Bad day. Again.

To: Boss
From: Katie
Subject: Today

Boss,

I'm not sure if Jill mentioned it or not, but I had a pretty major depressive episode recently. It was triggered by personal issues, but I was left really quite ill. So I'm taking medication and getting help and I'm slowly getting better. I'm at the stage where it's hard to be around people, which is so strange - even to me - but I get shaky and upset at any small situation.

I'm fine - and I really am getting better - and I wouldn't mention it at all, but I'm not doing so well today. I keep trying to get ready to come in, but I'm just not able to do it right now. I hate to miss seminars, but I wondered if I could just work from home today and try to get settled.

I'm sorry. I wish I could explain it better, but I'm not sure I completely understand what's going on with me right now. I do know it's getting better, but there are still days that just feel impossibly difficult.

Thanks, Katie

So today wasn’t good. I had this whole analogy with driving and flickering headlights… It didn’t really fit, and I got tired trying to decide what to say, so I think simplicity works here. I’ll just tell you what happened.
I didn’t sleep last night – I was in bed for a vast majority of the hours of darkness, but I believe I was conscious through most of it. Trying to relax. Grateful for the lack of extreme panic, dismayed at the moments of nausea. But in bed I stayed – no time on the bathroom floor, little time on the loveseat looking for distractions in the form of updated feeds on bloglines.

It was OK, I told myself. I didn’t have to be in early. If I made it to the office by 11 or so, I was still in good shape. I could sleep late. Do my devotional. Take a walk. Watch television. Decide what to wear. Give myself a little pep talk, then pretend I was a functional human being and go to work. I made it yesterday, after all. Got a few things done. Talked to people. Acted normal for several hours before scurrying home so I could breathe again.

So I finally left the bedroom around 7, deciding sleep wasn’t coming though I was tired. I sat on the loveseat and turned on TNT, watched a bit of Charmed and wondered if I could fight demons if need be. Probably not, I decided, I’d just keep freezing time so I could try to sleep. Stare at walls. Not deal with anything. It’d be nice to freeze time. Almost as good as being able to teleport yourself anywhere you wanted to go.

I decided I’d watched enough and closed the laptop when I finished reading all that people had written, so I sighed and looked toward my kitchen. Glanced at the clock and decided that staying on some sort of schedule required movement. So I walked to the dining room table, wrinkling my nose at the messy kitchen but leaving the dishes and clutter as they were. I tried to get through my devotional, but felt my muscles clench as I worked my way through Romans 8. Paul was bugging me, I decided. Stupid ‘guard your thoughts against anything God wouldn’t like’ philosophy. That’s asking a lot! I can try to control my actions, but my very thoughts? I can’t even retain control of those without feeling guilty?

Not today, I decided. And I was hot, sitting in the sunshine coming in the kitchen windows. Chienne was eager to walk, so I sighed at her, abandoned my Bible, and went to get socks. She bounced along eagerly, I politely asked her to stop bumping me. As soon as I left the house, I realized every step was painful. There was a twinge in my left hip – likely from the way I sit on the loveseat – all scrunched up into my corner. And I had sore spots on my feet from the pumps I wore yesterday at the office. I didn’t want to walk, but I forced myself forward. I reached the halfway point, paused to let Chienne sniff for squirrels, warning her sternly against pulling on my arm again, and realized I didn’t know if I could get home.

After a moment of panic, I calmed myself and began to move again, sweating in the warmth that should have been a crisp, cool morning. I was tired, I decided. Lethargic, exhausted, and… Dammit, I can’t even think of a third adjective for tired! I just couldn’t today. Couldn’t pull it together. Wasn’t in a state of despair, but definitely wasn’t happy. But this sort of depression is familiar – the irritation and desire to sleep. The extreme desire to avoid people. The inability to get myself to work.

So I sent that email to my boss, another to Unnamed Friend that said I wasn’t doing so well today. I’ve been subconsciously avoiding her calls lately and I didn’t want her to think I was ignoring her out of anything other than my need for solitude. Good, I decided. No more leaving the house – I have food and water and a place to try to rest. I’d go to work tomorrow – when I was stronger. I’d return calls and answer email and deal with life. Later. After I slept. After I gathered my resources. Did some protocol writing from my laptop so I wasn't avoiding all professional responsibility.

