I'm not completely sure what the problem is, but I seem to be getting (or have gotten already) extraordinarily depressed. At first, I thought it was just exhaustion. I am usually off on Fridays, and every so often I am so tired by the end of the week that I sleep a lot on Friday or Saturday. It's not laziness; it's usually just fatigue. I have been diagnosed with so many different things, but the underlying physical problem I've had for a very long time is fatigue.
However, today this feels a lot more like depression than just fatigue. I have so many things I need to be doing, yet no desire to do any of them at all. I have no desire to talk to anybody. I was supposed to get together with a friend, and instead of calling her to plan that, I did nothing. I don't feel like going anywhere. I don't really feel like I can deal with my life. Normally, I would have the self-discipline to work on my online courses, as I am taking two of them, and I am behind on the work for both of them. My plan for the day was to do a lot of coursework, not sleep or lie on the couch trying to forget the world. I failed at accomplishing anything, which, of course, makes me more depressed and angry at myself.
Another bad sign is that I ordered pizza. When I was totally psychotic and miserable and not functioning, and had no car and no real friends, I used to live in the room I rented in Virginia and spend a lot of days - even weeks, where I never went anywhere. And for some reason, I got into a habit of ordering pizza, instead of taking a cab to the grocery store. So I would live for days on nothing but pizza and Diet Coke. That was seven years ago. Today I feel like that person again. I don't even drink soda anymore, normally, and I'm supposed to be watching what I eat, but I ordered pizza and Diet Coke instead of getting out and going grocery shopping. Once in a while I'll have a scary day - usually on the weekend - when I'm totally not my regular self. This is one of those days. I need to get out of this abyss quickly.
I believe part of the problem is my medication. Oh, incidentally I was supposed to get my Risperdal Consta injection today, and for the first time in years, I did not get to the community mental health center to do that. I always, always do that on time. Today I didn't feel capable of doing it. And for some reason, when I got my Wellbutrin refilled this time, I was given plain old regular Wellbutrin, instead of the XL kind that I'm supposed to be on, that I've been on for years. I called multiple times this week to the mental health center and tried to get this straightened out. I called the pharmacy; they said to talk to my doctor. I called my case manager, who said she'd talk to my doctor and get it straightened out since I normally cannot get through to the main number at the mental health center as they always have a busy signal and no one answering the phone. Anyway, I never heard from the medical assistant who was supposedly going to help straighten this out. That is who the mental health center appoints to deal with people as you can't actually talk to the doctor herself. So no one ever called except my case manager, who said that the medical assistant should be calling me.
It's been a few days now, and I've been on the wrong kind of Wellbutrin. One thing I know for sure is that Wellbutrin, the way I normally take it, which is 450 mgs of the XL version, works for me. It is definitely not working right now. I know people are busy at the mental health center. I realize that they do not have enough staff to deal with all the consumers there. I understand that the doctor must have made a mistake when she wrote my prescription. But, this kind of thing is really not acceptable. If it's at the root of why I'm so depressed right now, then it's having a major impact on my life.
If I could afford the co-pays, and get off the injections, I'd definitely go to a private psychiatrist, where I might have a better chance of getting in contact with the office when necessary. But I don't have the money for that, and I've been on these injections for a long time, so I can't simply try an experiment and stop getting them. Now, I have to go first thing on Monday morning and get the shot. This weekend is bound to be difficult.
When the pizza delivery guy came, I opened the door, because normally I don't get a lot of unplanned visitors, ever, so I knew it was him. And I went outside so the cats wouldn't get out and signed the receipt. Just after he left there was a commercial on TV saying how you should never open your door to strangers. I immediately thought that the commercial was a special message to me, and had to talk myself out of that, and then ended up crying because it was so confusing and because I'm so sick of this crap happening, and because I was doing well without these thoughts for the past few months, but they always, always come back. In the past hour it happened several more times.
