The past three days have been an absolute hell for me. Last night was probably the worst. Last night and this morning. My husband is out of town this week and for some reason, I fell into one of my spells, as I like to call them. That would be when I sit and do nothing but degrade myself, cry, and honestly wish that I could fall asleep and never wake up. Since I was nineteen, I have been medicated for a mood disorder and have an extreme history of manic depression in my family including one family member that is so bad he has to go for shocks twice a year. The doctor that diagnosed me figured that I had been dealing with this most of my life and just was never properly diagnosed due to a lot of the symptoms being similar to just growing up. Due to my cerebral palsy and my family history, things haven't been so well.
The past three days have been nothing but crying, not eating, and thinking of what I haven't been able to accomplish in my life. I ended last night wolfing down painkillers and passing out at about 3, only to get up at 6 for work. At about noon before I went to lunch, my husband called me, who I didn't want to talk to because when I get like this, I say things I regret. Which I did, but at this point, he's grown used to it and knows when I'm just a mess and when I'm not. So I did the same thing I've done for the past three days. Went on my lunch break, went to my car, and cried myself to sleep. I have a habit of sleeping on break, so I set my alarm on my phone and when I woke up, I felt incredibly better. Like this huge weight had just been lifted off me.
So, I finished my day, came home, cleaned up the house since my husband is coming home tomorrow, ordered up this badass Philly steak sandwich because I can't eat meat tomorrow, finished watching the first season of Friday Night Lights, and am now watching this excellent episode of Supernatural. Tonight is going MUCH better.
God, depression sucks...