Climbing out of the pit

Aug. 25

It's been a few weeks since my last post. I have now been to a new doctor twice, who has put me on a regimen of (very expensive!) hormones, thyroid, and antidepressants.  It took awhile, and took tweaking my medications, but I AM FEELING BETTER, thank you Jesus! I still don't think I'm 100% just yet. It may be a long haul until I am. I'm just starting menopause, and apparently in my case, this 'change of life' tends to wreak havoc in my system. And since menopause can last YEARS, it truly won't be over till the fat lady sings. I'm sure my meds will have to be tweaked numerous times over the years. Hey, it's only money, right?

Those who truly suffer with depression...my heart goes out to them. Compared to many, I know I have a mild case. "Melancholy" and all that. But just the few months I felt that way were absolutely wrenching. I can't imagine living with that feeling ALL THE TIME. I never wanted to commit suicide, but I can COMPLETELY UNDERSTAND how someone would think that way. It's not that you want to end your life, you just want the pain and obsessive thoughts and horrible feelings to just STOP. It's like being inside a fuzzy gray box. It's all encompassing; you can't see a way out, you can't get comfortable, you can't stop thinking about it. It's always there. It presses into your subconscious and wraps around your brain until it's all you can think of.  I couldn't think, focus, comprehend, or pay attention to anything for more than a few seconds; I slept all the time - my weekends were spent in bed with the shades drawn; every horrible negative thought about myself, my life: past, present, and future, constantly tumbled around inside my brain. I burst into tears at the drop of a hat. All my bad habits came out of the woodwork. Then my office life started to suffer, and that's when it got really scary, because as a singleton, I can't afford to not have an income!

But speaking of fat ladies, I have somehow managed to lose about 30 pounds.  Much of it was because while depressed, even eating wasn't pleasurable, so I just...didn't. Which is typically just the opposite of what happens when I get depressed: I usually stuff my face without thinking. I knew I had to eat something, so I tried to stick with juicing, something I'd been doing already for several months. I might not have wanted to eat anything, but drinking my food was easier. It's given me a bit of a kick start, and I want to keep going.  Already I seem to have hit a plateau, but adding exercise into my regimen isn't something I want to think about just yet. I know I need to do it, but I hate exercise with the passion of a thousand burning suns, so it may still be awhile till I actually commit. I really have no excuse; my apartment is mere steps from the exercise facilities. I DO actually have the time for it, but again, I just don't want to. Ironically, my lazy bone gets much more exercise than my willpower. 

This is another reason I want to move to London: everything is close by, within walking distance. Unlike Dallas, where you have to drive miles and miles just to get across town, in London, if you can't walk there, you can easily take a taxi, or the tube, or a bus. Dallas is trying to play catch up on public transport, but it will always be too little too late, IMO. And it will never be as extensive and all encompassing as what is already in London. I could actually walk to a few places where I currently live, but the traffic is so thick around here that it scares me to think about. Not to mention it's 100F outside. Not the kind of weather that inspires a nice brisk walk. Come on, Autumn.

However, moving to London may only exacerbate my depression, what with its cloudy, gloomy rainy weather 300 days of the year. Might have to think it through a bit more.