Time is Moving Backwards

Ever have one of those days where you glance at the clock and then do what feels like an hour's worth of work and then look at the clock again only to discover that a mere 10 minutes has passed? That's today.

I love the new Dyson DC35 Digital Slim that I picked up recently. Yes, the battery doesn't last very long, but it's so convenient and easy to use that I can do maintenance every day and never have an issue with the battery. I'm doing well on the cleaning project. Have to get one more stack done and possibly buy another bin for the storage unit, but it's a lot better. Meanwhile, I'm taking a bit of a break from housework. I'm under orders not to get right to work on dinner or cleaning when I get home. Forced relaxation...

It's working, though. Between the new awareness, the deliberate rest, and the new medication everything is going pretty well. I still haven't really talked to the boyfriend about the meds. I told him that I'm on them, but I don't know how to explain why. I had to go in because I was really causing some strain and he's the most important thing in the world to me. I couldn't lose him over my inability to maintain a stable mood. So here I am, back on anti-depressants with no way to explain that I'm not depressed because I'm sad, but rather I'm sad because I'm depressed. In fact, I should be the happiest I've ever been in my whole life. Everything is going my way. The fact that I'm not just over the moon all the time was one of the early signs for me. It's all getting back on track now.

I just got into an argument about donuts. How silly is that? Is there a definitive difference between a cruller

and an old fashioned

or am I imagining that? I never thought the two were interchangeable. Always thought of crullers as light and airy, whereas old-fashioneds are dense and cakey... Oh well, as I mentioned, not important. That said, a client brought in donuts and I was pretty excited because there wasn't a single kind that I like. It's hard to resist the snacks in here sometimes, especially when the medication makes me hungry all the time.

Currently reading:

Thursday Blues

I'm not sure how to approach a discussion that I have to have. How am I to explain that I am going back on anti-depressants to someone who doesn't believe that depression is truly a disease?

I've been on and off anti-depressants and anti-anxiety medications for most of my adult life. I had a good run of about 5 years where I didn't need any medication. Then, slowly, my mind started to creep back to that place. I'm the happiest I've ever been with a great relationship, a steady job, a place to live. And yet, I feel broken, empty, miserable. I can cry at the drop of a hat. I've been sobbing at movies that, while sad, do not warrant hysterics. My friends now actively avoid me and I can't get a handle on my weight. Being lonely and overweight doesn't help with the depression. And the ball rolls down hill gaining speed and gaining size until it's all there is.

When my partner told me the other day that he wished I could be happy, it wasn't what he said that struck me. It was how he said it. He sounded worried and frustrated. He, who always has the solution to every problem, sounded like he didn't know what to do. I feel like if this hadn't been brought to my attention then I would be in serious danger of losing him. He must have thought at this point that he would be happier with someone who could make up their mind for 30 seconds and who could smile on occasion.

So after some long talks with a few great friends, I've made up my mind. I have an appointment today. If the doctor recommends it, we'll do a thyroid test. But either way, I'm going back on the anti-depressants. I can't do this alone if I think I can't talk to anyone about it. The hardest part for me is looking back over the past few months and realizing that this has been going on a long time. Long enough that I can't understand why no one has said something sooner. I will update later with exam results. Appointment is in 2.5 hrs.

Monday Morning Revelations

Nothing stings quite as much as hearing the person whom you love the most in the world say that there isn't anything you're passionate about... except, of course, for realizing that they're right. I realized last night that, for the sake of pragmatism, I've given up a lot of things that make me who I am.

Four years ago I took the job that paid well, instead of the job that I had been dreaming about for years. I thought that the higher salary would allow me to do more of the things that I want such as buy a house and travel. At no point did I consider the cost to my well-being of taking a position for no other reason than the money. Don't get me wrong, I have learned so much in my current job. I used to love coming to work everyday if only for the new things that I would learn and for my amazing coworkers. Turns out, that's not enough to sustain me. And the cruel irony is that I still don't have that house, nor have I traveled anywhere that I used to dream of.

Ultimately, that's what I gave up. I thought that I was being responsible, pragmatic, practical. I was trying to be the person that I thought I was supposed to be and I forgot that I am a daydreamer. I gave up the dreaming and tried to build myself into something that I'm not. Since I was a kid, I desperately wanted to work in a bookstore, preferably a new/used store that has little tiny rooms and stacks of books that appear to make no sense, but actually are organized if you know what you're looking for, but really, any bookstore. Because the thing that I am the most passionate about is the pursuit of a good story. I love books. Always have. And I want to share that with people. "'A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies,' said Jojen. 'The man who never reads lives only one.'" - George RR Martin in A Dance with Dragons: A Song of Ice and Fire: Book Five.

It makes me sad to know how much this has affected my partner's life as well. I don't know how long it's been going on (obviously I haven't been paying a lot of attention), but every day that I come home stressed out because of work, I know it wears on him. He said, last night, that he wished I could be happy. I wish that I could be happy, too. But wishing isn't enough. So, for him and for myself, today I start again. I've been looking for a new job, for something different, but mostly for something that pays better. Instead, I'm going to look for something that will make me happy. I'll always be able to pay my bills, and if I work at it I can get ahead even on a smaller budget, but I can't be happy just anywhere. Work to live, don't live to work.

On a lighter note... I'm starting Ship Breaker today. Picked it up this morning, since I just finished The Warlock (The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel) last night only to discover that the last book doesn't come out until next summer. Also, I reinstalled Diablo II: Lord of Destruction Expansion Set on my computer yesterday and promptly played for 3 hours. I forgot how delightful that is!