The highs are high, and I'm not talking about blood sugars here, at least not yet. When I'm happy, I'm fine. I had a great job interview last week, and I was living off the high of that for a day and a half. However, I know it's really going to hurt if it doesn't come through. I've been doing okay for the past couple of days, for the most part, but I really dread the lows. When I get sad lately, it's not pretty. At least not for me, anyway. It's the urge to hide under the covers until Matt comes home from school to tell me everything will be okay, and the hour or so it will take after that for me to believe him.
It's the acidic thoughts that keep telling me that maybe I'm not as smart/pretty/creative/responsible as I think I am. When I do something wrong, I beat myself up over it these days.
I know this isn't who I am.
I think my other d-companion is returning for me. As if diabetes isn't enough, along comes depression. Again. I haven't really been able to write because the motivation just isn't there, and that's scary to me. Writing is my passion. I also love reading, and I haven't been able to latch on to a good book for more than 5 pages at a time in months. I have the time, I just can't seem to get my brain to be still long enough to involve myself in those 30-pages-at-a-time sittings that used to happen constantly.
I'm off to see one of my endo's CNPs today. Maybe she can prescribe something. Maybe she can send me to someone who can help. I know how I've been feeling has affected how I've been taking care of myself lately. I've missed boluses for meals; I've been avoiding checking my blood sugars.
I hope I find a sympathetic ear and some answers. I'm tired of beating up on myself. I think I'm starting to bruise.