Spring Sucks… OR… Field trip to the Psych ER

Woohoo. One year anniversary of having been in the Psych ER! Ok, not really a celebratory thing. 

This time of year really bloody sucks.

Hm. Let’s back up. I’m Major Depressive. Yes, I know you know. For whatever reason, ever since I was about 12 years old I’ve had a couple week period of deep depression. Deeper than usual. Always around the end of March, beginning of April. When I was younger, before I understood what was going on with me I noticed it in my grades. I get A’s easily. As my mood deteriorated I wouldn’t even lift an eye to my grades. I got a B in math and my teacher pulled me aside after class and asked me if I had someone to talk to. Every year I had this pattern. {Relatively} Okay, okay, deepest darkest despair, okay. It persists. Everything is always harder for me at the beginning of spring. Darker, spiraling down faster than I can usually brace myself for. For the life of me I don’t know why. If it was winter I’d say I had SAD, except I’m always depressed anyways, and winter isn’t any worse for me than any other time. It’s like a very long cycling badness.

This was my main point for this post, but I figure I’d follow up with an amusing anecdote.



Last year around this time was the final explosion between me and Boring-ex. I’ve mentioned that the only times I really like him is when we’re breaking up, right? I had just moved into my new apartment, finally out of the house I’d shared with Evil-ex and was probably the happiest I’d been in a long, long time. That lasted about two weeks when Boring-ex got his period and abruptly flipped out on me. I hadn’t actually done anything this time, so I was shocked. We ended up screaming in the street, him bitching like a little girl and me not willing to take his shit.

So of course, I went completely crazy. A lot of factors contributed to this though. I only see my family maybe 4 times a year and I was skipping one of those times to spend Easter with Boring-ex, which was that weekend. I was incredibly homesick. I had just started meds for the {first} time a week or two earlier – with a warning that starting new meds could toss my emotional state. This time of year is notoriously detrimental to my mood for deeper depression.  I had just escaped Evil-Ex. We had broken up a while ago, but I had just managed to get out of a very abusive home. The abuse didn’t stop once we broke up. It continued right up until I left and I was still incredibly raw from years of hell. Coupled with this break up being so unexpected I bonked out harder than I have in a while.  Had it just been Boring-Ex and I breaking up, again, I would have been fine. Well. Less traumatized. Well. Not threatening suicide. Which I did. After too much wine and vodka. I was being overly dramatic. I wasn’t really going to do anything. Even then I knew he wasn’t worth even contemplating that. I just wanted him to feel bad. I wanted him to know what a jerk he was and how horribly he was treating me. Bad move on my part b/c he fancies himself a hero of the people and since he wasn’t near enough to me he called the cops. Cops and an ambulance came.  I managed to kick the rescue kids out of my kitchen, but I couldn’t shake the cop out. I was FURIOUS. Apparently Boring-Ex told him I’d overdosed? I was never so specific and of all the ways I could off myself I wouldn’t choose something so passive. I was actually confused when the cop told me this. Anyways, it was either “voluntary” hospitalization or he’d have to process me. Fuck that.

I had managed to slash up my arms a bit and gashed my ankle worse than I ever have before. I did myself some nerve damage on that one. I only had time to draw a band-aid over it really tightly though because I wasn’t about to tell the cop I’d hurt myself.   I pulled on a huge sweatshirt and eventually let him lead me to the car. I managed to hide this from the Psych people too otherwise they wouldn’t have let me go.

As soon as the taxi dropped me back home in the morning I had to run to the drug store for Steri-strips b/c I had to suture my leg closed. That’s always fun.

Perhaps I’ll do another post concerning my adventures in the Psych ER. Lemme know if you’re interested.

In conclusion, if I seem more down than usual in the next week or so, blame the season. This is an irrationally bad time of the year for me. I’m doing what I can to make it less so. Do they do temporary lobotomies? I could really use one about now. Just for a week or two.

BTW, all those chirpy birds need to shut it.
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6 comments on “Spring Sucks… OR… Field trip to the Psych ER

  1. In some ways I can totally relate to this. It isn't necessarily seasonal for me, but when I see "happy" people, I just want to barf. I want to ask them what is there to be so damn happy about? Just shut up and go away. I tend to see them more in the summer so I just want to stay curled up in bed and hibernate until it passes and they all go away and I can be "alone" again.

  2. @Maasiyat… I imagine you cycle differently than I do. Usually I can tolerate happy people, but when I'm down I just want to kick them. I wish I could curl up and hibernate. I miss being unemployed at these times. I could stay in bed all I wanted and not worry ::sigh::

  3. I'm not an alcoholic for one. Yeah, I drink sometimes, but mostly when my mooods bottom out. It's easy for me to stop drinking when I really want to. Two, I'm a genius and my sense of identity shifts from situation to situation. It's easy for me to be professional when I'm in an environment that calls for professional behavior. Having an engaging occupation allows me to channel my energy into something productive. Productivity helps me focus. Gives me a purpose. Having a goal, something to strive for, be a better person for, is important to me. I'm also high functioning and don't have a dependent personality. I've always been able to take care of myself, provide for myself, and do what needs to be done.

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