So I have problems. And they are worse than I want to admit. I am still coming to terms with some of it and have not talked about much or it. What I have talked about I have only discussed with a handful of people. My doctor, my chosen family, a couple of close friends and, as of two days ago, my mother.
I knew I had some physical problems. These include: diabetes, gout, bad knees, carpal tunnel, ... And recently I found out that my brain is out of whack as well.
To be precise, I was diagnosed as suffering from depression. I don't mean that I was feeling a little down. I mean I am suffering from depression. I have a chemical imbalance that is causing depression which has gotten bad enough that it is truly making me suffer.
While talking to my doctor about this there was a list we went over. "If you answer yes to three out of the following ten items..."
I answered yes to nine out of ten.
One of the effects of all this is that I have lost my motivation. For pretty much everything. Even more so for things that I don't like doing. [Editor: Like writing this post or admitting how bad the depression has gotten.]
Of course these issues don't stop with depression. They also continue along to compulsive behaviour. Not major behaviours, but several of them. Mainly they take the form of "nervous habits". Ticks and twitches. Bouncing my leg while seated. Arm and hand movements.
Maybe not enough to notice unless you are looking for it. Or if you are there all the time, like I am. And the more I try to control it, the worse it gets. [Editor: Which reminds me, there will be a later post on Control.]
To top it off (for now) I have a "mood disorder". Which is just a polite way of saying that my emotions are screwed up, too.
Most of the time I am fine. Well, as fine as I can be with everything else I have already covered. But there are times when my emotions get... heightened. And when this happens I either end up sobbing or in a rage. Which way it goes depends on what is happening at the time. If something makes me angry, like drivers in and around Boston, the rage takes hold. Otherwise I'll be sobbing. Probably because even if their is nothing else right then, there is always the depression lurking around.
I just reread this entry and I have to say that, relatively speaking, I didn't really say much. And I kept what I did say relatively unemotional and restrained. But that was so that I could get through it.
I should say that I have been trying to keep from having this journal get too dark and depressed, but screw that. I am depressed and this is my journal. It is going to reflect me. That is just how it is. I will try to throw in some more fun stories from my past when I can, but you will get what you get. I am writing this as something I can enjoy doing and it is turning out to be a form of therapy for me.
Hope you understand.
Feel free to leave comments, I read all of them. Or send me email at journal(at)wyldwoods.net. which I have sent up specifically for this purpose.