My depression comes in waves.
I can have days when I feel fine, I can cope with my daughter screaming at me and having tantrums and refusing to eat and everything else. I can get up from a night of awfully broken sleep and feel like a zombie, but still manage to be upbeat and happy, and to play with my daughter and get what needs to be done done and not even give it a second thought. I can have days where I am silly and ridiculous, and I mess about and laugh.
And then I feel it. A gentle tug beginning to pull me under, telling me that soon I am not going to be ok. I can feel It beginning, but I cannot stop It. I am powerless. I try and tell myself that I am stronger then It. But I know it is all lies.
And when I get this feeling, when I know It is coming for me, I feel guilt. Awful awful guilt for what I know I am going to be like. How horrid it is going to be for anyone that has to spend time with me. Although a lot of them wont know what is happening. It is Ashley who bears the brunt of it all.
On the days that It is in charge, I cannot cope. I cannot cope with anything. I go into autopilot, doing what I have to do. I am miserable to be around. I try my best to hide It from Betsy, but she knows. And she is affected by It, this horrible suffocating all-consuming thing. She is affected and she knows
I am not myself. She protests and misbehaves, she gets stroppy and whines and cries and wont be entertained by anything, she clings to me and wont let me move. And I struggle so much. I drag myself through the day, and by the end of it I am exhausted. I stop trying to fight It. I sit defeated, tired and wasted on the sofa next to Ashley, not speaking or even acknowledging him, not asking about his day or how he is feeling. Nothing.
On these days I just want everything to stop.