I can see it all. I just can’t feel it.

While I’ve caught it before it becomes something much larger, I don’t know why I didn’t recognize it sooner. Still, I recognized it. I’m having a relapse. No wonder why running hasn’t been as enjoyable. No wonder why I haven’t wanted to really date anyone. No wonder why I haven’t sang in public. No wonder why I tell my office mate I don't feel like walking. No wonder why I’ve contacted toxic relationships again. No wonder why I am always tired. No wonder why I am always sad.

I thought about going back on medicine. It’s a painful decision because I have managed for an entire year without medicine. However, I’m seeing the signs of not being able to manage. Irritable: check. Lack of sex drive: check. No joy in things: check. Lethargy: check.  The last straw was crying in the car this morning for no apparent reason. Of course there was a reason; it’s just a silly reason, O.K. not silly because it’s an emotional reaction and those are O.K. and normal.  

When I was crying in the car the song Turning Tables sung by Gwyneth Paltrow (instead of Adele) was playing. The words “Next time I’ll be braver, I’ll be my own savior, when the thunder calls for me” helped me secure my decision. I got into work and called for an appointment. I’m going back on medicine, hopefully tomorrow.

While I am proud of myself for admitting that I need help, that I need medicine, that I caught it faster this time, that I’m prepared to fight it. I still get scared. This of course had me scour the internet with posts about being on depression medicine for life.  I just will be and maybe there will be years like the last one where I was able to go through a lot without medicine. Maybe I am back now to where I was before my accident, before Kate, before when I was taking charge of my happiness. 

I’m doing everything right. I know that.I thought about not writing about this, not putting this up. Not admitting it. However, I’ve always talked openly about my mental health. I don’t think it’s something to be ashamed of. 

It’s just a lot of emotions at once. I feel guilty not wanting to do things, yet I know when I want to push myself and when I don’t. I feel vulnerable because there is nothing I can control and I feel so exposed.(I know blogging about it exposes me more but it's really that I don't want to hide it from anyone, including myself) I feel forced to go back to various technical coping methods. Mostly, it makes me frightened of how the rest of my life will be. 

Don’t read into this, I know that it will be manageable. I know I will be able to live a life that is fantastic and filled with love. I know that I already have most of that life. It’s just hard to know you have a good life, a good family, being surrounded by love and something in your chemistry is blocking it. 

I can see it all. I just can’t feel it. And that is a hard thing to explain.