The fact that I had to stop seeing my therapist (another result of going to the community mental health center for treatment), a couple months ago, has also had an impact. I used to use my therapy sessions as a way to affirm what is real, versus what is not, if I was having this kind of thought again. Right now there is nobody I can really have as a back-up plan like that, to help me sort through the annoying brain messages. One thing that my therapist and I figured out was that by the time it's the day for me to get my injection, I really need it. The effect definitely wears off by the time two weeks have gone by, and my symptoms have often returned at this time. I know this. Yet, I didn't get dressed today until it was time to open the door for the pizza delivery guy, so obviously, I didn't even come close to getting to the center to get my injection. This was very stupid.
I have also been doubting that my plans for the future are good ideas, and especially thinking that my plan to go into the social work program at a local university next year is a good idea at all. I feel right now that I would not even want to be a social worker. I feel like I will never get through college anyway, so it doesn't really matter what kind of degree I try to get. I could have graduated with my A.A. this summer, but I chose to get more credits so I could enter that social work program instead. I no longer think that was a good idea, sometimes. The problem is I'll have to move to go into that program. I can't drive my beat-up car to that university several times a week, because the car is just not that reliable. So I would have to move and leave behind my entire life in this area to do so. That would not have to happen right away, but it would be a year from now, and I have to plan this out far in advance. I feel terrified when I think about moving. This would mean having to start over at another community mental health center, which could very likely be far worse than the one I go to now. I would lose my case manager, who I've been connected to for five years. I would have to change my entire life. It's not as simple as wanting to move, getting up, and going somewhere. I have to think of a way to find an affordable apartment. The place I currently live in is owned by a mental health housing agency, and even though I don't get discounted rent, I do have affordable rent here. I have no idea how I will find an affordable place again. It literally took ten months on a waiting list to get into this place, while I was living in a group home. If you're not bad off enough to be in a group home or a hospital or something like that, normally you can't get an apartment owned by a mental health agency in the first place.
But, all this said, I do not think that I will feel this depressed forever. I may feel much better tomorrow, or at least next weekend, after I get the medication issues straightened out. I think I will force myself to do my classwork by Sunday night when it is due. I might not accomplish much else besides that, but I will do that. I have self-discipline. I'm not a lazy person. It's just this great, big muddy that is the problem. Down in the doldrums for right now. But it won't be this way forever.
However, today this feels a lot more like depression than just fatigue. I have so many things I need to be doing, yet no desire to do any of them at all. I have no desire to talk to anybody. I was supposed to get together with a friend, and instead of calling her to plan that, I did nothing. I don't feel like going anywhere. I don't really feel like I can deal with my life. Normally, I would have the self-discipline to work on my online courses, as I am taking two of them, and I am behind on the work for both of them. My plan for the day was to do a lot of coursework, not sleep or lie on the couch trying to forget the world. I failed at accomplishing anything, which, of course, makes me more depressed and angry at myself.
Another bad sign is that I ordered pizza. When I was totally psychotic and miserable and not functioning, and had no car and no real friends, I used to live in the room I rented in Virginia and spend a lot of days - even weeks, where I never went anywhere. And for some reason, I got into a habit of ordering pizza, instead of taking a cab to the grocery store. So I would live for days on nothing but pizza and Diet Coke. That was seven years ago. Today I feel like that person again. I don't even drink soda anymore, normally, and I'm supposed to be watching what I eat, but I ordered pizza and Diet Coke instead of getting out and going grocery shopping. Once in a while I'll have a scary day - usually on the weekend - when I'm totally not my regular self. This is one of those days. I need to get out of this abyss quickly.
I believe part of the problem is my medication. Oh, incidentally I was supposed to get my Risperdal Consta injection today, and for the first time in years, I did not get to the community mental health center to do that. I always, always do that on time. Today I didn't feel capable of doing it. And for some reason, when I got my Wellbutrin refilled this time, I was given plain old regular Wellbutrin, instead of the XL kind that I'm supposed to be on, that I've been on for years. I called multiple times this week to the mental health center and tried to get this straightened out. I called the pharmacy; they said to talk to my doctor. I called my case manager, who said she'd talk to my doctor and get it straightened out since I normally cannot get through to the main number at the mental health center as they always have a busy signal and no one answering the phone. Anyway, I never heard from the medical assistant who was supposedly going to help straighten this out. That is who the mental health center appoints to deal with people as you can't actually talk to the doctor herself. So no one ever called except my case manager, who said that the medical assistant should be calling me.
