Life is tough at the moment. The relief I felt in early November was short lived. I was depressed all through November and over Christmas. It got worse in January. I can’t work at the moment. I barely function.
It got to the point where my thoughts became sluggish, my movements slow. It is particularly hard in the morning. Things improve as the day passes. I get some relief in the evening. I feel more human. Less of a burden.
I wake early. Usually between 4.00 and 5.00am. I sit in the kitchen and vape. I drink coffee to try and kick-start my brain. My concentration is poor. The effort of writing this is difficult. I sit in the kitchen and experience the worst of the symptoms on my own. It’s lonely. I pray for my wife to join me. I crave company. I crave distraction. I beg for the pain to relent.
I would describe myself as moderately depressed. I’ve been worse. I’m not suicidal. I’m not angry. A bit cranky yes, but not much. I haven’t upset anyone. I haven’t done anything I regret.
I haven’t had a shave in over a week. A shower since last weekend. I can’t. I don’t care.
Finally, when I felt I could go no further on my own, I called my psychiatrist. Arguably, I should have contacted him sooner. Maybe I let it go too far. He offered me a virtual admission to St Pat’s. All of the benefits of an inpatient admission but all the while remaining at home. If there is no improvement, a bed awaits me if I need to use it. It’s an attractive package.
I slept on the idea and discussed it with my wife before putting the wheels in motion. The programme starts this morning. I’m in the care of St. Pat’s once more.
There is comfort in asking for help. I will let someone else drive for a while. I’m going to sit in the back. Maybe I’ll have a nap. Maybe my wife will give me a blanket. Maybe she will be my blanket. There is a light at the end of the tunnel however distant. There is hope.
I can’t enjoy my usual activities. I can’t play my flute. I can’t read. So I listen to music and try to get lost in the beauty of Mozart. I’ll recommence as I improve. I will get better.
So why do I write this miserable post? Maybe someone reads it who relates to my description of depression. Maybe someone is struggling. I urge you to have the courage to ask for help. Life can get better.
You just have to believe.
These are indeed tough times Dave. Always good to ask for help; it keeps you strong. I look forward to jamming with you during the Summer.
Thanks Colin. A jamming session sounds good. We have to look to the future. I’m well aware that everyone is struggling in these difficult times. Sometimes we can’t make it on our own – U2
Thinking of you Dave and wishing you well .. life certainly is very tough at the moment and I can relate somewhat to your post .. keep talking and. Take all the help you can get .. you know this will get better , it always does !!
Love, col
Good on you for raising awareness Dave. I don’t believe this is a miserable post – it is real and many people need their favourite music or movie to escape sometimes. Thinking of you and always, here if you feel like talking. There is always a way forward. Sending love and virtual hugs your way xxx
Good and brave post Dave –
Xx
Take care Dave XXX
Thanks Fidelma. Good to hear from you. Hope you are keeping well