On Monday, something that’s blindingly obvious in retrospect ocurred to me: I’m teetering on the edge of a serious bout with depression, and I’m starting to lose my balance. Collapsing into a puddle of tears and heaving over something minor was a big wake-up call, and since then, I’ve felt a bit better because I actually am aware of what’s going on. But, I also feel worse because I’m aware of what’s going on, and yet it’s still there, dammit.

I’d already started to consider that my thyroid might have crashed — I’m eating well, exercising, whatever…yet nothing happens. When I’m not caffeinated, I can barely hold my head erect once 3pm hits. (I’ts 3:17. I’ve had coffee today.) Last week, when I met a friend for a hike, I had a reaction to heavy traffic that was much stronger than the situation warranted…to where I wanted to put a fist into the windshield, maybe not *quite* literally, but close. There was a sense of being outside of myself, watching the reaction, but unable to stop the physical dizziness that always used to accompany a mild anxiety attack.

What else?

Hmmm…reading a lot, not for the joy of reading, but more to fill my mind with something besides its usual contents…fixating on the new-and-shiny, whether it’s an annoying article or the next big purchase…falling behind on real work, yet just letting it happen…finding myself overly stressed about my bitchy dog’s usual grumblings. (She’s getting arthritic. I can’t say I blame her for being cranky.)

It ain’t pretty. Honestly, it was pretty damned frightening, once I admitted to myself what was happening. It’s been years since I’ve felt like this, and yet it came on so slowly, I didn’t even notice it. In my intellect, I know who I am and what I offer. I see the smart woman who can take on the world, raise an amazing child, and live life with vitality. Depression isn’t about intellect. It’s something irrational that all the “thinking yourself out of it” in the world won’t solve.

What’s different this time is that it’s not just me. There’s a surly (she’s teething today) toddler who counts on me to help her life make sense. Her presence is, I think, why it took so long for me to recognize the signs. I’ve coasted along, performing on a slightly subpar level, for months, but have always kept the proverbial house in order. I think that’s why Monday’s lightbulb moment was such a shock to me.

I’ve called my counselor, and we’ll talk soon.
I see my doctor (PA, actually) on Tuesday.
In early August, I’ll see an endocrinology specialist if I still believe that this might be hormonally induced. Considering my mother lost most of her thyroid function in her early 20s, it really wouldn’t be surprising.

I’m also seriously looking at work options outside the home. Working from home while simultaneously caring for a 21-month-old child is becoming difficult for me emotionally. While I can physically do it, my mental health can’t hack the isolation. My current problem is that even though I’ve found a job that interests me, I’ve worked myself into enough of a funk that I’m terrified to apply. Egads, what if I’m (gasp) rejected? The horrors!

For Maya, I don’t think she’s been adversely affected…yet…and I intend to keep it that way. One bright spot: while nearly everything else in my life can act as a trigger for either anxiety or tears, I don’t react like that to Maya. She invariably gives me a lift, even when she’s throwing herself on the floor into a tantrum because her mouth hurts and I won’t allow more TV.

Fear
Fear is the hallmark of this episode — the one thing that seems to tie all of the symptoms together. When I’m feeling more up to it (or trying to procrastinate getting something else accomplished), I have more to say on that subject. For now, I’m back to work. Or not.

What does it mean that I recognize ways I could have written this into some clever dialogue between me and a visiting shrew, but I just don’t have the energy to make that happen?

I just. don’t. feel. that. clever.

Because of all of this, blogging might be light. Then again, it might be especially heavy, intense and a TMI view into my deep, black soul. Who can tell?