I thought I had shored things up, armored myself. I didn't think it would happen this year. I mean, we had a great Christmas. We're finally buying a house. My nephew will be born any minute. I should be over the moon! But depression didn't get the memo, and has chosen to winter at my home for the time being. I mean, it wasn't completely without warning. He sent his friends anxiety and insomnia weeks in advance. I tried to ignore them, wanting so much more to see heavenly harbingers announcing Christmas, not those which would announce a dark odyssey into my own head.
I was coming back from taking a friend to the airport the week before Christmas. As I got on the ramp from 85 to 77, I felt the all-too-familiar wash of vertigo. "Oh, God not now, here we go." My heart began to pound in my ears, heat rushed to my scalp where prickles became sweat. I cranked the AC to full blast, moved into the slow lane, and began the mantra: "You are not dying, you are not going to faint, you will not crash this car. Try to breathe. A familiar exit is coming, soon. You can't stop this. Lean in to it. You have to let the whole thing wash over."
I had another panic attack a week later as I went back to get said friend from the airport. (Yes, I know, locations are triggers). I had even had a .5 of Ativan this time. Right about this time the insomnia started to kick in, as well. No doubt the darkness was just around the corner.
That hit on New Year's Day. I know, how cliche to be depressed after the holidays, right? Hey, I may be rather original, but my mental illness just has no imagination.
I sit home today after a night of insomnia and upset stomach, and a morning I just could not face. My meds have been adjusted, which should help. I am about to take a short walk. I also need to go on a "news diet" for a while. Too many unspeakable things happening to children. I can't handle it. I will fight this, like I do almost every January (although who knows why I was off the hook last year). Meds, fresh air, exercise, paint samples and seed catalogues. They are my arsenal. Those, and knowing we are gaining about one minute of sunlight each day!
