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A bit of an update on my mental state, post-Tramadol: I've been depressed, lately.
I love you all. I forget too easily that around me is not a blank void only broken (when we're both awake and at home together) by my wonderful boyfriend. But there are those of you out there who wish to support me, and you are invaluable and beautiful, and I love you all.
I haven't had a major depressive cycle in about two years now, which is a wonderful thing because through most of college I had them for six months, every six months, like clockwork. But that doesn't mean my mood is particularly good or stable. As I've mentioned all number of times, I have two types of depression: clinical, which exhibits in those life-destroying months of complete dysfunction, and dysthymia, a chronic low-grade depression which means that my base mood is lower than average: in short, I am generally less happy than most people. That doesn't mean that I can't be happy, especially when I'm not having a clinical episode; it does mean that I'm less likely to be happy, and that my good moods can quickly slip away.
In particular, these last few months I haven't been doing very well. This doesn't feel like another clinical episode, I don't think it's anything that major, but it's a step below my usual dysthymia; I've had problems focusing and have been exhibiting many of the symptoms of depression: apathy, loss of appetite, sleep disorders (both too much and too little), a low baseline mood, and difficulties becoming or remaining happy. My anxiety is co-morbid with my depression, and primarily exhibits as repetitive thinking—which, after hours obsessing over the same thought or sentence or worry, can be exhausting. I don't know why this is happening, I don't know what it means. It's just what depression does to you, sometimes.
One of the side-effects of Tramadol is euphoria, and I'm susceptible to side-effects. Chronic pain can also impact mood disorders. So for whatever reason, placebo effect or medication buzz, the medication I took the other day did more than make my body feel better: it lifted my mood considerably. I was pain-free, but I was also chatty and happy, a little dizzy and stupid maybe but for hours I was simply in a good mood. It was a surprising contrast, and not one that I really wanted to experience.
Like I am with pain, I'm pretty damn good at being a little depressed all of the time. I have a lifetime of practice learning to tolerate being a little more moody and morose than most people. I have a lifetime remaining of it, so I figure I might as well be at peace. And I am. But it's still not a particularly enjoyable experience, and it's been a little worse than usual lately. Not horrible, not as bad as it could be, but it's making me unhappy and—contrary to perhaps all appearances—I have a hard time saying so. But it's been painfully obvious since the meds wore off, too obvious to ignore. Dev's worried, I'm miserable, hell I'm even posting about it, and so you know now why I'm writing infrequent reviews, failing to send emails and replies, am desperate to lose myself in games and shows ... and why it means a lot, even if I'm bad at responding, to be reminded that I do have friends out there despite my best attempts to self-isolate and my surprising ability to see only the darkness around myself. Friends out there who are kind, and wonderful.
This isn't me fishing for attention. This is just a thank you, an explanation, and and a little notation that I can come back to when sifting through my LJ tags later so I can see if there's any sort of trend or timing in my mood disorders.
I haven't had a major depressive cycle in about two years now, which is a wonderful thing because through most of college I had them for six months, every six months, like clockwork. But that doesn't mean my mood is particularly good or stable. As I've mentioned all number of times, I have two types of depression: clinical, which exhibits in those life-destroying months of complete dysfunction, and dysthymia, a chronic low-grade depression which means that my base mood is lower than average: in short, I am generally less happy than most people. That doesn't mean that I can't be happy, especially when I'm not having a clinical episode; it does mean that I'm less likely to be happy, and that my good moods can quickly slip away.
In particular, these last few months I haven't been doing very well. This doesn't feel like another clinical episode, I don't think it's anything that major, but it's a step below my usual dysthymia; I've had problems focusing and have been exhibiting many of the symptoms of depression: apathy, loss of appetite, sleep disorders (both too much and too little), a low baseline mood, and difficulties becoming or remaining happy. My anxiety is co-morbid with my depression, and primarily exhibits as repetitive thinking—which, after hours obsessing over the same thought or sentence or worry, can be exhausting. I don't know why this is happening, I don't know what it means. It's just what depression does to you, sometimes.
One of the side-effects of Tramadol is euphoria, and I'm susceptible to side-effects. Chronic pain can also impact mood disorders. So for whatever reason, placebo effect or medication buzz, the medication I took the other day did more than make my body feel better: it lifted my mood considerably. I was pain-free, but I was also chatty and happy, a little dizzy and stupid maybe but for hours I was simply in a good mood. It was a surprising contrast, and not one that I really wanted to experience.
Like I am with pain, I'm pretty damn good at being a little depressed all of the time. I have a lifetime of practice learning to tolerate being a little more moody and morose than most people. I have a lifetime remaining of it, so I figure I might as well be at peace. And I am. But it's still not a particularly enjoyable experience, and it's been a little worse than usual lately. Not horrible, not as bad as it could be, but it's making me unhappy and—contrary to perhaps all appearances—I have a hard time saying so. But it's been painfully obvious since the meds wore off, too obvious to ignore. Dev's worried, I'm miserable, hell I'm even posting about it, and so you know now why I'm writing infrequent reviews, failing to send emails and replies, am desperate to lose myself in games and shows ... and why it means a lot, even if I'm bad at responding, to be reminded that I do have friends out there despite my best attempts to self-isolate and my surprising ability to see only the darkness around myself. Friends out there who are kind, and wonderful.
This isn't me fishing for attention. This is just a thank you, an explanation, and and a little notation that I can come back to when sifting through my LJ tags later so I can see if there's any sort of trend or timing in my mood disorders.