Baby is 7mo. This is better. He is kind of fun to play with, he is cute, he makes fewer awful distress noises, and he sleeps better. He’s at one wake-up, which is close to 0 wake-ups, which is close to having our life back (evenings free + full nights of sleep -> I don’t hate everything). I actually look forward to seeing him a little.
I am feeling better. I have a little mental space. My tank is not full but it’s not constantly empty anymore. I also feel like I have much less going on inside my head, for better and worse.
I find it really hard to connect to my more-depressed self. I cannot really connect to the version of myself who felt these things:
- “I vaguely hope I don’t wake up tomorrow” (n.b. I was never suicidal)
- “I’m so angry I need to go out to the garage and scream and punch trash cans”
- “I want to hurt a small animal” (n.b. I never would)
- “See that random stranger, I hope they suffer today” (n.b. I would never cause this)
- “This thing that everyone else thinks is trivial, that I am arguing with T about, I should continue to argue about it”
It’s nice not to feel these things. Still, how is it possible that I’m the same person who, just months ago, felt these things? Inescapably? With Real Knowledge that they were Ultimately True and Would Never End? Outie-innie thing. I feel sad and scared about my Innie. I know I’ll be him again, and that’s overwhelming.
I’m on my third try of antidepressants, Effexor this time. Is it doing anything? I don’t know! It did make me feel kinda bad the first couple days, so that makes me feel like it’s doing something.
Nothing to say! Even to good friends or family or therapist. That’s not entirely true: I am obviously saying something. It just all feels… less important? Like I don’t have as many thoughts. I’m used to having a lot of thoughts.
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