So you could say I've been dealing with a major depressive episode. I'm not sure why, to be honest. My best guess is that my learned hatred of medical school coupled with a bunch of other personal things combined at just the right time to throw me off course almost completely. To show you what I mean, let's use me as an informal psych case study! Here is what the last week has been like, with a new but ultimately textbook twist at the end:
Monday I cried between every class and a little bit in class. Then I took a test.
Tuesday I fought with everyone. And then apologised. And cried myself to sleep, then slept oddly.
Wednesday I think I avoided everyone because of the snow. I thought about cleaning or making food but just sat on the couch instead, possibly doing nothing at all.
Thursday I woke up determined to have a good day. I got my hair braided and chatted. Then I sat in bed and cried. A lot.
Friday I made it through a whole day of class - barely - then sat hopelessly on the classroom floor for half an hour because I couldn't pack up my things to go home. Then I went home and crawled into bed and cried.
Saturday Matt was home. We went shopping, and then I was so tired I slept most of the day. And, after surfacing for dinner, a full night.
Sunday I woke up, cried, and went to church. Then I was so tired I slept most of the day. Matt went back to training. I scraped myself out of bed and went to study with a friend. Then went home and cried.
Today I woke up and it was like someone shook me awake, handed me my life, and said, "I don't know where the hell you've been for the last six weeks, but you have a test today. And one tomorrow. And makeup work to do. And next week you have three tests, as well as a mock patient to see and a patient interview to do. Get up." And so I have spent the day in a spasm of anxiety-driven energy. I'm grateful because it let me do things, but this is also just a different kind of wrong, albeit one I have more experience with.
Depression is insidious and poisonous. Anxiety is like trying to tame a beast - it has energy, it fights you. Which means you can fight it. Fighting depression, it has seemed these last weeks, is like fighting quicksand. The phrase doesn't even make sense to me. You push, it gives, you get sucked in deeper. I don't know how to deal with that.
But at least after today I understand why they say anxiety and depression are two sides of the same coin. At least this will make me a better doctor...?
Hang in there, Zoe! I had some pretty dark times when I was in full-hormonal post-partum swing, suffering with mastitis, having trouble breastfeeding, constantly sleep-deprived and having to study physio when all I wanted to do was lay around and be pampered. It's rough!
ReplyDeleteKeep your chin up, you've MADE IT this far, you can make it the end of second year ^_^. We're almost halfway to being MD's (!).