My "slip" started with a long line of small increases in depression and stress so small that you think you can take just a bit more. I have SAD but because of money problems (and thinking I could tuff it out again for a winter) I did not start taking it in sept. I provide in home care 24/6 for my mom (90) and it is not hard but it is getting harder with her meds causing her to do some strange things late at night. My sister (61) who is in a walker also is here and has chronic pain, so I in effect take care of her too.
I had worked on a new technology and finally had got a license agreement close, they wanted more performance and I just did not know if I could do it, but I needed that deal real bad. I did enough experiments to show we could do what they wanted so that looked good, then the banking crisis hit. The potential license company sells a very discretionary product, and so even though they said all was good my guts said other wise.
The weeks went on, darker and darker with my mood descending as well. I started thinking that I am on some treadmill with little or no hope and that it was all going to go wrong.
I was handling it still, two more things hit that really pushed me over the edge. The first was my GF pushing hard for some kind of commitment, to the point where I did not even want to see her at this time. The other was this, my sister asked me if I thought she should get a puppy, one of them purse dogs. I said NO, she is in a walker, so I would have to walk the damn thing the other part is they yapp and bark. My input had no effect, the puppy was bought, and I ended up walking it at 2/3/4 am with the added effect of its yapping. I know it sounds stupid now, after being on anti depressants for a month, but at the time it was all just too much.
I felt trapped, no future, no hope just a constant slog though a blackness of attempts and failures. I would get to watch my mom slowly wither and die up close and personal. All sorts of things were bothering me, children in TV commercials, singing, even laughter. One evening (my only evening off) as I was getting ready to leave, people were visiting (they visit but do not stay to help) and their laughter was like a dagger in my mind. The dog was yapping and barking, it felt like 100 fingers on a chalkboard. I did not yell, to SHUT UP! I had not let anybody know how I was feeling, its my "job" to be positive, up, the fixer. I wanted away, relief, some peace and I caved in and had that first drink on an empty stomach, then 2, 3 and blackout. Was it the right thing to do, of course not. Was it smart, no. Was I even thinking straight, no. Was I crazy at that point to some extent no doubt I was.
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