Here Comes the Rain Again

Here comes the rain again
Raining in my head like a tragedy
Tearing me apart like a new emotion

Annie Lennox is narrating my life right now. Indeed it is raining again and it is a tragedy. It’s back and it’s taking me prisoner. It came on slowly and calmly in the late spring but the past few weeks have solidified it and named it for what it is: severe major depressive episode.
Biology is an interesting thing and I am learning much about my own. Each hour I can feel the anxiety, fear, sadness, guilt and solitude and these feelings are strong and they are real. I am sick…again. Different from last summer, but just as incapacitating. Let’s try this med and decrease the other, oh wait, now you are having akathisia (restlessness and agitation) so we need to stop the other new med. I feel like I have danced this dance many times and it feels just as frustrating and scary as it always has.
I am lucky to have invested treatment providers and, of course, my family and friends. I kept quiet for a while because I did not want to make it real and I did not want to disappoint anyone that I could not maintain myself.
My mind is full of negatives and fatigue. How to help someone like me in this situation? Please do not ignore it. You can ask how I am feeling. You can ask if you can do anything to help. You can simply be with me, offer a hug (I may or may not accept, so please do not take it personally!). I need that cheering section to offer its voice, yet again. I need prayers for health and I need your positive wishes.
I hope to have a better plan tomorrow. Weekends are difficult especially during this transition in terms of changing my meds. I can make it through today with the promise of tomorrow. Good thing there is  no rain in the forecast for tomorrow.

Asking for Help

Here I am, closer to the end of my recovery from severe depression than I have been before and I feel horrible. It started over a week ago when I experienced more irritability than I do normally. I didn’t think about it much but it continued and has now grown to random bouts of severe anxiety, trembling and terrible fatigue. Working with my doctor, she believes I may be toxic on my meds. Since I am doing so much better, the dose of my meds may need to be adjusted as a result. I went for a blood test to see what the levels of my meds are but need to wait at least another week for the results. For now, it’s a guessing game. We are decreasing one of the meds slowly and then will look at the others. 
While I know this is actually a very positive thing, I am stuck in the rut of not feeling well, physically and now suffering the emotional piece. I feel sad, not terribly sad, but enough to worry me. I have to exert all of my energy on convincing myself that this will pass and that this is not a recurrence of the depression. It is difficult to do this though when the feelings are so similar. The bonus is that I am now wired differently and can grab onto my strengths, even if it feels as if I am holding on for dear life.
The trauma of my illness haunts me and I spend my waking moments fighting this and doing everything possible to keep busy. Luckily I have a lot of work to finish up by the end of the month, so that is helpful. I have trouble being still (this is called akathisia: from the meds), so in a way, it is good for me to walk more than I usually do. I hold on to my loves and this helps me tremendously.
Sometimes I have a hard time asking for help but this is definitely a time when I need some help, more support than anything else. I just need to know that people are on my side and cheering for me. When I used to hear the Rachel Platten song, Fight Song, it would empower me in a meaningful way as I would belt out the lyrics while driving. Now, I feel heavy and burdened and I am left wanting to feel that strength again. That strength felt so good.

I know I will. I have to be patient. I have to keep fighting.