This past week, I've been feeling fantastic: I kept myself well occupied, thought positive things, had a lot of fun and a lot of laughs. The only thing that could have been better was more sleep. Roomie has gone back home, but still sleep is evading me...
Last November, I fell into a major depressive episode at the worst possible time. Obviously, "D" can't be blamed for the way I handled things, but the break up threw me right over the edge. Also, he picked my first day at a new job to tell me he was leaving. Life felt pretty bad for a long time, but some how I got myself out of bed every morning and into work. I don't believe that I ever missed a day because the episode was getting to me (short of doctors appointments) . It was, however, taking a serious toll on me and I'm still struggling with changing the bad habits I developed during that time.
When we broke up, I had no apatite and suffered from insomnia - which I'm told often happens when one goes through a break-up, but probably not to this extreme. I couldn't stomach anything, and even looking at food made me feel sick. I think I went roughly ten days on no food before I had to see a doctor as my hands were going numb caused by vitamin B deficiency. And sleep, no matter how exhausted I felt, came late and was rarely peaceful.
Eventually I got into a routine that, while not ideal, allowed me to be a relatively well-functioning human. I lived off of coffee and vitamin water to help me stay focused at work and forced myself to eat something every evening. I lost 30 lbs in roughly six weeks. And I learned to work with getting 3-4 of sleep a night. People are pros at adapting, I guess.
Anyway, this went on for roughly a year, even when I was feeling mentally back to normal - although I did train myself to eat little more throughout the day to keep headaches at bay. So when this winter started getting tough and I caved and got prescriptions drugs, we found something that could help me get a full nights sleep on top of anti-depressants. And let me tell you, it was fucking glorious. How the hell had I managed to get anything done or stay sane without more than seven hours of sweet, sweet sleep every night? I had energy, pep in my step, and I was happy.
That was, however, to be short-lived: About a month ago, while having a session with Elle, my tongue seized up. Weird, right? I just couldn't finish the word I was in the middle of saying. I had to stop and sort of stretch out my tongue before I could continue. (Thank god I have my appointments with Elle over the phone, or that would have been mortifying) But then it happened again and again, for days, every time I'd have to stop for a second and wait for my face to relax. It felt like was developing a stutter, and it was really scaring me.
Thinking it might have been stress-related, I sought my doctors help. She promptly took me off of the magic sleep aid, saying that it has been known to cause tremors or twitches, though they should be isolated to the limbs. Now I am back to being lucky to scrape three hours disjointed sleep and it's killing me.
I had, up until yesterday, what I think was a reserve of energy/good mood that kept me going. So long as I didn't stop talking or moving, I could stay focused, energized and efficient. I seemed to have reached my limit, though. And what happens when widdle babies don't get enough sleep? They get cranky as fuck, which does nothing to help me in my path to normalizing my mood.
This cycle of ups and downs is driving me bonkers. It's really hard to go over all these positive mantras when all I want to do is stomp my feet and scream.
I'm sure it's probably up to me to do it for myself, but I wish some one would come here and save me.