The phone started to ring and I sent it a look. Wondered when I’d turned the ringer back on. Considered some excuse about how I lost the charger and had to leave the phone dead, but couldn’t retain enough focus to make it plausible. It rang again immediately and I made my impressed face at Unnamed Friend’s persistence. Then I got up and turned off the ringer. I wasn’t going to answer it – no reason to be irritated by the noise.

So I sent her email. Told her not to worry, that I very much did not want to talk, and that she could now consider herself to be a friend. (It’s a rather dubious honor, especially lately, but there you go.) I don’t ignore acquaintances – I’ll answer those calls and pretend normalcy. But friends are relegated to email and email alone. Except when they threaten to drive to my house unless I answer the phone.

The only thing worse than talking on the phone is someone invading my space, so I called her back. Was terse because the very effort of talking was torture. There were a lot of fines, OKs, I don’t knows. I was reminded of the time M came over – much as I love the person involved, I want to be alone. I’m actually harder to deal with now than I was at my worst. I was scared then – wanted someone to save me. And I’ll get better from here – enjoy this friend I’m so lucky to have, ask the questions that occur to me when I think of her stories when she’s not around, be a friend. But now? I’m not good. I’m used to it, but inflicting it on other people is most unpleasant. [Edited to add: We just talked for a couple hours about her life, which was good. I do like hearing stories - it overcomes my blah feelings about the phone in general. But no talking about me. I don't want that.]

Then I slept. Woke up to an email. One saying she felt a bit guilty for forcing me to talk, but we’d talk again tomorrow. I smiled – I would have left me alone. She’s gutsy, my Unnamed Friend. I like and admire gutsy. And one from work.

To: Katie
From: Boss
Subject: Re: Today

Katie:
Please remember that we are here to support you.

First priority is to take care of yourself and let us know if there is something we can do.

I have suggestions on the [paper I’m rewriting with his help]. We can discuss them whenever you want.

They are currently hand-written notes. Would you like for me to have Jill take a stab at putting them in?

Boss

And I sighed. I managed to find a position that allows me to be weak. He’s much more worried than upset, though I expected as much. It should inspire me to try harder – these people who are so kind, understanding and gentle. They want what’s best – know what’s best. And I can’t make myself do it. It’s frustrating as all hell.

To: Boss
From: Katie
Subject: Re: Today

Boss,

I know the support system is there and I can't tell you how much I appreciate it.

I'm trying to schedule meetings to make sure I make it to the office as much as possible. So tomorrow and Friday are guaranteed to see me there for several hours. Which is good - being there and around people is good for me. I know that, even when I'm struggling.

I actually like reading your written notes. They help me restructure my own thoughts and see where I still need to improve. I really am pleased with the progress that's happened with my writing since working with you so I'll continue to use your notes and correct text myself. I'll look forward to doing that, actually.

Thanks very much. I wish I wasn't asking you to understand something I don't really comprehend myself, but I hope it will ease soon.

Katie

And about 10 minutes later.

To: Katie
From: Boss
Subject: Re: Today

Katie:
Continue to rest and we will get together when you come in.
Boss

I’m resting. I’m eating. I'm doing work from home. There are moments of panic, though they’re indistinct. I can’t articulate them because I don’t know where they’re coming from or what they’re about. I expected the lethargic feelings, but I didn’t want them to be so overwhelming. So encompassing that I’m really unable to function in any real way, though I really wish I could.

I don’t want people to worry. I don’t want to ask for special consideration because I can’t do what I should be doing. I don’t want to ignore phone calls because I cringe at the thought of answering. I don’t want to write more blog entries about how unhappy I am lately.

I want to be better. I’d like to feel cheerful and hopeful and grateful for all the wonderful things in my life. It’d be good to go to work, though I am quite productive at home. There's lots of writing and data analysis to do from here. I'd like to write something and think “cute” rather than “depressing.” Initiate phone calls and offer invitations because I love spending time with beautiful, fascinating, funny people.

I’m tired of feeling like this, though I know I’m getting better. I’m tired of not sleeping – I miss sleep. I’m just tired. Either tomorrow is better or I’m going to start drinking coffee again. Something has to give.