I'm seriously depressed. I got referred by my primary to a psychologist who has seen me 3 times. He has me come in about once every 5 weeks. I also got referred to a therapist, who I was able to see every week or so. For a while, back in March, I improved a bit. But that collapsed.
Six weeks ago, my brother died from a meth overdose. I flew to where my relatives live for the funeral. I thought that being with them might also help ease my depression. Not being alone did help. I visited each of my two sisters. I considered telling them that I'm not doing well, but I decided not to. I put on a good face. I got loads of experience acting like I'm ok when I'm not.
They weren't encouraging me to stay with them beyond what was necessary for the funeral. So I left a lot sooner than I thought I might. One sister used to get mad, if I complained of depression. She believes depression is a choice. So I stopped mentioning it to her years ago. The other sister tells me to just get professional help, so I didn't mention it to her either. Now I'm home and getting worse and worse.
I'm alone almost all the time. I know that's bad. Lately, I only want to stay in my apartment. I keep going back to bed. My place is becoming a mess. I can barely manage to brush my teeth a few times in a week. I'm often wishing I could die.
Mostly, I wish I could be around other people who I could talk to . . . not because I want to whine and complain about feeling so low. I just want to be not alone . . . but I stay in this apartment and won't hardly leave it. I don't want to be admitted to a psych facility. I know what that's like. It can feel awful lonely. I did that four years ago, when I got suicidal after my boyfriend died. From that I recovered and did pretty well for a good two years. Now I'm in free fall, and the bottom doesn't seem to be coming anytime soon. I think of suicide. There's got to be a way of escape.
I think about hiring someone to stay with me for a day or two. Maybe, if someone were here with me, I might not feel so awful. Then I could clean up myself and clean up my apartment. I just eat bread and butter because I'm not up to cooking a meal.
My Vicodin pills help a little. I don't get a big supply. I have to be careful to ration them out. Otherwise, they'll run out too soon, and I'll have withdrawal. I take cannabis edibles to be able to sleep at night. They don't give me any euphoria, so I don"t take them during the day.
They say you can always ask for "help." I've done that. It's no good because I'm too depressed.
