If There Was A Time To Pray

Ok. Deep breath. This is the third post that I've written since Monday. The first two I couldn't post because my mind wasn't right. I can still feel that things aren't 100%, but hopefully this post makes it to your eyes.

If there's a hell, I've been experiencing it this week. I've been very honest to Sara and my doctors, which is a big step from just a few years ago. Maybe that has saved me. I can say that even writing hasn't helped me feel much better, which is a huge change because usually after I write I feel at least a tad better about whatever is going on.

This is a clinical depression and I've found that it doesn't take much for me to have feelings of aggression towards myself fill my mind. I haven't had a seizure in a couple weeks, but I'll tell you that Epilepsy is a dream when compared to what I'm going though now. With my seizures, I lose consciousness for a time, feel sick to my stomach, confused, and eventually I fall asleep. When I wake up, I feel groggy with a slight headache. Generally, after it's all said and done I feel much better psychologically. I'm a little bummed that I had a seizure because the clock is turned back to zero when it comes to being cured, but I feel like there is very little that I can do to cure my depression. It's always there, and it's very dangerous.

The time of year, being at home alone all day locked in my house, and having nothing to keep my mind busy except the same music and TV shows playing everyday isn't helping either.

Yesterday, my doctors wanted samples of my blood to check all of my medication levels to see if there was a problem there. I woke up with Sara and rode to the city with her on her way to work to be dropped off at my sister's house which is just a few blocks from the hospital. The ride was silent.

After hanging out with my sister, we got out and ate lunch in the city before walking over to the hospital to have my levels taken. I could feel that just by walking and being surrounded by people helped my mood, no matter how temporary that might've been. After the hospital, my sister and I just chilled on the couch and watched for home improvement shows. I felt good.

My doctors suggested that I attend something called Intense Outpatient Therapy. It's basically a month long analysis of my mental health, and classes to teach me better coping skills. I really have no choice but to agree to this treatment. It's not like I'm skeptical about the program, but I'm worried about my ability to absorb the information and actually use what I've learned in real life.

All I can say about what I'm feeling is that it's totally out of my control. It feels like a wave rushing over me. It starts in my chest and stomach eventually enters my psyche. It's like a bad drug slowly flowing through my veins. I don't really notice it until it's too late. By the time I realize what's happening I've already had several dark visions.

I talked to my psychiatrist over the phone for the majority of the yesterday, trying to get my mind right and set me up for the Intense Outpatient Therapy (IOT). Then, guess what!!?? I find out that my new insurance doesn't cover my psychiatrist at NW or the IOT! So, I spent the rest of the day trying to reinstate my old insurance. I cleared my checking and savings account, but I was successful.

So take the man with Epilepsy with emotional disorders on disability and basically steal his money. What a world we live in. Now, it looks like I'm eating pasta that we've had stored in the cupboard and stay home (not exactly what I need) for the next couple weeks.

If there was any time to pray it would be today.