Easter of Failure, Manitou Cliff Dwellings

Easter did not go well. I struggled to wake up, and then when I did wake for Angelica to do her Easter egg hunt and find her Easter basket, I was low and anxious. I was low last week too and called the psychiatric nurse but she never called back.

Then we tried an Easter Mass and the incense dried out my eyes and the crowds bothered me, and even though it was a gorgeous church with panoramic views of the mountains and prairie, I felt stifled and in pain. We left early and by the time we reached the car I felt like slitting my wrists. I didn’t, though. What I did do was take extra clonopin and just numb my brain out for the rest of the day and into Monday.

I have held out for awhile now being normal (except for rocking back and forth when my anxiety is bad) and doing normal things. We went to the Manitou Cliff Dwellings a few days ago and it was great. I drive. I take trash out. I read. I am living and documenting life and staying out of the hospital. But beneath it all is a flowing stream of depression. I cry at the laundry because I can’t fathom dealing with all the stuff. For every one time I meet up with a neighbor to talk or have a playdate, there are five more times I could have but I didn’t because I couldn’t socialize. I am in this really weird place where half the time I am ok (not great, but fine) and the other half of the time I am dropping so low I need new drugs or even the hospital. Right now I am doubling up on my antidepressant while I wait for the nurse to see me tomorrow. I am cycling too quickly.

I was definitely at my worst on Easter though.   This move has been traumatic. I miss my family. I have no support network in Colorado. Back home I could have called my Mom and she would have come and helped with whatever I needed and kept me company. Dad could have gone to a movie with me. Linda would have come over and I could have talked to her.  Other friends were just a phone call away. Here Craig goes to work and I am on my own. I have a part time babysitter, but she is a kid. I can’t talk to her. I have good neighbors here, but I don’t know them well enough to call or text when I am having a bad day.

The only thing that lifts my spirits is how beautiful it is here. Mountain and prairie both sing hymns to my soul. That and how much I love my house. Craig has made it a very happy little nest for me. Now if I could just balance out and enjoy it.

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