What we have here is one of those good news/bad news situations.
The kind where it's hard to tell which is which.
First, some background.
Obviously I have been absent for a few months. Part of that was just busy with projects and some hypomania after Timm got his new job. That eventually slid into a muddied, deliberate avoidance of blogs in general. I told myself it wasn't because I was depressed, knowing that avoidance of any and all social contact is usually my number 1 sign of depression . I also wasn't emailing, or talking on the phone. I had gone from running 25 miles a week, to not having laced up my running shoes in over a month. Pretty much just going to church on Sundays, and maybe grocery shopping on Saturdays. 5-6 days a week were spent in my pajamas all day, sleeping as much as possible, and steadily putting on weight. (12 pounds since Thanksgiving to be specific.) The only time I put my foot out the door was the unavoidable trek to the bus stop each morning at 7:30. In all honesty, I wouldn't even have bothered to do that except that it's much easier to have Bella at school all day. (That and truancy laws.) Sometimes I didn't shower for that many days at a time either. Full disclosure.
After you've spent 6 days straight in your pajamas, haven't left the house, and worn a path into the carpet from bed to couch to fridge and back, it's hard to deny that you might, just maybe, be depressed. Especially when you're daily routine involves sleeping on the couch every morning after dropping your eldest off at the bus stop while your youngest patiently absorbs a lot of Netflix-streamed tv.
Unfortunately this scenario is nothing new to me. I have been dealing with major depression all of my adult life. It's really quite tiresome and boring. So armed with my fancy new health insurance, I decided to go see a psychiatrist for the first time in over 4 years to try and see if we could find a different treatment than the one I've been on for so long. I didn't feel very good about the appointment or her opinion, so I sought a second opinion and waited 3 months to see a different doctor, which I finally did this week. Which leads me to the good news/bad news portion of this post.
The good news is that I probably do not have Bipolar II Disorder, as I have long suspected that I did and researched.
The bad news is that I do show symptoms of the following disorders:
Obsessive Compulsive Disorder
Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder
Generalized Anxiety Disorder
Major Depressive Disorder
and last but not least
Eating Disorder NOS ('Not Otherwise Specified')
You know, your typical OCD/ADHD/Anxiety-ridden massively depressed person with an eating disorder.
I got that diagnosis in Provo before moving here, but conveniently forgot about it until I had the pleasure of reading over my psychiatry records in detail. Hey, if anything can pull you out of a debilitating depression, it's reading over your medical assessments and lack of progress over several years from the perspective of a trained mental health practitioner.On a good note, she did indicate that I was very attractive. (That was of course one line mixed in paragraphs upon paragraphs about my obsessiveness over food, weight, body image, and self-worth.)
So for now not much has changed. This doctor agreed that I am probably nor Bipolar- II or otherwise. I see him again in a month and I sure hope we can make some changes so I feel alive again. Which is not to say that I am sad- those blessed individuals with no experience with depression probably don't understand that. Probably because of the antidepressants I've been on for years, I do not currently have a sad depression. It's the bored apathy that is wasting me. The inability to find any purpose in showering, dressing, or leaving the house. So in the meantime, I'll try to suck it up and make the tiny goals that brand-new mothers and invalids make each day- For tomorrow: shower, dress, and make the bed.
I also read a bit in my files about my Eating Disorder (NOS), which I'll explore in another post. In the meantime I'm planning on going to Weight Watchers tomorrow, perpetuating my 'ED (NOS)'. I'm trying to remember the therapeutic benefits of writing, and will thusly torture anyone reading with an account of this roller coaster.