Tag: #failing

Crossing Signal

Twelve days ago I upped my Welbutrin by 50%.  I explained to the teledoc I wanted her to increase it by 100% but to do it with 50mg tablets.  Aparently, that’s illegal.  Learned something new. 

I started the 150mg and waited for my brain to accept and become comfortable with the saratonin level rising.  In twelve days I’ve taken my meds maybe eight times and it’s not sending a consistent signal. 

There was the initial placebo-effect knowing help was coming and the constant hoovering-up of the happy chemical would be able to play longer on the gray matter would become reality…..then hope faded and the darkness reasserted itself and I’m compounding the signal by skipping a dose every few days. 

To avoid fault at all costs, I’m thinking my emotional brain is sending the signal it wants relief where my pragmatic brain is countering the signal with….now you have to take responsibility and do something about all the things the depression has kept you from doing.  That thought exhausts me when I see everything I’ve been avoiding.

I think the signals need to be flooded with saratonin so switching to my old dose and taking two might keep the signals from crossing and confusing me….What do you think?

Reality Schism

I’ll admit it, I’ve been struggling. I’ve been fighting the good fight for weeks but today the void is sucking me back in. Yesterday I realized I was doing it to myself and I need to stop…..but I’m having too much fun!!

I’ve been free writing again. I’m blissfully living in the space between my ears. I broke one book I wrote (Heart of My Mothers) into a trilogy. The original was too dense because I wanted my character to grow and experience life adjacent to the plot. My readers liked the story but it was suggested I break it up into three books so I could bring in more detail.

  • Book 1 Andi (Mother): Is ready to be sent to an agent or publisher, I just have to create the query letter and do it. It terrifies me I’ll do it wrong. Wrong means I fail…..again,*
  • Book 2 Veronica (Grandmother) : Is written and needs editing….like Edward Scissorhands level of editing, which magnifies my skewed reality I can’t write perfectly the first time around.*
  • Book 3 Claire (Great Grandmother): Free writing where even the original book isn’t a reference and anything can happen. I’M LOVING EVERY MINUTE OF IT.

The problem? I still have to live in reality. I still have to drag myself out of bed every day and face the world. I still have to take my medication. I still have to apply for jobs. I still have to go on interviews. I still have to remind myself death isn’t a solution.

This morning, by the time I convinced myself to get up (It took an hour today), take my meds and feed my bird I was crying. My reality is just really hard right now. I’m looking for glimmers, I’m walking more than I have to (goal is three times a week) and I still feel like I’m failing. Failing crushes me.*

My character isn’t failing. She fabulously wealthy, she’s popular and she’s the hero in her own story. I’m poor, few people know my name and I’m trying hard not to be the villain. Is there any doubt why I want to live there?

So, right now I’m straddling these two worlds. The endorphin rush from creation strips the serotonin on my brain. Low serotonin makes me want to escape into the story. I don’t know how to heal the schism without tearing me in two.

So I bought yarn.

Any suggestions?

* I know this is wrong thinking. I feel like Sisyphus constantly pushing the right thinking up an impossible hill only to get flattened when the rock rolls over me.