Until today, I felt pretty good. Really good, actually. I can’t say that much has changed, but I think we’ve all felt more upbeat. Less stressed. And I was so thankful! But today? Today I felt that familiar pressure: nerves on edge, teeth on edge, stomach in a knot, smothering darkness reaching out for me….
And I don’t know why.
I think that might be the most frustrating thing. If I knew why, I could prepare. I could fight it. I’d be able to beat it, maybe. But when it blindsides me and I can’t for the life of me understand where it came from or why I feel the way I feel and I don’t know what I can do to make it better, how can I win? So I barked at the kids, probably sounded like a witch, accomplished next to nothing all day, and huddled in my “corner” trying to keep depression and anxiety from completely overtaking me.
Tonight, I took my “emergency pill”. That’s what the psychiatrist called it. I didn’t even bother with half a pill–I downed the whole thing, hoping beyond hope that it would shake this monster off of my back before it totally defeated me.
Now I’m more relaxed and I’m very, very sleepy, but I still sense it. It’s like someone flipped the switch again and the only light left in the room is slowly fading.
Is it because I got bad news about another family member? Is it because I’ve been so disappointed in myself? (But that’s nothing new….) Is it because I feel stupid, forgotten, pushed away, unloved, unlovable, stupid, and like a total and complete failure–again? Is it because I’m premenstrual? (Please, no. That sounds so clichéd; I don’t care how true it might be.)
I might wake up and be fine in the morning. I hope and pray that I am, and not just for my sake. I don’t want the sadness and depression to affect my entire home again. But every time I feel this way I get scared to death, and I want to scream for help–but the few who would understand…why would they want to hear it again? Doesn’t it get really old? I know it does for me.
So I pray. Because God sees me, and He knows. And I pour my heart out here, as well as to Him, though words aren’t as easy to come by when I speak to Him.
So, God? Help me, please. Please. I don’t want to do this again. If it’s something I did, if it’s my fault, please, please show me so I can fix it and never do it again. Please.