|Image courtesy of creozavr on Pixabay. Creative Commons licensed.|
I went back on antidepressants, and it's not helping.
It's not the fault of the antidepressants. They work like a champ on my SAD--seasonal affective disorder. No, it's just that too damn much else is happening in my life. So I'm going to vent. Lucky you!
I post on Twitter under a pseudonym because it gives me some much-needed freedom to say whatever I feel I need to say. I don't abuse others, but I don't hold back when it comes to my opinions or my thoughts about life, the universe, and everything. Yesterday, I tweeted something like, "I think I might have just quit my job."
The reasons why and the story behind the tweet are complicated (still no resolution at hand), but my feelings are shifting all over the place about it. To know why, we have to rewind 10 years.
We are coming up on the anniversary of the day our lives ended, as I used to think of it. My husband's place of business died, Lehman Brothers was told, "no bailout for you," and the stock market began its months-long, extreme crash that killed our investments. I remember feeling like a deer in headlights, watching the approaching disaster, and not able to do a damned thing about it.
I'll never forget Monday, September 15, 2008. The panic had not yet set in. Eventually, it did.
Fast forward to Spring, 2015, and the job I landed. I've been there 3 1/4 years. If I leave, I know I'll feel that old panic about not receiving a paycheck. [OMG! We're going to starve! We'll lose the house!] So I'm feeling panicked about not working again. It's an emotional reaction. We are so much better off than we were in late 2008 that the panic is, honestly, irrational.
But who said emotional reactions were rational?
That unholy mess, plus an insane number of committments, including training for the Kentucky Senior Games for my shot at going to the National Games, and I am feeling an incredible amount of pressure. Nothing in my life feels right. (Except when I exercise, which exorcises demons.)
This, too, shall pass. At least, I keep telling myself that.
Back to work.