And when i'm lying in the grey sleep/ I don't know how to walk the boards

I open my eyes, and look at the floor
And now i don’t see you anymore”

[Bauhaus – Burning From The Inside]

So I was doing so well… until last night.

It’s like being locked in a dark cell with one window to the bright outside, then suddenly escaping and rejoicing in what you’d been denied… then just as suddenly, finding yourself snatched back, sentenced to the dark place again.

Fuck.

I didn’t catch it at first, the shift back toward the same feelings I’d had. I was sitting at the computer last night, avoiding things I was supposed to be doing by playing an aimless game of Chuzzle, when this weird feeling came over me. I felt – well, the best way to describe it is like this. Have you seen the White Stripes video for Seven Nation Army? I felt like that – things coming at me, me sinking back deeper and deeper – but not down but back. And it wasn’t visual, it was physical, but not like vertigo – not in my head, in my body. If I’d kept my eyes closed for long enough while that feeling was going on, I think I would have passed out. Not fell asleep, but shut off, like I’d drank too much. Does this make sense? I really feel at a loss of words to describe the feeling, as I’ve never ever felt like this before.

[if I watch the video and think about how I felt, I can almost bring the feeling back. Weird.]

I also got TREMENDOUSLY down, but the way I felt last night doesn’t even compare to tonight. I’ll get to that in a minute, but I wanted to mention that it did get worse. Last night, I felt like a waste of space, a loser, like I was fucking up again because I couldn’t move, couldn’t get anything done. I sunk into myself and it was SO hard to break free from it that I eventually decided that I needed to go to sleep to make it stop.

This morning, I was fine. I think the sun helped, my disposition was back to post-first-days-of-meds levels. Rob and I went out and had food, got coffee, made menu plans, bought groceries. We got back here and it was dark outside and I was tired… and then hungry, but I couldn’t be bothered to make food. I should have known then that it was coming. I felt the sinking again.

Rob talked to me and I couldn’t look him in the eyes. This happens when I’m really low, I don’t want to look people in the eyes. I’m embarrassed, and the contact quite frankly hurts. I can’t explain it better than I feel too exposed. Eventually, after much prodding to get me to move, I did – then burst into deep sobs. I just don’t want to do anything when I’m like this. It’s too hard. It hurts, but in the way of something missing rather than a specific pain. Again, I hope I’m explaining this correctly.

I’m due to go back to Dr. Naz on Monday. I am supposed to give her an update and see what she says. Obviously something *was* working, but isn’t consistently now – I’m assuming at this point that she’ll up the dose. [Right now I’m at 30mg and the “typical” dose is 60mg.] I want to stay at the lowest dose that works, of course. I’m not looking forward to the possibility of going through the side effects again.

I feel so hurt by the feeling of having happiness and productivity and the real me being taken away again. I know this is a process and that it will take time – but I’m here to be honest, and I’m hurting right now.

I write, as openly as possible, about my experiences with life, love, creativity, depression and not-depression. I share opinions. I promote compassion and change. I talk about music. I also write poetry and short stories. I like to share them here.

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