Eeeep

Getting down to the wire.  So much growth just to be thrown away at the last minute?  We'll see.

Losing Hope

I've been on an interesting kick lately.  I've been away from my job for several weeks now, on doctor's orders (short-term disability).  I am scrambling to find new work while at the same time continue to attend therapy sessions, doctors' appointments, continue with my mental homework (via Feeling Good), read the Bible, pray, etc.

Some interesting things have happened in the past few weeks.  My wife is pregnant with our third love-child, and I'm really curious as to how God is going to play this one out in terms of me providing money, time and effort to my expanding family.  My wife is going to need more help and I promised to do everything in my power to provide as much as I can.

Regarding finding a new job or career; I can definitely say that if it sounds too good to be true, then the opportunity probably is.  I have had several contacts thus far, but nothing has been formerly offered except for two positions with a company that I once worked for and vowed never to return to again.  Although it may seem like I'm being a whiny bitch about where I work for, there are only two places where I will never return to.  I'm trying to remain faithful to the notion that God will provide what I need and in the place I need to be.

I have turned my sense of loneliness inward.  Nobody will ever be able to provide what I need for me to get better other than myself and God.  True, others can encourage me and listen to me, but I'm not counting on that.  My therapist can meet with me, but that's only because I pay her. Granted, she is still an expert in these matters, but I know I can't count on her to fix everything.  These feelings have granted me new strength.  It's bitter-sweet, because I was hoping for something different, but it is still rewarding in the sense that I know I will be able to make it and pull through.

frustration

This is annoying.  Decent day at work.  Decent therapy session.  Frustrating time with my friends and family, and now I'm still all worked-up, stressed, and a little anxious.  Balls.

Terrified

Panic attacks cause one to harbor bad feelings about one's job.  Especially when the stress that causes those attacks are the direct result of the job itself.  I've got to get out of teaching in districts that are so incredibly...  well, in-need of reform.  Maybe I'll go back into the lab, if anyone would have me.  I'd love a government job.  In those things, I pursue.

My wife is pregnant with our third love-child.  She (and my mother in-law) say that because God has given us this gift, He will also give us a way to provide for him/her.  Pray that I find God's plan.  Because I trust that He won't leave me to hang out and fail my family.  Pray that I develop the self-confidence to succeed in whatever job He gives me.  Pray that I develop the faith to trust in this future.  As stated before, this next year is going to ber precarious.  Bankruptcy, career change, pregnancy.  Yikes.  It's enough to drive one sick...  oh, wait...  you know, cause massive weight loss, a closing esophagus, anxiety, panic-attacks, deeper depression...  I'm not supposed to be ruminating.

It's possible that the Sam-E supplement that I've been taking MAY be causing my extra anxiety and panic attacks.  Time to stop taking that pill and see what happens, I guess.

Can't even begin...

Massive panic attack this morning.  No work.  Lost money.  Blah.

My therapist and I got to dive into my history surrounding my career tonight.  It's interesting to see my choices from another's perspective.  I gave up my dream career for the dream family.  Although I'd never trade back, sometimes the thought of going to work to do what I've always wanted seems like a great dream.  And the loss of that dream hurts.  Again, I'd make the same choices again, but that doesn't mean I can't be sad that I lost something so special to me.  At least it's revealed to me that maybe what I'm doing isn't right for me.  Either the environment isn't right, or the pay isn't.  This year, it's been both.

I did some major emotional backsliding over the past 24 hours.  I can't seem to shake 30+ years of training.  I know it's difficult enought just to recognize that and I should probably pat myself on the back for that but it's going to take a lot of work to get out of this rut.  Sometimes I think of all of the people in the world with no food, home, or family, and then I feel completely ashamed that I'm so miserable with those three blessings.  Does that mean I shouldn't complain?  Is it so bad to want a job that doesn't make me physically and mentally sick?  I don't know.

Damn

So I heard within the past few days that two of the jobs I was pursuing declined to even interview me.  At least the e-mail from EMU was nice.  It said something to the effect of "although we see you have talent and experience, we're looking for somebody else."  Awwww.  It's always nice to hear that the paper/resume version of yourself reflects something positive.  And of course it means more to me, in so much that I have been trained to derive my sense of self-worth through the eyes of others.  Anyhow, the second rejection came today, and it's actually the second rejection from the same place.  I applied for two different jobs at a prestigious local private school, and was turned down for each other because I don't have a degree in Math.  That's right, although I essentially minored in Math at UM (they didn't have minors until after I graduated), AND passed the subject's state test for teaching in that field, AND have shown myself more than capable of teaching it for years on end...  because I don't have the right piece of paper, I was "passed over."  What really frustrates me is the fact that they didn't even interview me.  For all they know, I could out-teach any number of their math teachers, but because those took a few extra courses that I didn't (and I do mean a few, and the courses are not applicable to high school or middle school), they get considered and I don't.  Piss on them.

