I know I said I was going to do it a couple of days ago, but I just didn't get to cutting the soap until today and I think today, I on'y did it because I needed to get it off the kitchen table and since I was going to do that, I told myself that it needed to be cut. So, it is cut and sitting in two large Tupperware containers with parchment paper between the soap and the plastic. Of course, it is still sitting on the table, but most of the table is cleaned off. I suppose that is progress. Only it really isn't because I tossed most of what was on the table on the floor.
I called and cancelled my doctor's appointment today. I was supposed to take Amanda to the park and ride and she did wake me up at 6:20 am for a shower like I asked her to. I was so tired last night that I just went to bed. Well, I asked to sleep just a little longer and Amanda forgot about my appointment and went to work. I tried to get a hold of a friend but couldn't and I didn't have a bus pass. Well, apparently I should have tried harder to get there because my doctor's office called and told me that they need 24-48 hours cancellation notice and that to reschedule, I will need to go in and pay a 50 dollar fee. The nurse also told me that they don't have any lab records for me. I explained that I was under the impression that I would get a call from the lab place to set up an appointment. Nope, not the case, I was just supposed to fast for 12 hours and then show up to have lab work done. The nurse also informed me that they did hear back from the GYN that they referred me to but didn't give me an appointment or even any information. I was told nothing about the councilor I am supposed to be referred to. That fucking sucks.
Which brings me to the depression.
I've been trudging along, pushing through stuff and burring feelings, forcing myself to do things I know I just don't have the energy for. How is this different from any other time that I've vented, whined, and cried about my depressive state? It is different in that while I don't want to kill myself I don't feel like I could be happy with never waking up again, I am hitting bottom in a different way.
A couple of years ago, I used to get up, do my hair, do my make up, dress nice. I had a job, my own car, and kept my and Amanda's apartment clean. Sure we would have a little clutter now and then, but it was clean. We kept up on laundry. I plucked my eyebrows, I took showers every other day.
Today, to be frighteningly honest, I haven't showered in two weeks. I can't remember the last time I plucked my eyebrows or wore make up. Sure I've made efforts to wear nicer clothes. I refuse to look at myself in the mirror. I am so overwhelmed by what would probably only take me an hour's worth of cleaning to do, that I've sat and cried most of the morning. More than that, I'm so overwhelmed by my homework and this week it is easy. I only have to read the text book and a link, do an annotated notation on it for the discussion board and then do the same for four of my narrative paper sources. No big deal. But I've panicked and cried over that. I don't know what my issue is with the damned shower. Yes, it is small. Yes, the humidity really gets to me, but I had some fixes for that. I have had trouble with this damned shower since we moved in and have wracked my brain over why I don't like, why I never want to go in it. I'm coming up with nothing except that I am depressed. Amanda asked me last night if I get a bad feeling when I am in there. The only thing I can think of is that once I step in, I want out as soon as possible and have to try to keep the panic down until I am out. That has never happened to me before and I am a totally water baby, I love the water.
Worst of all, there are somethings that I am trying to set up for myself. Camp NaNoWriMo is this month. I haven't written anything. The office is in a way that I can go in and write. But that overwhlems me too. I am trying to do some research for a couple of other things, things I really want to do and those things overwhelm me.
I am so overwhelmed that I can't move and its fucking ridiculous. I have got to get control of this. There is so much that I want to do. I feel like I am locked in a cage in a pit and my depression is standing at the lip with a cement truck, dangling the key and every day filling my pit with more and more cement. And while it does it, it's stripping away little bits of me every day.
In effort to not let the asshole win, I'm going to take some headache medicine, because I have a horrible headache from crying. I am going to lay down for a nap for a little bit, and later, I will force myself to get dressed and cleanup a little. And yeah, I already had my impulse eating and ate a pickle. At least they don't have calories.