pill popping

i hesitate to even write this post because I'm so tired of the subject.  depression.  I know that it's chemical and I know that my self value must come from a place beyond the reach of something as ephemeral as brain chemicals or what I'm able to do on any given day.  But it's hard.  Hard.  I'm doing all that I can to battle the condition.  I've been on so many different drug cocktails in the past few years - I couldn't even list all of the medications that we've tried.  I'm two weeks into a new drug and it's not working thus far.  In the past few years, I experienced two days where I felt like 'myself.'  I felt energetic, creative, focused, hopeful and capable.  The blessing of those two days was also a curse because while they were wonderful beyond words, they made me sad by highlighting what I've lost.  I cherish them because I am still hopeful that there is a way back to that me.  It's a tenuous balance between despair and hope that my 'cure' is right around the bend.

But here I am.  Struggling to do the everyday things and hoping that I'm not damaging my girls.  I hold tight to the thought that they only know what I actually DO, not the intense thought processes that it takes to get to the doing. It's not that I'm sad,  I find joy in my children, husband, friends, and the world in general.  I see beauty.  I accomplish what I must.  It's that while all of that is going on, I want to crawl into bed and just shut off.   I fight my urges to withdraw and isolate but it takes so much energy.  I feel like a failure - unworthy of the multitude of blessings I've received.

I realize that many people have worse situations with which to deal.  And I am grateful that I have a partner that is understanding and helpful.  But I can't help but feel that I'm missing out on my life.  My one life which seems pretty great as it passes me by.