Then there's my current job.  Look, people, it's Hell.  I can't begin to tell you how tired I am of working in such sub-par environments.  But at least I'm employed at the moment, right?  Well, that's another curve ball, because my certification expires in July, and so my current job can lose me then.  I have completed the neccessary requirements to renew my certification through a Master's Degree, but yet my university and place of business has dediced to take >3 months to respond to my requests.  So now I don't even know if I'll be able to teach next year in a public school.  What REALLY pisses me off about this is that if I were to teach one more year in a low SES district, the federal government would repay $17,500 of my student loans.  The requirement is working in such a district for five consecutive years.  So I could be one year short.  What REALLY stains my underwear is the fact that I've been teaching in such districts/schools for eight years, but because my original schools did not fill out the correct paperwork, they were left off of the list of eligible schools.  Can you feel the rage?

Thank God for (Himself) my wife, who talked me down from my downward spiral (or is that "talked me up?").  Although I'm still really concerned (ok, worried) about the next 4-5 months of my life, I am feeling slightly better about things.

55%

OK, so today was easily a 55% day.  Or as my wife tells me, that it like most "normal" people's 65-75%.  Pretty kick-ass.

Work was lonely at first, annoying second (no copy paper until after 8 am), and then unproductive third as many of my students decided to continue their game-plan from last card marking and sleep through the lesson and classwork time.  Sure, the results from last card marking were many failing students, but don't tell them to expect a different outcome with the same behavior.

Had a last-minute staff meeting.  It was productive, but I wish I had know earlier about it.  You see, on Monday afternoons/nights, I meet with my mentor from Church, Greg.  This guy knows his message, the path, and he knows how to steer me in a good next-step directon.  When I got home I expected to see my mother-in-law in the library with my wife for Bible Study, but she couldn't make it over tonight.

Only 28 more days of school until final exams!  Woo-hoo!  I can't wait for this school year to be over.  It's been a ride to say the least.

See Ya'

Today was full of reflection.  Thanks to me, a young man may be off on his way to juvy, and another teenager's mother believes her youngin' is a perpetual victim...  when in fact she's a major bully, immature, obnoxious, and rude.  Her mom called to bitch me out, and I wouldn't let her.  I mean, she honestly attempted to talk to me just to shove her opinions down my throat.  At no time did she attempt to gather information or even get remotely close to listening to what I had to say.  I hate when people do that.  If all she wanted to do was to yell, couldn't she have just yelled at a wall?  I mean, it would have been just as assinine, and it wouldn't have wasted my time.

I got to have a decent talk today this afternoon/evening.  I got to spill about my "week of hell," which was until now not covered.  I really think that the aforementioned week kick-started the downward spiral.  I mean, I'm sure the environmental factors (the week) were a major factor, but also to consider were the hormonal factors (I was 16...ish) and the fact that at that period in most people's lives, they naturally derive their sense of self via others...  which is my major problem to begin with.  We also began talking about whether or not I feel misunderstood....  oh yeah, pretty much my whole life.  My mother always told me that I had the type of personality that would either make people really like me or really hate me.  Pretty true.  We also talked about how I used to be an extrovert, and how I wore my emotions on my sleeve.  Now Janet says that I have a po-po-po-poker face, po-po-poker face.  I wonder how that comes across to others, especially at work?  I mean, I can honestly feel that what she said is true, but I never really thought about it until she pointed it out recently.  I guess I just slowly transitioned from one stage to another, and missed all of the steps in-between.

So much more to say, but it's late and time for bed.

Physical pain... subsiding.

I ate today.  Ate a normal amount of food.  Yay.  A bowl and a half of cereal with dairy milk, a blueberry fruit & grain bar, an egg-salad sandwhich, a Burger Kind double stacker with fries and Coke.

