Living in a major depressive episode is one thing but living in the throws of anxiety is another. I know one causes the other but I can’t decide which one is worse. I’m hoping once the depression is in check the other will move on it’s way as well. I’ve just hit the top dose of my new med and have been promised things will very soon start to get better but the wait is excruciating. And I also know that this may not be the one but I just can’t face that possibility right now.
We took off to a lakeside cottage for a few weeks of R and R…something my partner Karen desperately needed. Work for her has been nuts and she needed a getaway in the worse way. But so far for me it just seems like the same life with a different view. The cottage is lovely and the view is spectacular but my impatience with myself is something I just can’t get over. I know we’ve only been here a few days but my energy, mood and anxiety level haven’t changed with the venue. It was an ordeal to prepare for trip and I have to admit I’m relieved to be all unpacked and settled but I guess I also expected a vacation from myself.
I freely admit that I am my own worst enemy. I know I still have a lot of waiting and work ahead of me but I don’t handle that well. I’ve been threw a lot, I’ve been waiting long enough and my patience is running very thin. I wanted a holiday from this nightmare and although the surroundings, walks, and sitting by the water is a great distraction, it doesn’t seem to be the cure I was expecting.
We’ve only just got here and each day starts with a new hope. I just hope to find the same enthusiasm that the ducks have who great us at the dock each day.
