For some reason, I have a lot of lines from songs running through my head right now. Like the title of tonight's post...it's a line from a Jack's Mannequin song. And from Relient K: "Being apathetic's a pathetic way to be, but I don't care." Both of those lines capture the state I'm in right now. Numb, apathetic, wishing for an escape from reality...nice, huh? I've been running on overload lately. Blogging has been very helpful insofar as it allows me to get out all of my thoughts and emotions, but maybe it's also a bad idea because it makes me realize exactly what all I'm dealing with. Maybe I'm so unmotivated right now because I'm shutting down as a defense mechanism. I bet mental health professionals would have a field day with all my introspection.
"I wake up to find it's another four-aspirin morning and I dive in"
(That's a line from another Jack's Mannequin song, just in case you were wondering.) Today has been an odd and unhappy day. I really didn't want to get out of bed, so I stayed in as long as possible before I had to get up to go to lunch with Dad. When I got back home, Mom and Brian were outside in the pool. I thought about joining them, but then I figured I better get some work done for my internship. I sat down on the couch to figure out what I should do first, and I literally sat there for ten minutes unable to make up my mind. Should I read my book, or should I listen to training materials on CD? Should not have been a difficult decision. But yet, there I sat, and I pondered upon what I should do, and then I guess I just spaced out until I looked at the clock and realized that ten minutes had gone by. I sprung to my feet, a little frightened at my weirdness, and figured I better do something. I went into my room to listen to a CD my pastor gave me. Bad idea. Well, going into my room probably wasn't a bad idea. But shutting my curtains, turning off the light, and crawling into bed in the middle of the afternoon to listen to the CD were probably all very bad ideas. Within about five or ten minutes of turning it on, I was out cold. I woke up when the exit music came on at the end...the CD was 62 minutes long. I had slept for about an hour.
At about that time, I realized that Mocha had come inside with me whenever I went outside to tell Mom and Brian I was home. That meant that for the last hour, she had complete run of the house with no supervision. Since she is still just a puppy, we can't leave her unsupervised because she'll chew things up or use the bathroom inside. All of this ran through my mind as I realized that I had been shut up in my room...the thought occurred to me that I should get out of bed and see what she was doing. But as quickly as that thought came, I dismissed it because I just wanted to stay in bed. I fell back asleep until Mom woke me up for dinner.
This is bad. I slept for a majority of the day. When I finally did get up, I still didn't want to. And because I slept for so long, I didn't get done what I needed to get done for tomorrow. I really don't care though. All these things raise red flags in my mind, because I know it's not good to sleep so much, to want to sleep so much, to blow off responsibilities, and to not care about blowing off responsibilities. The red flags are not enough to motivate me to do anything about it though. This is really bad.
Alzheimer's everywhere
You know how they say husbands can have sympathy pains when their wives are pregnant? Sometimes I wonder if there's such a thing as sympathy dementia. I swear that I have picked up some of Mom's symptoms. Like today, I couldn't make a simple decision and I totally forgot all about needing to watch Mocha. Or maybe this is what they call stress.
The past couple days, I have been seeing a commercial for Aricept, which is the drug Mom is on for Alzheimer's. Every time I see it, I want to pick up the nearest heavy object and hurl it at the TV. Why such a violent reaction? Don't ask me. I really don't know. But I can't stand it! Maybe it's because the people on the commercial have grey hair and wrinkles, but my mom is young enough to be their daughter. Maybe I just hate being reminded of the disease while doing something as ordinary and escapist as watching TV. I should be happy, because Aricept is something that helps Mom and could help others facing the disease. The urge to be destructive is not very indicative of being happy, though, so lines are getting crossed somewhere.
Another week
Mom, Brian, and I sat down tonight to make a schedule for Mom to follow every day of the week. Brian has been on vacation since the 2nd, and tomorrow he goes back to work. I don't think Mom is going to handle it very well. She has gotten used to Brian being home for over a week, and now it's back to her being alone for most of the day. Hopefully the schedule will help her to stay focused on activities and keep her from getting too depressed. We'll see.
I have a meeting in the morning with my pastor, as I do every Tuesday, to talk about the progress of my internship. I don't want to go...I want to sleep. I have nothing to report, because I have done absolutely nothing of value in the past week. I fear that I am reaching the point of letting depression interfere with my ability to function on a daily basis. Especially after today when I felt zero desire to do anything except stay in bed, I am horribly afraid of what I am becoming. It's not like there has been some crisis event or something that has happened to upset me outside of just trying to deal with life...but it seems that life is getting too hard. My old ways of coping don't really seem effective anymore, and the things that usually make me happy aren't really cutting it. I have an appointment on Wednesday with Dr. Mowry (just me this time!) for an overall wellness check, so I am going to talk to her about my concerns. Maybe she will up the dosage on my antidepressant. Yes, that's right, I'm on medication for my psychological well-being. I used to not want people to know because I thought it made me defective somehow. Now, though, I am more concerned that people understand there is nothing shameful in needing a little help to balance out chemicals. No one berates a diabetic for needing insulin, so I see no reason why there should be a stigma attached to a depressed person needing medication. Sorry, had to pull out the soapbox for a few minutes.
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I would apologize for another depressing post, but if you've become a regular reader then you are fully aware that this is probably what you're going to get. Right now, I guess I'm just trying to make it to Wednesday when I see Dr. Mowry and I'm hoping that she'll be able to help. Ironically enough, Mom is seeing two different specialists at The Ohio State Medical Center on Wednesday as well. Hopefully she doesn't get any news that would cancel out whatever help Dr. Mowry can give me. So now, I'm going to go do what I do best...make my room as dark as I can possibly make it, slip under the covers, and shut out the world until morning. I welcome your comments and thank you for stopping by.
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