09 Mar 2017 - Foggy
Hello again. Forgive me for missing a day; I was up late working on an assignment, and this got put off.
Day 13 on Lexapro. Aside from the jaw clenching, there's nothing to report side-effects wise.
Today was not a good day for me. On my 1 - 10 scale, today's overall mood was a 4. The good feeling I enjoyed the first few days on escitalopram is gone, and a sadness I've come to regard as familiar took its place, only with a hazy, foggy quality to it. I couldn't pinpoint a reason internal or external that I'm feeling this way if I tried.
I would be less bothered by the sadness if it weren't also accompanied by a feeling of being unwanted and unloved as well. The sensation of being a replaceable, throwaway, inconsequential satellite character in the lives of the people I'm closest to is intolerable, as is the feeling that they collectively are more important to me than I am to them. It's not something I'd wish on anyone.
A part of me wants to give up on Lexapro, since it feels as though it's failed in its intended purpose. It's an antidepressant, and I'm definitely still depressed. This is only the 13th day with it, though. I keep reminding myself that things might get worse before they truly get better, and that the drug needs time for maximum effect. I just have to weather the inevitable storms.
Next week is spring break for me, and I'll be spending it back home in Chicago. Normally, I'd be looking forward to some time off from my classes, but...I feel some kind of way about not seeing a friend that I'm almost unhealthily attached to for a week. Not sad, not upset, not hurt or envious, but somehow all of them at the same time. I recognize my own overdependence on this particular human, and that it's not really a good setup for either of us, but in a way, she's my only support away from home. My only reliable source of social interaction, of minute amounts of physical contact, and the only person readily available that I feel safe enough around to confide in.
I hate myself for the strength and nature of my attachment, and how one-sided the friendship feels at times, with me usually taking far more than I could hope to give and her shouldering far more of the burden of helping me than any person should. If I'm being honest, I keep waiting for the day to come that she decides that she's had her fill of putting up with me, my depression, and the intractable, clingy neediness that comes with it, and cuts me out of her life. This is a fear that I've expressed to her a few times now, and each time, she's reassured me that she won't be going anywhere - and I know without any doubt that she means that. She isn't the type to just abandon anyone that she considers a close friend. Knowing doesn't put a dent in the feeling, though. Feeling was cemented after a major incident years ago, and isn't swayed by evidence or by reason, which makes the sensation that much more frustrating for me.
With all of my friendships, especially when the voice of the depression is particularly loud, there's always the question of why I deserve to have good people around, people that care and seem to like me for some reason. It's a thought that's always running softly in the background, and it makes it challenging to interact - while I always want to be closer, I fear that I'll inadvertently do something to drive someone away, so I end up suppressing myself. Limiting my affection and enthusiasm, trying not to seem too glad to see any given friend.
Interpersonal relationships when you're depressed and forever afraid that anything you do no matter how small will make people leave are a challenge, to say the least.
I think that that's enough soul-baring for one post. Tomorrow, I write from Chicago.
Until then.
09 Mar 2017
Day 13 on Lexapro. Aside from the jaw clenching, there's nothing to report side-effects wise.
Today was not a good day for me. On my 1 - 10 scale, today's overall mood was a 4. The good feeling I enjoyed the first few days on escitalopram is gone, and a sadness I've come to regard as familiar took its place, only with a hazy, foggy quality to it. I couldn't pinpoint a reason internal or external that I'm feeling this way if I tried.
I would be less bothered by the sadness if it weren't also accompanied by a feeling of being unwanted and unloved as well. The sensation of being a replaceable, throwaway, inconsequential satellite character in the lives of the people I'm closest to is intolerable, as is the feeling that they collectively are more important to me than I am to them. It's not something I'd wish on anyone.
A part of me wants to give up on Lexapro, since it feels as though it's failed in its intended purpose. It's an antidepressant, and I'm definitely still depressed. This is only the 13th day with it, though. I keep reminding myself that things might get worse before they truly get better, and that the drug needs time for maximum effect. I just have to weather the inevitable storms.
Next week is spring break for me, and I'll be spending it back home in Chicago. Normally, I'd be looking forward to some time off from my classes, but...I feel some kind of way about not seeing a friend that I'm almost unhealthily attached to for a week. Not sad, not upset, not hurt or envious, but somehow all of them at the same time. I recognize my own overdependence on this particular human, and that it's not really a good setup for either of us, but in a way, she's my only support away from home. My only reliable source of social interaction, of minute amounts of physical contact, and the only person readily available that I feel safe enough around to confide in.
I hate myself for the strength and nature of my attachment, and how one-sided the friendship feels at times, with me usually taking far more than I could hope to give and her shouldering far more of the burden of helping me than any person should. If I'm being honest, I keep waiting for the day to come that she decides that she's had her fill of putting up with me, my depression, and the intractable, clingy neediness that comes with it, and cuts me out of her life. This is a fear that I've expressed to her a few times now, and each time, she's reassured me that she won't be going anywhere - and I know without any doubt that she means that. She isn't the type to just abandon anyone that she considers a close friend. Knowing doesn't put a dent in the feeling, though. Feeling was cemented after a major incident years ago, and isn't swayed by evidence or by reason, which makes the sensation that much more frustrating for me.
With all of my friendships, especially when the voice of the depression is particularly loud, there's always the question of why I deserve to have good people around, people that care and seem to like me for some reason. It's a thought that's always running softly in the background, and it makes it challenging to interact - while I always want to be closer, I fear that I'll inadvertently do something to drive someone away, so I end up suppressing myself. Limiting my affection and enthusiasm, trying not to seem too glad to see any given friend.
Interpersonal relationships when you're depressed and forever afraid that anything you do no matter how small will make people leave are a challenge, to say the least.
I think that that's enough soul-baring for one post. Tomorrow, I write from Chicago.
Until then.
09 Mar 2017
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