I still feel totally disconnected from reality and from relationships.  I need to get that connection back, because I know that if I don't my mood will begin to decline el rapido.  The worst that my emotional connection with my wife is hanging by a thread.  It just seems that whenever there is a time for me to open up and discuss things, somebody or something interrupts us.  It's obnoxious and disheartening.  We've begun to talk about it and repair the problem, but I really wish we weren't in this predicament.  My wife is my number one go-to person to lean on, and my best friend.  My friend who has recently proven to be really good at talking and listening to me just had a baby today, so even she is temporarily out of the picture while she focuses on her newly-expanded family and recovery.

I'm starting a new book soon: The 10 Best-Ever Anxiety Management Techniques by Margaret Wehrenberg, and I'm hoping that it will prove to be as enlightening about my anxiety as Feeling Good was about my depression.

I don't want to go back to work tomorrow.  At least there are only two days left this week, and then we're down to about seven weeks to go before the end of the school year.  My grade's secretary asked if I was going to be back next year, and I simply responded that I will see what other offers are out there first.  I would really like to get a new position, but it would have to come with full health benefits for my family.  Then again, if I stick it out to next year, my salary will go up at least 5 if not 10k.  That will help pay for a lot of students loans after my bankruptcy clears.  But I really did hate teaching in this position this past year.  Our school is so incredibly top-heavy, and the left hand has no idea what the right hand is doing.

Speaking of work, I'm bummed that the article in the Oakland Press never got released.  I was really looking forward to reading that and feeling a bit of satisfaction and vindication.  Maybe it will get published soon anyhow.  It's not my call anyhow.

No time to suffer or heal

My therapist returned this week, and reflecting back to last week, I've been doing...  interesting.  I have been doing better in some ways, and worse in others.  Ironically, my emotions and spirit have been improving, but my physical health has been declining...  or at least I've hit a frustrating wall.

Let me paint a picture with exampes: I dropped taking my sleeping pill for the past two days and took melatonin instead.  Big mistake.  For both of those nights I probably woke up a minimum of eight times.  But to poke the bruise even more, I woke up STARVING...  as in I haven't eaten in days starving.  So after the first night I got a little smarter and posted a Cliff bar next to my bed in case of a repeat.  But the moment I'd pop even the smallest morsol in my mouth, I felt...  well, really fucked up.  My stomach would immediately reject the food, and I'd feel like I was going to barf all over the place.  So I'd try to go back to sleep, but would wake up as little as twenty minutes later.  On a personal note, the stench of my armpits was also waking me up.  I ran out of soap and have been using a less-potent soap for the past few days.  Nasty.  So anyhow, I've been eating somewhere between 500 and 800 calories per day or the past several weeks, if not months.  Note: I just burp-chucked.  I've lost 35 pounds, and can't seem to describe how it feels to eat.  I feel a slight feeling of satisfaction as I'm finally shoving a few calories down my throat.  But at the same time, having food in my stomach actually HURTS.  It's almost like my stomach doesn't know how to accept and hold food anymore.  Add bad gas pain on to the list, and the fact that I still am pooping 2-4 times a day, and I can't logically figure that last bit out.

I have a lot of big things coming up in the next few months.  I'd like to find a new job, I'd like to finish the bankruptcy process, and I'd like to start saving some money again instead of depleting every last bit of savings that we have.  I really hope everything works out for the best.

I've had zero time to decompress after work.  Although I got to talk to my mentor from church all last night, it didnt feel like I was decompressing from my uber-stressful day.  Then when I finally got home, my wife was busy for another hour or so.  By the time she was closing her eyes to sleep, I hadn't even completed describing the shitty 45-50 minutes that I had at work, much less the rest of the day, even LESS listened to my wife about her day.  Zero time to decompress.  Even my therapy didn't feel like I was able to exhaust my frustrations fully.  Maybe I SHOULD write that book.

Let me see that thong

That title has nothing to do with my feelings or anything, but my wife and I are currently watching Glee and I was (embarrassingly enough to type) just witness to some white nerd (and that's coming from me) rap "The Thong Song."  LOL.

Things have been up, down, and all around.  I had a short work week, and got to chill today at home.  Hooray.  This past week was also rough due to the fact that my therapist was out of town.  I'm also running low on Xanax.  At least this morning I woke up at 6:15 in mid-panic attack as opposed to the normal 3:30.  Is that good?  Progress?  I don't know.

Tonight I went to church for Good Friday.  It was moving, but not in the way that I expected.  Once again, I was reminded that it's not about me or my plan, but God's.

