Context: I've been writing these this month, mostly on bad days, and mostly keeping them to myself. I found this community via the perchance AI T2I generators (which have been a source of joy). Hope this is the right place to post this.
day tracker 11-25-24
depression 10/10 today. i felt good after stopping the drugs last week. but the albatri still hang around my neck. and I've come back to earth, to reality, to depression. can't call the lawyer. can't do anything.
new theory to be disproven soon: i go on a drug, feel good for a week, then back to the depression. i go off a drug, feel good for a week, then back to the depression. TMS, ECT, or that fancy new shit, electrodes in the brain. I need my electronics re-wired. At least give me a shot with EMDR! Please, I need to do something. Just bumbling along every 2 weeks, might as well not even leave the house. And then it's "do we need to be worried" which is code for the sanitarium. Just the deepest loneliness.
You know, I felt pretty good yesterday. I launched a blog. Posted a few things. Only those who love me will read it. Whatever. I'll never be popular, just the way it is. It was obvious after losing that election for College [redacted] [literally an example of experience matters [redacted]]. So it goes. Some people can convince others and some can't. I didn't get programmed with the winning code.
But I felt good yesterday, and terrible today. I think I'm depressed cowering in front of the albatross.
I was going to say "I have this fatal flaw" and then I thought of two more. Stop thinking, I'll only come up with more.
I was prepared for a lot of challenges. But not someone destroying me from the inside. An abuse victim is the best practitioner. [redacted]. What a team.
I called some mental health places looking for group therapy. But I don't even want the mental health system, I just want a support group. I guess they don't exist for me. Called the [redacted] County Mental Health resources number, they just gave me 3 places to call because their thing is limited to medicaid. [That's a good example of how fucked our healthcare system is, I think I'm going to stop voting].
I called the 3 places. One didn't have group therapy. I left a voicemail for another, probably won't hear back. Tried to call a third. Never connected. Then I cried. Then I looked up support groups but on Psychology Today, thinking now that's probably the wrong place for a group not led by a mental health professional. But I called some doctor who leads a group. Probably won't call me back either. Just found the local MHA affiliate and left a voicemail. Maybe they'll call back.
Crying. I feel best when I'm crying.
My PNP thought these messages were disturbing. I agree. It was a disturbing decade.
Message 1: Taking SRIs during my marriage was like applying numbing cream and sticking my face in a beehive. What I felt, but could not explicate, could not quite grasp: "If you want a picture of the future, imagine a boot stamping on a human face – for ever."
Message 2: People sometimes ask how my wife is doing. Do you think they asked McCain how his captors are doing? The North Vietnamese probably should have given him SSRIs, maybe he would have went home when they offered and they'd have had a propaganda win. Hindsight is 20/20...