Week 1, day 3

Today is not going well. It was going OK at first. I had a presentation at church and, once again, I felt like a deciever. It was for the older women at church-so I had to speak loud and I accidentally cursed-but then one asked how I was doing. "Fine," I said. I actually wanted to crawl in her lap and let her stroke my head while I cried. She looked like the type of woman, though, that would have told me chin up. Focus. Choose to be happy. So, it is a good thing I didn't do that. Plus, I might have crushed her. She was pretty delicate.

Then, I called my father in law back. He gave me a litany of things I need to do. It was very pressuring and he mentioned I need to go back to work. That might have been fine on the surface but he twisted the knife by mentioning my late husband, his son. "My son worked with a brain tumor for the insurance. You have to do what you have to do." I had no answer. I felt terribly guilty. I still do. I can't live up to that and I am paralyzed right now. Doing the presentation, pretending to be happy, took all my energy.

So, I caved. I looked for jobs and began to panic. I began to shake. I could feel the panic attack coming on and it hit hard. Very hard. And before I knew it, I was right back to where I was when I began taking the pills. Hopeless. A failure. Darkness. A blight upon the world and a blight in the existence of my family. I can't even support them right now because I can't support myself. What type of person is so selfish? So mean? So worthless? Why me, Abby Morehouse.

I called two people. No answer. I am trying not to emote on the boyfriend but I was desperate. I also called my mother. She told me to go to church to talk to the therapist and the boyfriend talked me off the ledge. I also had a good friend yahoo messaging me which helped. And now, I am OK. Not great but not ready to pick up any knives either.

I think that is why depression at this level is so insidious. People are so uncomfortable about it. You have to be secretive about the whole thing and no one knows how to handle it. My father in law was trying to be helpful and caring. He is terrified I will leave his grandchildren orphans. He is angry with me and scared and he knows we are all hurting. He probably feels helpless. And, if he had known that his conversation pushed me into a panic attack, he would feel horrible.

It's insidious because I never know what is going to set me off. One simple conversation and I am ready to search for some loratabs again. It is not a good sign and it scares the shit out of me. Will I ever reach a median point in my emotions?

I will say the mood swings are the worse. I feel like I have grip on things. I am going to recover then boom. I am covered in darkness. Shaking, crying, hopeless. Then, I am back to almost normal. I am not sure what normal is anymore. Then, depressed. Then, dealing. It is like a fucking yo-yo and I am exhausted from it.

I have therapy tomorrow. It is a good thing. I really, really need an outlet.