Progress, Regress

Roller-freaking-coaster of a weekend.

First, let me state some good news.  According to the Depression Inventory found in Feeling Good, I rated at a 78--which is Extreme Depression--on 3/23.  Then, on 4/4, I rated a 60, which is Severe Depression (a lower number is better).  Finally, on 4/16, I rated 53, which is only three points away from Moderate Depression.  So, overall, progress has been made.

I had the BEST morning/early afternoon Saturday.  I spent the morning watching my two daughters play at my church's Easter Egg Hunt.  About three or four hours of playgrounds, underdogs, egg-hunts, cotton candy, popcorn, face-painting, and temporary tattooing.  I was probably operating at around a high 60-almost 70% in terms of satisfaction.  Hooray.  Then, I found at that the dream (or was it) job opening was filled.  Talk about disappointment.  CRASH.  I was SO set on getting this job.  I felt like all of God's signs were there.  I randomly surfed to the school's employment page one day, found the one job I've always dreamed of was open for next year, and then discovered that I knew two people who already worked there...  and THEN I discovered that I knew the department chair/interviewer's daughter.  Talk about signs.  So when the bad news came, my whole world of hope and happiness and faith (temporarily that last one) came crashing about my feet.  I felt cold, numb, and defeated...  but the worst was yet to come...

Hours later, my wife loses it.  I mean, I haven't seen her lose her patience like this in years.  You see, she's Irish/Scottish, and a certified angel.  So when she loses it, she LOSES it.  In this loss of patience, she informed me that she just can't take it anymore and just wants ONE day of a happy husband.  Or something to that affect (she has a knack for "remembering exactly what happened/was said").  But that's not what I heard.  What I heard was "I can't handle you and your burdensome depression anymore."  My worst nightmares confirmed, come-true, and still ringing in my ears.  I hurt.  I felt angry, disappointed, betrayed, and destroyed.  It's going to take a long time to sort out what she really meant (she clarified later that what I "heard" was not what she meant, and that she was really angry that I had such a good day but was away from her while I was happy...  that she didn't get the chance to ever see me happy one of the few times that I actually felt that way.  My depression is like her depression, and she didn't get to see the rare moment of sunshine.  That must have been really frustrating and disappointing for her.  Sorting the emotions and thoughts out is going to take some time, much less forgiveness...  that's a family (nature AND nurture) trait that I contain.  I'm a mega-grudge holder/score-counter.  It's not healthy, and I've been working on that for years.

Today I decided to volunteer more.  I signed up to fill food bags for the needy in a few weekends.  I'm also looking into going on a mission trip to Haiti, Africa, or India.  My hope is to go this summer if/when I'm off from summer school (hoping that I get a summer school job).  But if not, I'll try to go this Fall.  I asked God today if this was what HE wanted me to do, and I immediately heard "yes."

Speaking of my job, I am STILL waiting for a confirmation e-mail to get sent from my supervisor in order to get the final approval for my Master's Degree.  This will renew/upgrade my certificate and enable me to continue working in my current profession.  But the confirmation e-mail has been requested in December, and I STILL haven't received it.  Meanwhilem, my certification expires this July, and I recently received a certified letter from my current employer informing me that I will not be working for them next year if my certification has expired.  Is this God's sign that I shouldn't work for them on in my current profession anymore?  I have yet to sort/figure that out.

I'm freaking out about my finances.  I finally logged in to my student loans webpage and discovered that I had not only double the principal that I initially throught (I guess my Master's Program was more expensive than I initially thought), but that my payment was already over a month late.  Shit.  Add this to my current process of filing for bankruptcy, and I'm up shit's creek without a paddle.  Bankruptcy, from what I understand, does not wipe away student loans.  Damn it.  At the current time, I don't even know if I can finish paying my bankruptcy lawyer before I file.  And I keep getting phone calls from "unavailable" all throughout the day/week.  So nerve-wracking.

I'm starting to believe that my parents' description of the American Dream was a complete lie.  I was raised that you had to be the best, get the best education, and work hard, and money and opportunities will come.  What bullshit.  It's really who you know, and I haven't been good with "knowing" people in years, due to my depression.  Shit, I know people who have one fifth the education that I have and make like triple what I make.  For example, a first-year janitor in NYC makes at least 50k!  That really pissed me off.

It's hard to not feel screwed at the moment.

