it's happening again

After a couple of months of being very stable on meds it seems that they've pooped out on me. At least my anti-depressants have. :( I'm severely depressed. I spent the first three hours of my work day running to and from the bathroom so I could bawl my eyes out. My makeup looks horrid because of it. It's a good thing it's allergy season or someone might've suspected that something was up. My excuse for having teary, red eyes has been "allergies" all day long.

No one at work has any clue that I have a mental illness. Most of the time I'm good at hiding it. When I'm depressed (like I am now) I do have a tendency to miss work, though. I'm surprised I haven't been fired yet, especially after last week's fiasco.

This depression started right after surgery. I decided to call in on Monday because I was still hurting pretty bad and bleeding very heavily. Tuesday I woke up queasy and literally couldn't sit up long enough to put my makeup on. So I called in again. What should've been one extra day off turned into an entire week. :'( My boss was ticked and who could blame him? The reason I missed Wednesday and Thursday was because I blacked out about five or six times in that time period. Thursday I hit my head on the bathtub and now I have a bruise on my forehead. Lovely. I called in Friday because the doctor gave me orders to check into the hospital on Thursday. I didn't go. Everything has been such a trainwreck since my surgery and I don't know why.

Wednesday night I broke down in front of my Monkey after taking a handful of Xanaflex. I cried and cried and explained to him (or I tried, anyway) that while I was severely depressed and even suicidal, I didn't want to die. I know that doesn't make sense but it's how I feel. I want to live. I have plenty to live for! But the living part is just so damned hard when I'm this depressed. We even discussed putting me in a hospital for a while. I'm sure that would go over great at work. Sheah.

I don't understand my brain chemistry. It's so screwed up that I can't even be on TWO anti-depressants and still not get depressed. Lame, lame, lame!

So it's off to therapy I go tomorrow to discuss this depression crap. I'm sure she's going to look at me like I'm crazy (hahaha... no pun intended) when I tell her that I don't have a sound reason for being depressed. I'm worried about being hospitalized again. It's nearly to that point. I don't want to be hospitalized. Been there, done that. Twice. I'm scared either way. If I stay this depressed (or it gets worse) there's a chance that I may decide to take more than just a handful of Xanaflex. It wouldn't be my first OD. I'm a terrible hyper-medicator but I've only seriously OD'd twice in my life. Once on Restoril (a benzo like Xanax). Once on Ultram (pain killer). It takes a lot of pills to kill yourself, fortunately, and I never took quite enough. Just enough to probably fuck up my liver for a while and to make me seriously ill. (Well, with the Restoril I only slept for three or four days.)

I'm trying to talk this out... rationalize it all in my head. I'm trying to keep people that I love and that love me informed of my mood so they know what to watch for. I'm trying not to give in to my urges to self destruct but it's not an easy task. And it's a tough decision to go inpatient. I have work and school and a husband and it's not as easy as it was at @21 to get sent to a hospital for a week or so. There are more serious consequences now. (But what about the consequences of being suicidal?)

I really just don't know what to do.