Current mood : very not good.
But I ain’t worried.
Had an appointment with Doctor Caswell, my diabetes/sleep apnea doc, earlier today.
And it wasn’t until I was sitting there, telling her all the ways in which I am a total failure as a patient, that all these repressed feelings of grief and fear and frustration and guilt surrounding my waning health and the part my apathy played in it hit me with tsunami force, shattering my mood.
I went there looking for her to put in a special authority request to get me that Freestyle Libre 2 glucometer that is the only one that has actually worked for me.
The month I was using that thing, my blood sugar was perfect. Getting the newer one now that there’s a chance that the government will pay for the sensors for it ($100 each, two a month) would make a radically huge impact on my life because I would finally be able to control my blood sugar in a way that I can handle.
She hadn’t heard that the government’s position re : the Libre had changed. So she was not sure my request would be approved.
But she Googled it and the government guidelines don’t mention which CGM (Continuous Glucose Monitor), otherwise known as “the new ones where you don’t have to poke your finger”, it will pay for.
So there’s at least a chance it will be approved. Finger crossed.
Back to my mental breakdown.
I think having to, as it were, confess to all these crimes against myself triggered a massive release of tension and fear that had built up in my mind regarding the state of my health and my own role in it.
Combined with all I wrote about apathy yesterday, I think this led to a real dam-burst of thawed out emotions at Doctor Caswell’s office.
And that is very, very much a good thing. In fact I’d like more of it, please and thank you. Whatever leads to real catharsis helps me enormously.
This glacier of frozen and suppressed emotion I am sitting on has to go. The more it melts, the more of myself I recover, and the more alive I ultimately feel.
Fuck being numb. I want to feel everything.
The more of my emotions I consciously experience, the better I feel. Every single bit of catharsis I have ever managed to wring out of my cold and broken soul had led directly to a permanent improvement in my mental health.
So you’re damn right I believe in catharsis. Like a dying man believes in his childhood religion, I believe.
It’s the only form of salvation I believe in. The only kind that has ever worked for me.
And if your organized religion enables this kind of emotional release, believe me when I say God bless you. Whatever God that is.
So no, I am not worried about myself, despite the fact that I feel pretty lousy right now. I know that this is only a passing symptom of my catharsis and that once I get enough sleep and hydration, I will feel a lot better.
And with that, it is time for a nap.
More after the break.
The new depression
Otherwise known as Depression Lite, Depression 2.0, or Depressed, But Okay With It.
Because the thing is, I have all the symptoms of being depressed. Low mood (waaah) . feeling irritable (grr), loss of motivation (whatever), low energy (zzzz), trouble concentrating (wha?), memory issues (grr?), and so on.
But I don’t really care. It doesn’t upset me to be this upset. It’s like the depression is bad weather and I am just patiently waiting for it to pass.
Because I know it will. This mood is just some mental garbage my brain is burning now that the emotion has been spent, and when it is all over I will feel a lot better.
Perhaps even a little better than I did before the storm began.
One can only hope.
This means I am no longer afraid of the Big Bad Wolf of depression. It’s all bark and no bite. It can come and throw all its usual bullshit at me and I will see through all the tricks and the lies and the corruption of reason and deny it any input into my sense of what is really going on, and just let the neurochemical bullshit wash over me without interference or concern.
Like, whatever. I am staying out of it. My mind can do what it needs to do to heal itself and I will watch with detached interest like I am watching a dull parade.
Oh look, more majorettes. In deeply age inappropriate uniforms. How nice.
The less I resist, the faster I will heal. I have been like that caterpillar who thinks turning into a butterfly will mean its death for far too long. It’s time for me to stop fighting myself and let myself become whatever it is I need to become.
I have so much magic and wonderment all bunched up inside me, just waiting for me ot stop clenching down so hard on it and just let it propel me towards the sky just like Jack’s famous beanstalk, and be okay with finding out where I’m doing when I get there.
Whatever. Life is an adventure. One you can’t write in advance. The truth is that no amount of forethought can completely eliminate surprised and shock from your life, nor would you want it to if you could because that would make life ever so dull.
Besides, feeling safe is overrated. Especially when you don’t even know what the hell in your moribund life you could possibly be working so hard to be safe from.
The danger is long gone. There’s no monster hunting for us, no enemy troops to hide from, no bullies to evade. It’s perfectly safe to come out of the woods now.
Time to leave our makeshift shelter, lay down our puny weapons, return to the world of everyday people, and go home and get some god damned rest.
I won’t lie, I am truly scared of that big bright confusing overstimulating world out there and I fully intend to freak the fuck out about it at first.
But that will pass. And then I will look around and realize nothing scary is actually happening and it’s actually a very nice world once you get used to it.
Time, at long last, for a new adventure.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.