Short blog is short

Decent two days of work so far.  Great session with my therapist.  I think we've finally decided to tackle the root of my problem: the feeling that life can not be filled with joy and/or happiness, and at the very least, that my life can't/shouldn't.  We're going to divulge deep into my past and figure out just what caused me to believe this.  More information coming in the near-future.

The troughs

Only 10 more weeks of this hellacious job and I can kiss it goodbye.  I think I have essentially made it impossible for me to work there next year on account of my certification's expiration.  I am trying to think of this as a blessing in disguise.  Meanwhile, the job hunt for virtually ANYTHING else continues.  I have sent out numerious e-mails, resumes, cover letter, and phone calls, but so far...  nada.

I came home today to find my family gone at a Girl Scout's meeting.  Bummer.  I'm trying to convince myself that alone =/= loneliness, but that's not going too well at the moment.

My therapist is out on vacation next week, which is going to put things in a very stressful position, to say the least.  Therapy and church are a few of the things that I actually look forward to.  Speaking of therapy, my therapist was considering hospitalizing me this past week.  Then my psychiatrist came in and changed the plan.  My increased dosage of Prozac has yet to kick in, and so I've been experiencing anxiety attacks as a result.  So now I am supposed to take 1 mg (dang that's alot) of Xanax, three times a day.  To say the least, it's taking care of much of the anxiety, but at the same time, it's knocking me out.  I fell asleep in a friend's spare room yesterday while my wife helped her clean (our friend is pregnant and ready to burst, so my wife decided to lend a helping hand).

I haven't done my homework from the book Feeling Good in nearly a week, and I'm sure that's taking a toll on me.  The problem is, I feel that I have so much going on right now that I can't set aside even the ten to fifteen minutes that it takes to cognitively sort through my problems and false assumptions.  I'm also "supposed to" (there's a cognitive distortion again) meditate every day, read the bible, and journal my thoughts.  Well, at least I haven't brought work home with me in weeks...  oh wait, I did just that today.  Shit.

In addition, I'm dealing with filing for bankruptcy (yet another long blog that I'm sure will come in the near-future), freaking out about the local government's cuts to education (I have loved ones who are educators), and generally trying to hold it together.  So far, I'm not doing well today.  In fact, I don't think I've hit above a 30% since my last date with my wife.  I'm so tired of this.  I just wish I could go to sleep and wake up with all of my major problems gone.  I got a tast of this last Friday when I had a gasto-doctor do an upper scope of my esophagus, stomach, and duodenum.  He said that there is no sign of ulcers (which was a hypothesis for my constant vomiting every morning), but that he could definitely see some erosion.  Anyhow, the point is that when they gave me to IV drip to knock me out, I experienced the most restful, happy sleep of my life.  I was only out for about 20-30 minutes, but I awoke without a care in the world.  Pure bliss.  That didn't help me deal with keeping away any self-harming thoughts, but don't worry, I still don't want to do such a thing.  I'd be lying if I didn't say that many days I wish that I was dead so that I wouldn't have to suffer anymore, but then I think of my family...  my wife and girls don't deserve that.

My therapist says that I'm doing really well; that I'm severely depressed and anxious, and that my current job is not exactly lending itself to helping me.  I don't know if I'm mentioned this before, but she told me to stop trying to "figure work out."  She says that what happens there is so asinine, backwards, and illogical, that I will never EVER figure out where the next slight or attack will come from.

Why can't I have salvation?  Why can't I have at least 2 days a week where my satisfaction/mood breaches 50%?  Or how about one?  I can't tell you how tired I am of dealing with this.  God help me.

Some crests, some troughs today

So today was an interesting day.  I awoke around 5:30 in full-on panic attack.  Got my ass to the bathroom, popped a Xanax, and returned to bed.  Too late.  I was up on and off until around 7:30.  Sigh

Adding to my normal level of depression to today was the rain.  We have few seasons in the state that I live: winter, grey, and construction.  Some may argue that the first two are really the same.  Whatever.  Anyhow, YEARS ago I thought my depression was really just Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD, har har), which is basically a way of saying "winter-blues-itis" (you see, if you add "itis" to the end of anything, it automatically makes it officially medical).  I THINK I was first clued in to the misdiagnosis sometime mid-summer and I was still miserable.  But still to this day, January through March is the worst for my depression symptoms...  So it's raining, my gut is in knots, and I hobble downstairs to head out to an early meeting with the campus director of my family's church.

