This Got Very Long. Consider Yourself Warned.

This started out as a general What's Going On With Me post, but evolved fairly quickly into What's Going On With My Brain a.k.a. I HAVE SO MANY FEELINGS.

One of the biggest things going on in our life right now is moving. This is fairly all-encompassing, because it's not just The Move I/we are thinking about, it's everything that we're doing once we get there.

Both Ryan and I are planning on visiting a GP when we get back, and possibly a nutritionist as well. It was originally Ryan's idea, for himself, to get in shape for the wedding and just generally become healthier. As he's talked about it, I've thought about my health more, and how much I need to change. Plus, I'm obviously going to support him in whatever way I can, both in diet and exercise. The details all depend on what the doctor's say, obviously, but we know we need to make a lot of changes. Big changes. Cutting things out of our diet, signing up for classes, getting on the Wii Fit changes. The more we talk about it, the more excited I get.

Something else I'm doing when we move is going back to therapy. I had decided this even before the awful summer I've had, as I still have very specific issues that I'm sick of living with. Then this summer happened, and it became a definite. Most of June and July disappeared into a black hole of depression--and I mean that pretty strongly, thinking back on those months doesn't bring up a lot of specific memories. It's a big, dark, awful blur. August brought a lot of normalcy back, but there have been nights where the emotions want to creep up again. Even when that doesn't happen, I've been thinking about it, and I think I've figured out exactly what's wrong.

...Even before Ryan and I decided to move to Indiana last year, we had talked about going somewhere, mostly because his choice of grad schools for the program he wanted was slim and scattered. I knew I wanted to get out of the area, at least temporarily. Not because I hate the place or the people, but because I felt...stifled. Which is a stupid word if you know my parents, but there it is.

It's hard to grow when you live in a place that has known you as one thing for your entire life.

Everyone, even people who loved and adored and supported me, even the people who were the best for me and helped me grow the little I did, still saw me as the same person I'd been as long as they'd known me. In a situation like that, there are expectations, and actions based on those expectations, both conscious and unconscious. Hell, I had expectations, I have no doubts that I've always been my own worst enemy, and have gotten in my own way more and better than anyone else. Ever.

POINT IS. I was stuck. Then we did the biggest, scariest, and best thing ever, and moved 800 miles to a strange place to live and work with strangers. We gambled everything--our money, our credit, our identities, our relationship, I suppose even our lives--and jumped. And we grew. We grew a lot.

Then, over the second weekend of June, we went back home to visit for four days. We had a great time, we came back, we started up our lives again, and then I fell into a hole and didn't crawl out for almost two months. And even though I'm out of it, I'm still struggling, and I finally know what's wrong.

I'm having an identity crisis.

When we moved out here, I withdrew from my classes at MCC and basically ignored my acceptance to ECSU. I had a lot of interests fighting in my head, to the point of just...seizing up with indecision. I decided that, when we got to Indiana, I would just work. I wouldn't pursue marketing or graphic design or art or editing or anything else, I would just work and see what I would do without any requirements, what would emerge naturally. And it did. And it still feels like I want, with my whole heart and soul, to do and be: mother, wife, artist, writer.

But I'm still struggling with other parts of myself. I'm struggling with parts I didn't know existed, struggling in ways I don't really comprehend. If I think about it too much, I get this disconnected feeling--literally disconnected, as if gravity has cut off and I'm about to float away. I feel like vomiting and screaming and attacking the furniture.

Even if I don't think about it too closely--and trust me, with that reaction, I avoid doing so--I find myself...grasping. I'll think about getting a spontaneous tattoo or piercing, going home and getting very drunk, or even trying a drag of my friend's cigarette--I KNOW. That last one, especially, made me realize that I'm grasping at straws, at others' identities.

