Posted on 17 September 2015 by Michael

head full of doubts

If I swore, I’d be cussing up a storm.  If I believed in a god, I’d be looking skyward and yelling.

But my yells wouldn’t be loud, angry screams.  They’d be sobbing words that would be barely audible or understandable, “Why me?  I am getting better.  I thought I was getting better!”

And I may be getting better.  But I don’t want to delude myself.  Perhaps I am not getting better.  I really have no clue what’s going on.

This post follows no visit with my doctor; it’s no preparation for a visit with my therapist … two common reasons for me to give a report or assess where I am at.

This is just a post about me and my head full of doubts.  Here’s what I know:

Again, the strength:  I do feel more so much more capable than I had as recently as June and going back to March.  I enjoy things like reading and blogging and exercising and hanging out with my puppy and my wife.  There are parts of me that feel so much better.

And while I can’t say am anywhere near liking myself, in the span of just a week or two I’ve identified small pathways there.  I can see how I can stop detaching me (who at times I rather hate because I don’t understand yet how my new self is working) from my enjoyable experiences I often have.  And I can see how that enjoyment can get attached to the new me.

But the last week and a half have been really rough and Anxiety-filled.  And it’s been punctuated by a couple of terrible days.  Days of self-doubt, yes.  But I’ve also fought back from the doubt and said I am just plain old burning-hot angry at some things I think I deserve to feel burning-hot angry about.

But then the doubt comes back.  And I want to apologize for this worthless piece of trash I feel I am.  And then i start sobbing uncontrollably.

It happened today.  Twice.

I woke up at 2 am, filled with Anxiety.  I went downstairs with my pup, Franco.

He sat in my lap as I let the Anxiety wash over me (as my therapist advised me is the best thing to do if the Anxiety is already there).  And then, once it passed I told myself to write, to blog.

A short span of peace.

My wife wakes up at 5 am.  And I have to tell her that I’ve had yet another difficult night in a string of difficult nights.  These nights — and several days — set upon me because my therapist (appropriately) identified that I am still depressed.  She (and I think or I thought) this was more of a “Michael you’re going through a loss of prior self and need to accept” depression (in other words, temporary depression) rather than “your meds aren’t working” depression.

If … if it’s the “you’re meds aren’t working” depression … I am in for a huge fall.  I went through the two months of being bed-ridden depressed recently.  I clawed my way out.  I do not want, and I am scared to death to have to go through that again.

Thankfully, most indicators don’t say that’s what’s happening.

But that doesn’t mean every thing is hunky dory.  I don’t just have to ride this phase through.  It’s not like this is just all in my head.  I mean, yes, it is in my head.  But it’s also about how me, my head, and my “self” relearn to navigate in this world.  And, I must say, some of this new reality feels completely unfair.

Unfair, yes, in a “why me?” sense.  But also unfair in a burning-hot angry “this [the world / my world] is just plain old not right or fair” sense.

I don’t want to get detailed.  Because, first, I may be wrong.  I may be in need of a med change.  I don’t want a wounded mind to be blaming things that just won’t accept or deserve to accept my blame.  I could also just be vulnerable after several nights of very bad sleep as I grapple with some really tough, life-changing stuff my therapist (appropriately) thrust upon me.

But meanwhile, there’s the doubt.

“What’s happening to me” doubt.  “Sobbing uncontrollably” doubt.

Followed by periods of the day when I am reminded that:  I am strong.  I am capable. I am making a ton of difference in the world.  And I can even laugh — even at the unfair world — once in awhile.

But the doubt and the pain and the Anxiety are there.  Or they were at least just a few moments ago.  And they will return.  And I will have to just sit and wonder, “Why me?  I am getting better.  I thought I was getting better.”