I wrote about how grim things had become yesterday, and that I was in the grip of seriously worrying depression. Well, I’m happy to report that things have improved somewhat.
Oh, I’m still depressed, but the pull of my suicide kit, from its hiding place, has weakened a hell of a lot.
I have a suicide kit because, the way my health is going, there will come a point, maybe sooner rather than later, when I will become a burden to myself and/or to others. At that point I’m stepping out. I’ve already written about that before, at length, and I’m not going to do so now – just setting the scene, as it were.
I’ve managed to come to terms – to a degree – with some of what it was that dragged me down in the first place. Which I’m glad about, as there have been times in the past week when I thought, quite seriously, that I wouldn’t make it.
Not that I’m overly prone to depression, as I said. When it hits, it hits hard, but goes away again pretty quickly, before it can drag me too far down (in hours, usually). The scary thing was, this time, that after a week it seemed to be settling in for the long haul. That might still be the case, but I believe I’ve managed to take the dangerous edge off it. I hope so because I’ve been there before, 20-odd years ago, and I have no desire for a repeat performance.
Part of the problem is being diagnosed with a fatal heart condition (the question, which nobody is willing to address, is how long have I got?**), which has rather distracted me from taking care of other stuff, like my ME/CFS, and its DIY treatment. Bottom line, I’ve been consistently forgetting to take the raft of supplements that have kept me on my feet for much of the past 20 years, which also includes a counter-measure for depression caused by one of my COPD meds.
**Even a ball-park figure would be better than what I have now, which is bugger all and, yes, I know it’s difficult to be exact, but I have a right to, at least, a best guess.
For those who have missed it, I have aortic valve calcification and stenosis, and congestive heart failure. The literature – and there’s a fair bit – says that the 2-year survival rate is 50% so, which ever way you slice it, especially factoring in my COPD, my future is just a tad bleak – I could have anything from a few months to a couple of years left – it’s be nice to know which!
So yesterday, I got my arse in gear, and got back into taking my supplements and, by the time I went to sleep last night, I was feeling a rather better (and, despite how crappy I feel, mentally, I am back to sleeping properly, though it’s so long since I was able to do that, there’s a lot of catching up to do, and I’m still profoundly tired).
I am, as I said, still depressed – not all of it is drug-induced, and the reason I gave yesterday is still valid today – but it’s now at a level which, while it makes life crappy, I can deal with though, obviously, I’d prefer not to have to because, as I said, I can’t take antidepressants – SSRIs screw with my lungs, and tricyclics screw with my brain, and neither is acceptable.
And, for a wonder, a little retail therapy has proven beneficial.