Raw Ruth of Now.

Okay, you know what? It's time for the truth.

I haven't just been cranky. I mean, yes, I've been cranky, but that's not all. I've been depressed. Really depressed. Maddeningly depressed. It's like some evil hand reached into my head, cranked every negative dial it could find up WAY past 11, gassed the whole place with a dark blue funk cloud, put me on a hair trigger, and then left little remote control negativity bombs set to go off whenever I have a moment of idle thought.

I've been snapping at co-workers. I've been listless and beyond anti-social, the idea of doing simple chores feels immensely taxing and complicated. I've been crying...a lot. I can't honestly call them crying jags because they don't happen at random times all the time, but when they do happen it's out of my control. Phone calls have been just about out of the question, which I really hate...I promised myself after Connecticut that I WOULD be better and more regular with communication, with all my parents, and I WANT to be...but the energy just isn't there. I might hate that more than anything else.

Is life stressful right now? Yes. YEAH. Has been for a while, basically since we arrived here. This is not because of that stress. This is not because I'm miserable in Indiana and wish we were back in Connecticut. This is not because we're broke. This is not because I hate my job. None of these things is true (well...we ain't rich, but my point stands).

I'm honestly not sure why I'm suddenly overwhelmed by everything, why I feel so...miserable. I also don't really know how to make it stop. Ryan has been indispensable, and I'm trying to focus on happy things and doing what makes me feel better--reading, photography, etc. Sometimes it helps. Sometimes it doesn't.

The reason I started this blog and moved from LiveJournal almost two years ago was so I could talk about my emotions honestly. I've never actually done that to the extent I had originally hoped...well, here it is.

I don't want worried calls or texts or e-mails--hell, I don't want worry, although I know from experience that's impossible. I won't lie and say I'm okay, because obviously that ain't the case, but I'm not about to hurt myself or crawl into a bottle of Kahlua or check myself into a hospital because I can't deal with anything anymore. I am dealing as best I can, and I know I will get through this, one way or another.

This depression has lasted almost a month. If September comes and I'm still this level of miserable, or worse, I will be visiting a doctor to get some kind of medication. It's not a good time to start seeing a therapist here in Indiana, but I do have one lined up in Connecticut. While I really do not want to go back on medication, the idea of feeling this way while moving back to Connecticut, settling back into the basement, starting at a new store, all without therapy...it's not a pleasant thought. As I said, though, I am dealing as best I can, and I have support.

I don't want anyone losing sleep if I don't update or call back or respond. I don't want anyone worrying about my health or my safety. But I don't want even worse ideas forming because I don't update or call back or respond, and I don't want anyone to think I'm not thinking or remembering them.

I just want to be honest.