Today is October 14th.
One month exactly since I hit crisis point.
It has been the longest month of my life.
To me, I feel like I have hardly made any overall progress. Today has felt very similar to those first few days. I have done nothing. Not wanted to speak. Not wanted anything to do with anybody. Not cared about anything. Flat. Empty. Frustrated. Tormented by my own emotions. Wanting to hide away. These bad days drag on and on.
Yet, clearly there has been progress in some ways. People were telling me how well I was doing a week or so ago; I was doing more and getting out more as well as seeming better in myself.
But I feel like I should be and want to be better than I am. I don’t know why; it is ONLY a month. Time I suppose is slow in part because all my days are fairly similar at the moment. I need the rest and lack of responsibility but time has become pretty meaningless.
Guilt adds to the feeling of wanting to hurry up and get better. I need to start looking after the children on my own again. I need to think about when I will go back to work. I need to be ‘useful’ again; not being so has an added negative impact on morale.
There is also the awful feeling of detachment and not being in control. I don’t like it. Who am I at the moment? I don’t feel like ‘me.’ My life is being controlled by ‘depression.’ I want to go back to normal. I want it to go away.
It’s taking forever; it’s been a long month.