One night, talking with Aurelie, I re-mentioned that I loved her new tattoo, and how much I really want to get one, especially before we move back. She said that she'd talked about tattoos with Allie, and they'd agreed that, to them, tattoos aren't about tattoos, they're about feeling so strongly about something that they want it permanently on their body for the rest of their lives. She advised that I should think of it that way, not the way of Tattoos Are Awesome I Want One.

And I started thinking about it, and the more I tried to narrow down that One Thing I felt That Strongly about, the dizzier I got and the more I felt like vomiting and screaming and punching furniture.

POINT IS (again) I have some issues going on, and I need to buckle down and deal with them. Thinking about therapy, I know that I'm going to go in there ready to buckle down, and I know that I'm going to spend a lot of time being asked really hard questions, feeling like I'm going to float away, wanting to scream and run away. It's going be really fucking hard, and it's going to hurt like a motherfucker.

But I have to do it. For my relationship, for my future, for my physical health, for my mental health, for my identity. For my life.

I'm Currently Fan-Freaking-Tastic, Considering It's Nighttime...

Still here, although not all there.

I mentioned recently that I've been depressed; that timeline started around the middle of June. I've felt a bit better the past two weeks, which was either ironic or fitting since it directly coincided with the time of the month I'm usually much crabbier and harder to deal with, first with PMS and then with During-MS.

Then the past week, I've been bouncing--hard--between a bitch, a mope, or a complete spaz. Ryan's despaired of taking me shopping anywhere, even for groceries, and if I'm not working on something (be it barring, writing/planning, or photoediting), my mind is all over the place. Unless, of course, I'm snapping at someone or whimpering in a corner.

I'd really like to know where the hell I went. This isn't me. I have mood swings just as bad as the next girl, I have an entire steam trunk of issues, and I'm always a bit of a spazzy little weirdo, but this is whole other animal. It feels like back in June, someone opened up my skull, stuck in a wooden spoon, and had a fine time mixing it all up.

Something isn't right. And I fucking hate it.

Anyway, that's why I've been really horrible with everything...it's even reached blog posts and photo posts now. I hate making excuses, and I promise I'm not instead spending all my spare time being a sad sack, it's mostly just a lack of physical and mental energy, a hole in my memory, and an inability to keep my thoughts in a straight line.

Love you all. I'll be back eventually. All of me. I promise.

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.

Whups!

Apologies for the lack of update yesterday. To be completely honest, I spent most of the day feeling kinda depressed; no energy, mental or physical, and just a sense of lacking something.

I won't get into the whole background now, but I will say that I've dealt with depression and anxiety for a long time now. It had lessened considerably over the past month or so, the time period where we decided to move and acted on that decision. For a month I was packing, planning, organizing, and putting all my thought and energy into the biggest thing I had ever done, a major life change that took a lot of courage and strength. Even after we landed, I was busy unpacking, building, organizing, shopping, and otherwise working to make this place a home.

As of last week, however, we hit a point where we had...nothing else to do. We're waiting to hear back from Starbucks about whether or not we have jobs, and we're in a holding pattern until that phone call. We can't buy anything more for the house, we can't start applying elsewhere yet, we can't really do anything except wait...and probably call today to check in.

The past two days have basically been a vacation of not really doing anything productive, mostly on purpose. As I already mentioned, I had basically no energy all day, and by the time I did, it was due to activities that distracted from blogging--talking, hanging out, getting dinner, watching TV, etc.

Today will hopefully be a bit more productive, and I will have something to write about tonight or tomorrow. I'm hoping to get money communication problems sorted out: credit card charges haven't processed yet, a payment got reversed because the bank didn't respond*, we haven't gotten our ATM cards or checks yet, etc etc. Wish me luck!

*The payment isn't due until next week, so it's not a Problem, but ARGH.

Edit: Turns out I put in an incorrect account number, which is why it bounced back. Two phone calls and a $39 Moron fee later, it's all fixed. My credit card is essentially useless for the next two days, but after that it's all back to normal. Yay. :)