But I think I’ll miss this one this year

As Christmas rapidly approaches, I find myself slipping further and further into a state of depression/I-don’t-care-ness. This is usually my favorite time of the year (except for my birthday, of course). This year has been tough, though.

Today, I just started Wellbutrin (XL, for extra-large depression?), after being off of Prozac for a month. The side-effects with the Prozac were unbearable, and disappeared almost immediately after I stopped taking it. I’ve taken Wellbutrin in the past, and that’s probably the medication I’ve had the best luck with, in the 10+ years of trial-and-error I’ve been through with meds.

I’m crossing my fingers and hoping for the best.

The tree almost fell over on me while I was decorating it. This is just one among the many reasons why I could quite possibly ruin the first Christmas as Eric‘s wife.

My desire to attend any of the 463 parties I’ve been invited to is ZERO. Being invited to events where 20 or more people are going, and I know about 3 of them? Puts me into such a panic. I don’t want to be alone and wall-flowery, but I don’t want to cling like a vine to the few people I do know. I am having a hard time trying to motivate myself to attend any of them. But it’s not my comfort zone. There are few physical locations and situations where I am not in a panic. Being at a house I’ve never been to before, with a bunch of people I don’t know, and feeling like there’s NO ESCAPE…it’s not really conducive to feeling festive.

Please pass me a cup of cheer. Or 5. Or 12.

I have no energy. I have no attention span to listen to even my favorite Holiday songs. My body hurts (partially due to tripping and falling in the alleyway on Saturday). I feel fat and ugly. I can’t get motivated to do much of anything. I don’t know if it’s because I’m so exhausted from moving, because I’m just depressed, because…I don’t know.

I haven’t been completely devoid of holiday spirit, but it comes and goes.

I’ve been full of piss and vinegar lately. I’m crabby and I don’t have a hell of a lot of patience.

I want to cry. I feel so trapped in this feeling, and no way to let it out. No one wants to hear this bullshit. Especially not during the holidays.

I need a Christmas miracle of sorts.

About meredithelaine

forty-something. jersey girl in texas via california.
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