I am not acutely psychotic. That is the positive aspect of my current situation. I am telling myself this like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz chanting, "there's no place like home". I am not psychotic.
I am, however, horrendously depressed. Or as I used to say when I was younger and read a great deal of Plath's poetry "in the bell jar". So, right now, actually I am in the deep trenches of depresseive despair - deep inside the bell jar - and do not know how to get myself out of here.
Taking note of my symptoms, I notice that I have lost interest in activities I usually enjoy (like writing this blog, or writing emails). I have cut off contact from other people, thereby isolating myself. I have become despondent. I have lost all motivation to accomplish pretty much anything.
I am definitely in the DSM-IV category for depression, it seems.
The problem for me is not usually that I don't know there's a problem. I have plenty of insight into my problems. The problem is that I don't know how to fix things.
I long for a magic pill to bring me back up to my regular speed of existing. Prozac just isn't cutting it.
I will try to write more here later.