The meeting went well.  Turns out, we have very similar backgrounds, except he's been rich...  like, FILTHY rich.  President/CEO of three major multi-million dollar companies rich.  He says that it didn't fulfill him and left him hollow.  Fair enough.  As mentioned up above (I'll wait), we have a lot in common: parents that taught us that carrers full of achievements will fulfil us and make us happy, depression, anxiety, physical abuse, etc.  He lets me know that I can call him anytime if I need, and hooks me up with a guy from our church to disciple me.  Cool.  More support is always great.  Bad news is that the guy is out for the week and thus currently unavailable.  Camel poo.

Note: I have found that surrounding myself with people I care about and schedule something to look forward to every other day, I can ward off some of the symptoms of my depression. 

Holy crap, it's almost 9pm already.  So much to say and so little time to write.

Today was three steps from call-the-suicide-hotline.  Yeah, I hit that low.  Thank God for my family, without whom I doubt I could make it through this war.  But I was smart: I kept the hotline in-mind (reaching out is a sign of strength, people), talked to my church director, talked to my wife, talked to my mother-in-law, and am currently chatting with some friends.  I filled my day with positive social events which kept some of the horrible thoughts at bay.  I went on a date with my AMAZING wife, which consisted of a dinner at a local Red Lobster (which my wife makes fun of me for growing up believing Red Lobster was a "fancy" restuarant due to their prices) followed by a visit to a local Christian bookstore.  There I found myself a new Bible (NIV for those who care) and a few books about conquering life's storms.  Good stuff.  Felt in the low 60s (in terms of happiness).  These past few days were the only times I've felt above 50% (median) in a LOOOOONG time.  Also to note: my in-laws have told me that they've seen the most improvement in me in the past year, and even more so in the past three months.  I need to hear shit like this to keep my motivation going.  What about you?

I spoke with my mom on the phone today to catch up, and to give her the heads up that I am in the midst of declaring bankruptcy.  Technically, I owe her money from years back, and have to legally disclose this debt to my lawyers.  Man, that was a tough thing to get out.  How do you tell your mother that you aren't going to pay her back?  It seems like a smaller deal when I write it, but it felt like a major hurdle in the moment.  Speaking of bankruptcy, I am feeling major anxiety from this process.  My bank is harrassing me about missed payments, and have taken to call me all hours of the night AND ON WEEKENDS!  I received a text from them today to contact them by 9pm TONIGHT, or else!  A text... on my fucking phone.  For some reason, I haven't found the inner strength to give them my lawyer's phone number.  Why, I don't know.  Maybe because then it will feel "real."  In the meantime, my wife and I have to change banks so that they don't just remove the funds themselves.  Legal?  It's a grey area.  Moral?  Hell no.  But then again, we are talking about a bank that paid $0 in federal taxes this year while their executives made off with millions in bonuses... AFTER being bailed-out by the taxpayers.  Fuckers.  Anyhow, my debt is yet ANOTHER story that will eventually come to light if I decide to continue this blog.

Where the hell did that last paragraph go?  Tan-gent.

Anyway, a brief note about talking to my mom: she tells me that I should talk to my brothers soon, although she understands why I don't call the "successful" one (it might make me feel more depressed).  She also reminds me twice that I have (in her eyes) given up my dream career to be with my family.  Way to reinforce those demons, mom.  I try to have compassion for her, as she's been through a LOT in her life.  But what frustrates me the worst is that EVERYONE around her can tell she's been clinically depressed for decades.  And yet she seeks no treatment.  We call this the "martyr" syndrome.  You see, in my mom's religion, suffering is considered to be awesome...  as in, you score more God points if you suffer and just deal with it sans complaining or treatment.  That is also probably a product of the age that my mom grew up in: mental illness was taboo and hardly understood.  Add in all the other shit she's been through, and it's hard to blame her.  But that doesn't make talking to her (sometimes) any easier.  I need to remember to prepare for conversations with her so that I'm ready for this.  Then again, that's EXACTLY what my therapist is telling me not to do.  Damned if I do, damned if I don't.

Have I mentioned just how negative, insane, unprofessional, and generally fucking insane the people that I work with/for are?  Yeah, no names or locations will be revealed because of a near-certaintly of retaliation.  That being said, this is the kind of place that will persecute you for the most innane things, so I wouldn't be surprised if I get fired anyway.  That might be a blessing.  I've recently told my wife that I'd rather manage a McDonald's than continue to work where I'm at.  Then again, I also feel guilty for saying that: the economy is shitty, and at least I have a job that is paying our bills (well, most of them...  see above...  while you scroll, I'm going to get a snickers).

