Depression

My dear blog mentor has advised me to not talk about depression; that I should go for a walk, whistle. She's right, and my therapist agrees with her.


But the big black fog of depression has settled in, and I need to describe it - for myself. You can skip this one, if you'd rather.


I sleep too much. 12 to 14 hours a day. I am sad all the time. I am uncomfortable in company, except a very few close friends. Any job, no matter how small, seems overwhelming, and when I'm finished, I don't have that feeling of accomplishment, I just feel exhausted and glad only that it's over. I am eating badly, taking care of myself and the house minimally. I am skipping activities, meetings, events. The cheerful face I've put on the last few days or weeks has become too much of an effort. 


There's really nothing to attach this depression to, except the trauma of the past three years has both heightened and deadened my emotions. That's really where it came from, and I've been forging ahead, trying to cope. I think this current dip in the road is just that, a dip, and I will get better. That's not really hope, it's belief that this phase will change, as have all the other phases I've been through. 


It might be a medication issue, as well, and I will start to deal with that tomorrow with those that I trust in that arena.


These pages might become a journal of this depression. I understand if any readers do not want to follow me here. I am writing this to save my life.