This week was tough.
I fell into my first full depressive episode since I was diagnosed Bipolar II. Being aware of what was happening and not being able to stop the cycle was frustrating to say the least.
I’ve felt it coming for a couple weeks now, but was fighting against it.
Monday was hard to get out of bed. By the afternoon my body felt heavy, I was exhausted, I was irritable and all I could think about was laying in my bed.
Monday night left me restless. Awake at 2:30am with nothing but frustration. Fell back asleep finally at 7am and managed to Peel Myself out of bed to take my daughter to gymnastics and go to work.
The whole day was so HARD. I struggled to maintain focus, I found myself leaning on things when I had to get up, sitting long periods of time, constantly closing my eyes and picturing laying in my bed.
I got home Tuesday Night and I told my daughter that Mommy was having an “Eeyore” day and that I needed to lay down. I slept from 5:30pm – 7:30pm when my daughter reminded me she had nothing to pack for lunch the next day.
Shit. Peel myself out of bed… let’s go to sheetz for a lunchable. “Sure you can get a slushee”. Whatever you want as long as I can go back to bed.
On the way home, I apologized to my daughter.
“I’m so sorry Mommy is having an Eeyore day baby. I love you so much”
And her response brought tears to my eyes and joy to my heart….
“It’s okay Momma, I know you have Eeyore days sometimes. That’s just the way God made you – it’s you’re personality. Besides it would be boring if everyone was the same.”
When you’re on the verge of a breakdown and you hear your 9 year old have more compassion and understanding than most adults you know it makes your heart swell.
Of course, depression turns it ugly. “She shouldn’t have to see this, she shouldn’t be so mature, she deserves a mom who doesn’t have “Eeyore” Days.”
Wednesday was bad, y’all. Not going to lie. I’m surprised I made it to my PDoc appointment, but I did. She started me on Latuda.
Thursday wasn’t so great either. I barely got out of bed for 2 days. I didn’t shower or brush my teeth. My house was looking like some junkie lived in it. I’ve said before – depression isn’t pretty.
By Thursday evening I got out of bed long enough to plug my waffle maker in, make some pancake mix and sit on the barstool at me counter making waffles for dinner. One hand holding up my heavy head and the other pouring, “wafflemaking” and removing.
You gotta do what you gotta do.
Today, was slightly better. I’m still down, but my body isn’t nearly as heavy. After my counseling appointment I’m working on challenging some of these shitty thoughts.
Maybe tomorrow will be even better.
And eventually the cycle will rear its ugly head again, but I’ll have better coping skills in place.
So yeah, if you’re a mom having an “Eeyore” day, or week, or month. Just forgive yourself now. Our kids will have more compassion and empathy for human suffering. At least that’s my hope.
One Flawsome Momma