If there's one thing you should take away from this, it's the following: my day started horribly, it got better at a meeting, sank low throughout the middle of the day (hotline low), and then rose again in the evening.  Days can change, people.  Bad days can get better.  Sure, the converse is also true, but a shitty day or moment can be turned around... eventually.  The hard part is staying in the fight.  It's like being in the ring with a professional boxer, but you don't h ave to win.  Just survive.  That's the ticket. I.  I will survive.  No matter how long I have loved blah blah blah, disco...

Anxiety: part 1 of many

Anxiety is the operating word for this day...  week...  lifetime?  No, probably not that far.  I received major issues from my parents (both genetically and via our environment) Note: I don't blame either of them for this, because I truly don't believe that they grew up in a time and place where depression and anxiety were very well understood...  much less when/where medications for those mental issues were available.  My dad is a major worrier.  I mean, major.  The man lost a significant amount of weight during his last year of employment due to the fact that he was worried about losing his job.  How horribly ironic.  Life father, like son.  To note, I have currently lost 25 pounds in the past 6 months.  This coincides with the beginning of my current job.  I really don't think this is a coincidence.

So anyway, this past Monday was the first day that I have thrown up due to anxiety when I was NOT at work.  You see, since I started my current job, I probably haven't gone 24 hours without feeling nautious...  neauseated...   whatever the correct word is.  I throw up at least 2-3 times a week in the mornings, and so far, once at work.

My doctor has recently perscribed a low dose of Xanax to help me get through the brief moments where I am experiencing panic attacks.  I have so far popped one of these today.  Just so we're all on the same page here.  I take two pills before bed (per doc's orders) to help me calm down enough to sleep.  Unfortunately, the half-life for this drug is pretty short, so halfway through each night my mind is again racing with anxious thoughts (mostly about work, finaces, and my career).  I actually wake up anxious as a result, and usually in mid-stream of thought.  So today, I called my doctor and asked if there was something different that I could do/take.  Ironically, she called me back while I was in her office's waiting room, in preperation for an appointment with my therapist.  I told her my current location, and she was able to pull me aside and prescribe a sleep aid.  Ambien, welcome to my evening routine.

Anyhow, my therapy went pretty well.  I brought in my notes from reading the book Feeling Good and shared my quiz results/notes/observations/noted quotes with her.  Most of the things that she had to say about my insight was positive, although she cautioned that I don't do one of exercises.  That exercise...  to combat perfectionism (my strange belief that all people should be without major flaws) I followed the book's advice and LOWERED my expectations for the day.  My/the book's logic was that if I make it easier to achieve my goals, I will see that it is satisfying to achieve them.  This kind of goes against everything that I believe in my professional life, but that's another story for another time.  Anyhow, my therapist brought up the fact that I routinely prepare for the worst like donning a full suit of armor every morning in case of major negative occurences happening.  So, she proposed that expecting a "bad day" (even through the process of slightly lowering my expectations) is probably similar to this mental morning routine...  and this is a routine that I need to rid myself of, because it's causing me to ignore and/or dismiss the postive things that happen every day, and brace for the worst.  Consequently, I'm constantly all riled up inside.  This is not only a major source of my anxiety, but it's also probably contributing to my depression in so much that I am mentally and emotionally exhausted from this defense and thus have little energy to devote to combating my negative and self-destructive thoughts.  So my current thought-process is that I'll just not expect ANYTHING from my day, and take it as it comes.

Introduction

Depression hurts.  Who does it hurt?  Me.
I start this blog for several reasons. 

1. I need an outlet; something with which to purge all of my negative thoughts via lunatic ravings.
2. I noticed that there are virtually zero good sites where you can get an insight into depression and/or anxiety without going through Wikipedia or WebMD.  Added note: the one thread in the depression forums on WebMD is short and minimal, with so many people viewing and so few contributing even a brief moment of empathy. 
3. There are so few places where a person can witness somebody who has depression and/or anxiety go through life changes...  growing, improving, because less depressed...  whatever.  After reading the few threads/posts out there regarding depression, I have also deteremined that so many out there are suffeing worse than I am.  Maybe those people--if and when they read this-- will find some bit of hope here.  So there.

