So on Friday, I had to pay a visit to the doctor. I’m trying to get FMLA at work. Not so much because I need it but I’ve been out of work before due to illness and written up. You can only miss so many days before there’s the possibility of being fired.
I was asked if I was doing anything fun with my day off and I said “I’m going to the doctor to get poked and yelled at, not my idea of a fun time.” Also, while I didn’t realize it, I was suffering from depression. Every year, like clockwork, my normal, regular depression starts pressing in more and goes from lower case to upper case Depression. Last year, I ended up screaming and crying at Kari and Kim about how they hated me and I was all alone and blah, blah, life sucks, blah, pity me, blah. Long story short (too late), Kim pointed out what time of year it was. I am not only bipolar but I have what a former therapist referred to as “milestone triggers.” So my birthday is a huge trigger for me. I’m sure I’ve written about my former “friend” that used to, every year on March 1st, say “Dana, your birthday is on March 11th and you’re going to be how old? What have you accomplished with your life?” Then I would sit there and try to defend myself and he would shoot down every response I made to prove that, once again, I was nothing. Obviously I know I am not nothing now but it was hard to realize it back then.
Anyway, this is the first time ever that I’ve been able to realize what was going on. I’ve got some major stress things going on right now (including the fact that I’m torn between loving and hating my job) and I caught myself on Friday morning thinking “What good am I? What purpose does my life serve? Have I accomplished anything?”
Whoa. What purpose does my life serve? Former “friend’s” specter (and I can never say that without the quotation marks, I even make air quotes when I mention him) was rearing his ugly head. He used to say that my purpose in life was to make people laugh. Which doesn’t sound so bad until you tie it in with what he meant – I wasn’t supposed to make people laugh with me, I was supposed to make them laugh at me because I was so ridiculous and fat and stupid and whatever thing he wanted to say to bring me down.
So, I talked to Deb, I brought up how I’ve been feeling lately, and we discussed treatment. We can’t up my meds because I’m at the highest FDA approved dosage of Effexor (or faux Effexor since I’m on the generic version of it). But since I’ve realized what’s happened and talked about it, I feel better. I feel almost euphoric. It’s important that I’ve figured out what was going on.
What was this about? Oh, yes, things I’m loving.
- Pinterest. I am so freaking addicted, it’s not even funny. The ideas, the thoughts, the crafts! I’ve found so many things that I’m going to try and, even better, am now looking at Anthropologie and Pottery Barn and instead of thinking, oh, I’ll never be able to afford that, am thinking “Hey, I bet I could make that.” Also, if you happen to have a couple extra thousands lying around, I’d really like this bike. It’s pretty.
- Reading. I’ve always loved to read and being able to go to the library is awesome. I also got a Kindle for Christmas and do you have any idea how many free books are out there? I may look into self-publishing someday. You know, if I ever finish a book. This year I resolved to actually keep track of what I read and have been faithful about using Good Reads to do so. Which reminds me, got to track Catherine McKenzie’s Arranged, finished it last night. I liked it.
- Getting (slowly) back into blogging. I’m going to try to post once or twice a
weekmonth. Let’s be honest here. I’m not good at the blogging thing.
- Recognizing that I was depressed. It’s weird to realize that I love that but I do.