How Writing Is Therapeutic For My Depression

I’m hoping by writing things out, I might be able to cope with my depression and anxiety a little bit better.

Recently my insomnia has started to get bad again––like really bad. Contemplating suicide bad. I constantly have nightmares and panic attacks that wake me up in a cold terror. Last night every time I fell asleep I had a nightmare. Maybe in the future I will write more about these nightmares but for right now I’d prefer not to.

I’ve always been quite aware of my anxiety and depression, even from a young age I knew how I felt wasn’t normal but, I felt I was already socially awkward enough without putting a name to it. So I hide my problems behind fake smiles and laughter. From the outside I seem like a normal happy person, honestly most people consider me to happy go lucky. What most people don’t see is behind that smile and that laugh, I am in so much pain.

I go weeks with only one, or if I’m lucky up to four hours of sleep a night. I was on Trazadone a sleeping medication to help me sleep/ antidepressant and honestly it’s the best sleep I’ve ever gotten. I prefer not to take medication on a regular basis though, and honestly I can’t afford the prescription without health insurance. My mother is a nurse and offered to help me with getting a prescription but I am stubborn and prefer not to ask for financial help in anyway or handouts, even if it is from family.

When I’m not working I try to avoid social interaction as much as I possibly can, because it is so draining on me physically and emotionally. God bless my husband for tolerating me. He is so much more social than I am and I know that deep down it bothers him that I refuse to spend time with him and his friends and I worry that will be our downfall.

It is just so hard for me. It is not that I don’t like spending time with them, but I over analyze every conversation and every movement I make around them. Honestly the only time I get comfortable around his friends is when I have had a lot to drink. If I get drunk enough to actually have fun with them though, it is almost an inhuman amount that I have to drink in order to be comfortable around everyone.

I stress about things that wouldn’t matter to most people. Like today I accidentally said good night to the cashier at CVS even though I meant good morning. Not a big deal to most people, I work nights my morning is everyone else’s night but that simple slip of the tongue has bothered me all day. It was obviously day time. The sun was bright and shining, the birds were chirping, my husband had just gone to work, I had just taken our dog Rico on a walk, but still I said good night. Simple mistake, I know but it has bothered me all day. How could I be so stupid as to make that mistake?

Once again bless my husband. Some days it seems to me that he was sent by heaven itself to be with me. He puts up with my mood swings, he understands when I am up in the middle of the night cleaning the apartment on my nights off because I can’t sleep, and he has understood when I woke up in a cold sweat screaming when I had another nightmare and has held me close and comforted me. But I don’t think he realizes how much stress and anxiety he causes me also. You see as much as I love him and I love him with all of my heart, and let no one say otherwise. I work harder than him, it is not a bad thing and I would never judge him for it.

Somedays though when he complains about how tired he is, like tonight. I get frustrated and depressed to the point of tears because, I have supported us financially for a long time with rarely a complaint.

It seems though when he gets tired or frustrated that he forgets that I still work nights and still wake up during the day to help out with the company he works for where I can. All the while I still need to take care of the dog, the household chores, and be a dutiful wife. While still hiding my own mental anguish behind a smile and a laugh.

Tonight he caught me on the patio sitting with our Rico, crying. He was angry because he had been waiting for me to get off work since 2 am.He was mad because when I arrived I had knocked on the bedroom window, I just wanted him to know I was home safe from work and was going to have a cigarette before coming in to bed, maybe make something to eat.

I suppose he was right to be mad at me though, he worked hard all day and was very tired. I didn’t realize he was asleep, I just wanted him to know I arrived home safe. He gets grumpy when you wake him up, I am the same way. He just wanted me to come in to the room and sleep.

What he failed to realize is that I was exhausted from work and frustrated about a few other things, he failed to realize I was outside crying because I was so tired of everything. Tired of anxiety, tired of work, tired of trying to take care of everyone, tired of knowing that even if I went to lay in bed I wouldn’t fall asleep even with sleeping pills (It is now 6 am and I still can’t sleep though I took the sleeping pills 2 hours ago), just so tired of life wondering what it would be like to just sleep and never wake up. I would never commit suicide no matter how much I have thought about doing it, and even came close to actually doing it twice. That’s the quitter’s way out and is selfish. No, I rather suffer in my own silence than hurt or cause inconvenience to the ones I love.

I know my own mental anguish is no worse than the many people out there suffering worse fates than mine every day. I know I should be thankful for the things I have, and I thank the lord (or whoever) every day for what he has provided me. I try not to ask for much, I’ve always thought it important to be thankful and humble. I just wish I could sleep without fear of waking up from a panic attack or nightmares, I wish I didn’t always feel so depressed, I wish I didn’t always feel so tired.

Honestly I feel a lot better after writing this, maybe diaries aren’t so stupid after all. I still can’t sleep but I didn’t expect that to change; writing everything down has made me feel a little bit more at peace though. Maybe I’ll make this a daily thing.