So here's my story:  I'm a young (?) father of two who has struggled with depression (and more recently, anxiety) for the past...  oh...  say about seventeen years.  Now, according to several reference sites out there, most people who get depressed experience for months...  maybe a few years.  I'm one of those select few who have fought it since my mid-teens.  This does not make my suffering greater (or lesser) than anybody else who is depressed, but it serves as a reference-point for my life.

Now, I'm sure that if I decide to continue this blog, I will slowly reveal the various aspects of my past, but for now, here's the short version:
I loved life.  I mean, I was elated with life.  Maybe that's seeing my past through rose-colored glasses, but that's what I remember.  I had a great family, two brothers who I generally got along with, a moderate number of friends...  my family grew up in the upper-middle class suburbs of a major metropolitan area.  Later on in life I truly understood just how much my family provided for me.  Maybe I'll write about that revealing trip in Mexico in the future.  Anyhow, I remember life being what I truly thought and still think is "normal."  I've been told that there is no "normal," but that's another topic for another day.  I had bad days, I had great days, and I had every kind of day in between.  That's been my central problem from my teenage years onward.

Since mid-high school, things are almost like that scene from Office Space.  You know, this one:



I've always had a soft spot for hyperbole. 

That aside, this is the closest thing that I have ever encountered that describes how I feel.  Only, instead of "since I started work" I would have to substitute "since mid-high school."

So, like I've said, I've been there and done that in terms of being depressed.  I've been through two psychiatrists, two religions, two wives, four different therapists, many different self-help books, and a multitude of of anti-depressents, doses, nutritional supplements, etc. 

Feeling Good by David Burns, M.D. is a book that I am currently reading.  It's helping me understand that a large chunk of my depression is caused by self-defeating thoughts--known in the book as "cognitive distortions"--which create negative emotions.  I have started two notebooks since I began reading this book: one for taking notes, and another in which I take quizzes, do daily exercises, etc.  Anyhow, coming up (in this blog and in many future blogs, I am sure) are some tidbits of knowledge that I have encountered while reading this book.  For example:

There are four D's of Depression: defeated, defective, deserted, and deprived.

I'm sure that other sufferers of depression can read that list and identify with at least one of those D's.  As Will Smith once said, "just nod your head."  I personally ID with all four of them at this particular time in my life.

Some of the major causes of depression.  I currently believe that my depression's causes are biology, genetics, trauma and grief, and changes and stressful events.


Some more information that I have gleaned from this book:

1. When I began reading this book on 3/23, I took a depression index and got a 79.  The description of this number is EXTREME DEPRESSION (all caps for super-mega emphasis!).  Today I re-took this index and got a 60 which is described by SEVERE DEPRESSION.  This shows that I've improved.  At this point in time I take a momentary pause to pat myself on the back for this improvement.  This book also suggests that I do this often at first, even if it feels mechnical...  it definitely feels mechanical.
2. If one is ready, one can begin to "talk back" to the negative thoughts that automatically occur in my head.  In so doing, I am responding rationally to my automatic irrational thoughts.  Note: this is a form of cognitive therapy, in which you use mental techniques to control your concscious thoughts.
3. According to page 87, "depression is the most agonizing form of human suffering."  Now personally, I believe that torture is probably more agonizing.  This could stem from the facts that I have recently begun thinking of the crucifixtion of Jesus and I have also watched the movie "Braveheart."  Having your entrails removed while you are still alive?  Now THAT'S agonizing.  Note: I'm not saying that depression is not agonizing or full of suffering by any means.  God knows I have "always" felt and still feel otherwise.
4. My irritability quotient (a measure of how quickly I become irritated) is average.  I guess I'm not a rage-aholic.
5. I took the dysfunctional attitude scale inventory which measures your general attitude towards approval, love, achievement, perfectionism, entitlement, omnipotence, and autonomy.  Scores range from negative ten through positive ten.  Positive scores translate to a healthy belief in that particular category, while a negative score translates to an unhealthy belief.  I got the following: Approval -8, Love -3, Achievement -7, Perfectionism -2, Entitlement -1, Omnipotence -5, and Autonomy -7.  Yikes.  That's fucked up.
6. I have done a cost-benefit analysis of continuing to think the way I do.  Logically, I can see why my automatic thoughts are so destructive.  This does not make ridding myself of these thoughts any easier whatsoever.