It's been a few days now, and I've been on the wrong kind of Wellbutrin. One thing I know for sure is that Wellbutrin, the way I normally take it, which is 450 mgs of the XL version, works for me. It is definitely not working right now. I know people are busy at the mental health center. I realize that they do not have enough staff to deal with all the consumers there. I understand that the doctor must have made a mistake when she wrote my prescription. But, this kind of thing is really not acceptable. If it's at the root of why I'm so depressed right now, then it's having a major impact on my life.
If I could afford the co-pays, and get off the injections, I'd definitely go to a private psychiatrist, where I might have a better chance of getting in contact with the office when necessary. But I don't have the money for that, and I've been on these injections for a long time, so I can't simply try an experiment and stop getting them. Now, I have to go first thing on Monday morning and get the shot. This weekend is bound to be difficult.
When the pizza delivery guy came, I opened the door, because normally I don't get a lot of unplanned visitors, ever, so I knew it was him. And I went outside so the cats wouldn't get out and signed the receipt. Just after he left there was a commercial on TV saying how you should never open your door to strangers. I immediately thought that the commercial was a special message to me, and had to talk myself out of that, and then ended up crying because it was so confusing and because I'm so sick of this crap happening, and because I was doing well without these thoughts for the past few months, but they always, always come back. In the past hour it happened several more times.
The fact that I had to stop seeing my therapist (another result of going to the community mental health center for treatment), a couple months ago, has also had an impact. I used to use my therapy sessions as a way to affirm what is real, versus what is not, if I was having this kind of thought again. Right now there is nobody I can really have as a back-up plan like that, to help me sort through the annoying brain messages. One thing that my therapist and I figured out was that by the time it's the day for me to get my injection, I really need it. The effect definitely wears off by the time two weeks have gone by, and my symptoms have often returned at this time. I know this. Yet, I didn't get dressed today until it was time to open the door for the pizza delivery guy, so obviously, I didn't even come close to getting to the center to get my injection. This was very stupid.
I have also been doubting that my plans for the future are good ideas, and especially thinking that my plan to go into the social work program at a local university next year is a good idea at all. I feel right now that I would not even want to be a social worker. I feel like I will never get through college anyway, so it doesn't really matter what kind of degree I try to get. I could have graduated with my A.A. this summer, but I chose to get more credits so I could enter that social work program instead. I no longer think that was a good idea, sometimes. The problem is I'll have to move to go into that program. I can't drive my beat-up car to that university several times a week, because the car is just not that reliable. So I would have to move and leave behind my entire life in this area to do so. That would not have to happen right away, but it would be a year from now, and I have to plan this out far in advance. I feel terrified when I think about moving. This would mean having to start over at another community mental health center, which could very likely be far worse than the one I go to now. I would lose my case manager, who I've been connected to for five years. I would have to change my entire life. It's not as simple as wanting to move, getting up, and going somewhere. I have to think of a way to find an affordable apartment. The place I currently live in is owned by a mental health housing agency, and even though I don't get discounted rent, I do have affordable rent here. I have no idea how I will find an affordable place again. It literally took ten months on a waiting list to get into this place, while I was living in a group home. If you're not bad off enough to be in a group home or a hospital or something like that, normally you can't get an apartment owned by a mental health agency in the first place.
But, all this said, I do not think that I will feel this depressed forever. I may feel much better tomorrow, or at least next weekend, after I get the medication issues straightened out. I think I will force myself to do my classwork by Sunday night when it is due. I might not accomplish much else besides that, but I will do that. I have self-discipline. I'm not a lazy person. It's just this great, big muddy that is the problem. Down in the doldrums for right now. But it won't be this way forever.
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