Hello again guys. I haven't posted for ages because I've been well, and getting on with life. I haven't been doing so well recently though, so I hope it's alright for me to post here in a rather needy way for a little hand holding. I'm back in a depression, and have been since the start of March. My hypomania wasn't very extreme, which is typical for me, and coincided with a much anticipated trip away. I guess it kinda skulked in under the radar because I thought I was excited and stupidly happy about just me and DP being in a place I love for a few days away with no DCs. DP didn't spot it either, which he's a bit upset about as he's normally really good at seeing my soft markers; even before I do sometimes. Meh.
Anyway, so I'm stuck in the fug that is major depression. Oh the joy... I think what's kind of making it worse is that I'm still, on the surface at least, functional. So I can force myself to go to work, go to the supermarket, etc- I don't 'look' depressed. But all the joy has gone, and with it all my sociability. I haven't seen friends for ages, not even been able to text them, though they know I'm ill as DP told them. I just don't know how to face them; everything takes so much energy that I just really don't have. My body feels like it's been hit with a truck, because my thighs ache like I've just run a marathon. I know it psychosomatic pain, but it hurts; does anyone else get this too? It takes me everything I have to be able to go to work and be as normal as possible for the DCs; there just isn't anything left. I feel totally flat, irritable, low, downright sad; there's lots of emotional shitstorms and sobbing when it's safe, ie the kids aren't around and I don't have to interact with anyone other than DP.
My twin 'helpful and friendly' demons of self harm and anorexia are poking their charming little heads above the parapet; almost like they're taunting me. However, they are not paths I'll be going down anytime soon. Disordered thoughts are telling me that I don't deserve DP too, though I know from what he tells me that's rubbish, and that I just need to hold on until I feel better and it will all make sense.
As I said, meh. There are times when I hate my feckin' neurochemistry...