It seems I got a little cocky and it bit me in the ass. I was thinking the antidepressants were doing their work and I was going to feel a steady improvement. I had a good four days over the holiday weekend, and even managed a total of twenty miles in hiking, walking, and jogging. But today, it’s back.
I had a hard time getting up this morning. I didn’t make it to the office until almost 10:00 a.m. I had difficulty focusing on my work. I felt overwhelmed all day. Over nothing. I had a workout with my personal trainer at noon. It didn’t seem to help. I cried driving home this evening. The whole way. Over nothing.
It’s back. The Big D. And I’m not talking about that shitty city north of me.
I hate this feeling. This feeling of not being in control of my emotions. This feeling of hopelessness. For no reason. Yes, I got involved in a relationship I shouldn’t have gotten involved in. But I got out. Three and a half months ago. I should feel better. Instead, I feel like a rat on a wheel. Only I don’t have the energy to run on the wheel. I’m just sitting on it. Sitting and staring out through the wire cage.
I wonder if this is how the medication works; in fits and starts. It’s only been thirteen days. It should get better, right? I see Dr. McEnroe again next week. I’m guessing he’ll increase the dose. In the meantime, I’ll just tough it out. And looking on the bright side, at least I saved the crying until I was on my way home from the office. All this crying over nothing is ridiculous. This feeling of an anvil on my chest is wearing on me. I’m doing what I can to make it stop. It’s just not happening fast enough.
It’s times like this, I think it might be better to be a bachelorette forever. With cats. I’m really not sure another relationship is worth the risk.