a week's trip to the blue-violet territories

severe elevation | high elevation | moderate elevation | slight elevation | stable | slight depression | moderate depression | deep depression | severe depression || anx: 0, agit: 0


One week from posting the previous entry in which I supposed I might not be going into a depression, I can say right now that i really did sink into depression the past week. Luckily I've been able to stabilize today, but I was certainly a wreck yesterday. In the past week, I was unfortunate enough to receive a volley of one stressor after another, after which I was the site of an H-bomb drop, so blam, I got wiped out. No signs of life. I was buried into the blue-violet territories and felt like something inside me died. I went to sleep bawling and woke up howling; I refused to give the day a chance. I came up with a new suicide plan, and since I wasn't up to actually carrying it out, I proposed pretending to be dead instead. I was in a moderate-to-deep depression.

I had to resort to the heavy-duty coping techniques: I asked the Hubby to take a leave from work so he can stay home with me. I asked him to talk with me constantly. I asked for a massage. To cheer me up enought to get me out of bed (it was already noon and I was still in bed), he put bunny-friend Davey on my pillow. We kept the television on even if I totally disliked the programs, just so I won't entertain my thoughts.

As I sat alone, listless at the breakfast table in an otherwise empty room, I thought about how easy it is to be bitter when one is depressed. Even over things one wasn't upset about previously. Depression is such fertile soil for rumination and obsession and destructive thought patterns. Darn it.

And I 'd just like to say that it's next to impossible to be a good, consistent Christian while strugling with bipolarity. It's so frappin' frustrating. And what's extra disappointing is that other Christians aren't much help because they don't know much about it. But I'm not going there ...

Anyway, about my deadly ruminations, I gave myself two simple but profound words: Let Go. I took my cues from the Callie Torres character in the Grey 's Anatomy Season 4 rerun that I just recently caught on cable. Just freaking let go. i.e., Drop it - whatever it is. Try not to obssess about it. Cry about it as hard as necessary and then get over it. Easier said than done of course, but I have to start somewhere. Besides, i thought, I won't be depressed for long and when I snap out of it, whatever i was obssessing about probably won't even matter (At least, not until the next episode...)

Well, it seems to work. For now anyway. So far so good. And I don't think I've had any headaches today - and that's good, of course. I'm feeling a bit more energetic too. I think some people have been praying for me as well (Whoever you are, thanks guys). I'm hoping I won't sink back into the bues after today, but if ever I do, the Hubby and I will be making a battle plan.

I'll be keeping the yellow pills within easy reach of course.