Into the system…

Thursday and Friday were difficult days. I haven’t felt so low and so strange for a long time. I can’t remember when I last felt like that, although I know I have before. It’s just depression in that sense is often forgotten. You cannot remember how bad it feels in between the darkest moments. I was lost in a storm cloud of depression. It was strange. I was so fuzzy,  numb, vague. I was walking through treacle, with a heavy head. I felt almost detatched from my head because it was so heavy. It was like I was carrying this bowling ball around on my shoulders. I sat in therapy and stared through people. I couldn’t take anything in or concentrate on the words floating past my head. I couldn’t concentrate on the others in group, just vague shapes sat around me. I walked back from the hospital in a daze, not noticing anything around me or where I was going.

I saw Dr N on Friday. I couldn’t tell him how I felt. I couldn’t explain the darkness inside me. He just thought it was the come-down from my holiday. He noticed the clarity had gone, but was glad I was not agitated. He almost seemed pleased that I was subdued. Maybe they really do all just want us medicated into zombies? I had hoped he would see that there was something wrong and hoped he could suggest something, suggest a fix. Of course, he is powerless, with Dr G in charge, but I still felt disappointed.

The fog has remained around over the weekend, but wasn’t as bad as Thursday. I managed to break through it at times, but it was a struggle. I kept floating off inside my head as I couldn’t break through all the mist. I couldn’t really concentrate on much. I find it frustrating. Agitation may be tiring, but I miss the productivity. I just feel heavy and leaden at the moment. I have no motivation.

I am frustrated again. I am still disappointed. I feel like I am letting everyone down. I am not doing as I should. I should be better by now. The therapy and the medication should be working. I should be feeling happy. I should be back at work. I should be productive. I shouldn’t need The Priory anymore. I feel like the one that is breaking the mould. The one that is letting the side down. Everyone else is getting better. Everyone else is on the road to recovery and I just seem to be on the road to further illness. Everyone thinks that I am making progress and that I am getting there, but they don’t know how bad I still feel.

I go backwards, not forwards. I hit brick walls and I do not want to break through them. I want to give up and I want to opt out. I take my meds and I see no improvement. I am frustrated by it all. I am ashamed by my lack of improvement. I am ashamed by the fact I am still ill. I am ashamed that I don’t feel up to returning to work. I just don’t know when this will all change. I feel like a broken record. I’m sorry.