A few of my personal Depression signs.

Are you finding yourself not enjoying things that normally bring you joy? Is your sadness deeper than usual?

Here are a few of my personal signs that the depression side of Bipolar Disorder has arrived for me.

  • Hopelessness: I feel like everything around me is hopeless, everything I do is hopeless, my future is hopeless.
  • Dread/Disinterest: I have this deep down dread of doing anything outside my home. I have no interest in doing things with my friends, no interest in going to gatherings, and no interest in doing things that I normally take part in.
  • Irritability: I am irritated. Different irritation than manic irritation. Everything is bothering me and playing on my last nerve and I usually hold it all in until I end up exploding over something and letting it all bubble to the surface.
  • Sleep: Normally I am sleeping more than normal, but there have been times when I have had the opposite effect and have slept less than normal. More often than not its the sleeping more.
  • Inadequate: I always feel like I am not enough. Not enough of a wife. Not enough of a mother. That I am not doing a good job at anything. I feel insignificant. Like a speck of dust.
  • Anxiety: Worry and anxiety over things I normally wouldn’t worry about.
  • Weight gain: I eat my feelings. Enough said.
  • Deep emotional pain.

Unwell, but you probably knew that

I haven’t been feeling myself for a while. There has been this nagging voice that something is just not right. And no matter how quiet it is or how much I try to completely silence the voice. I can still hear it and it is working itself into a louder and louder sound that is getting harder to ignore.

I am not quite sure what it is exactly that I am feeling. I tend to lean towards the fact that it is probably some sort of depression. But I feel like it is much more than that.

No signs of mania or even hypomania. I just feel emotional, sensitive, down, and I feel taken for granted. I feel hopeless, and tired, emotionally tired, my soul is tired. And I wonder so much if there is even any room for me. There is not enough space for me to peacefully occupy. (I am NOT suicidal)

I am sleeping, might be some weird hours, but there is sleep. I am having some anxiety and some sense of dread.

I feel like there is something coming towards me at full force but I just cannot figure out what it is, or care enough to step out of its way, that I am insignificant enough and don’t matter enough to even step to the side so the collision doesn’t happen.

I know that all these signs point to something. They tell me that something is wrong. This is not my ‘normal’ thought process.

Bipolar Depression

Entering into a depression can be particularly scary for someone who suffers from bipolar disorder. I know it is part of my cycle of the disorder. But it is my least favorite part. Not that there is a good part to having bipolar disorder, because there isn’t, unless you want to count my mania induced writing. Which I tend to love.

So when entering into a depressive state, the first few days are often spent wondering if it is depression or just a bad day. Because after all every ‘bad day’ is not because of bipolar depression, just like every ‘wonderful’ day is not because of bipolar mania.

So the first day for me is always spent thinking “please do not let this be the beginning of a depressed episode” followed quickly by “I cannot deal with this right now”. While day two is spent a little deeper in the depression pit thinking “Well, crap, this might be depression after all.” And days three onward are spent wondering how the heck I am going to get through this episode and hoping that it will not last long or get too deep.

I spent a lot of my depressed time feeling like I am under water looking up, holding my breath, waiting for the storm to get worst, while hoping and wishing that the storm passes quickly. But knowing that the storm always gets worse before it gets better.

Next my jaded brain decides to overwhelm me with thoughts of despair, the need for extra sleep, low self-esteem, fatigue, self-hatred, and thoughts of self-injury. They become controlling. Dictating my every move, my every action. I sleep when depression tells me, I lay awake when it forbids me to sleep. I eat when it wants me to, I stop eating when it starts telling me why I should not eat.

Depression calls me names. Depression makes it hard for me to look in the mirror because I hate what I see. Depression beats me down and stomps on me, making sure it is hard for me to get back up and fight.

This is the point when I start thinking that depression ‘owns’ me. That it is not an illness that I will get over, but instead something that I will always be a part of, that will always be a part of me. Controlling me and reminding me just how little I am worth, just how much I am ‘owned’.

But you know what? Depression does not ‘own’ me. Depression can only control me for a little while, because then I get stronger, and I fight harder, and I crawl out of the depression ‘pits of despair’.

Depression is temporary. It always leaves at some point. Leaving me alone again, with my regular thoughts, my non-depressive self.

And one more thing,

Depression can kiss my ass.

Depression is slowly lifting.

It is a mixed kinda day.

As you all know I have been suffering in the depression part of my illness for almost 3 weeks now.  On Friday my psychiatrist increased my Wellbutrin. I was taking 150mgs since February of 2013 and he increased it to 300mgs.

I remember going into his office in February of 2013 and asking for an antidepressant to be added back to my medications.  I was taken off of it during a hospital stay in September of 2012 because of mania/mixed episode.  At that time I had been battling depression for a few months and I was beginning to feel the familiar pull under as the depression was getting stronger and my ability to fight it was becoming weaker and weaker. He reluctantly added it back to my medications at that time.

During manias since we have increased the mood stabilizer or added an anti psychotic or a sleeping aid or changed something, but my Wellbutrin has remained constant.  Largely because I do not want to become depressed badly again, I just cannot handle the depression aspect anymore, and I would take the possibility of hypomania over deep depression any day.

So on Friday, May 15th I found myself again sitting in his office, I heard the words come out of my mouth “You need to increase my Wellbutrin, I cannot deal with this any longer, the thoughts of self injury, and the deep dark place that I am being pulled into is getting bad.”  He said yes he could increase it and see how it goes and we talked a bit more about what was going on.

I had been in deeper depressions before, but I was feeling the pull getting so strong that I did not want to get to that place again and I knew I needed some help to try to lift this before it got any worst. I tried on my own, it was not working, in fact it was getting darker and drearier where I was headed and all I could see was depression in a sort of tunneled vision.

Although my anxiety has been bad, which is probably largely due to what we are dealing with when it comes to our daughter, I am happy to report that I can feel the depression beginning to loosen its grip on me today.

It is a start, I feel a cross between a depressed state and feeling fantastic all occupying the same place, and it is good to at least not feel completely depressed.


I have to apologize, I have not been writing much lately, so my posts are less often.

The depression is like a large dark cloud hovering over my head constantly.  Its been a while now, I had a couple of pretty good days in a row so thought I may have been coming out of it.  But unfortunately I am not.  It just seems to be getting darker and darker.

Depression is out to get me.


I feel the gentle tug just under the surface.  I know that it will soon become more of a consistent pull.  At first it is always gentle, slowly pulling me under.  But then it quickly gets more frantic and will tug and tug until I am under the surface looking up. Your grasp will become tighter, and you refuse to let me swim back to the surface.

The claws of your grasp digging in to form a strong hold on me.  I don’t know if I can fight against you.  I know I have tried in the past to fight, only to be pulled under anyway.

I know the darkness will come.  I know it will surround me like some black mist swirling around me and then swallowing me whole. And I know with the darkness comes a whole gift package that I do not want to open.

But I always pull off the shiny black ribbon and tear off the sparkly black paper to find thoughts of self doubt, low self esteem, anxiety, and so much self hate.

They all become jumbled inside my head at the same time, screaming demeaning words at me.  Telling me just how worthless I am.

I feel as if depression is out to get me.


I just want to crawl under a rock and burrow deep into the darkness.  Let the lack of light swallow me whole.  Covering me in shadows, surrounding me in the chaos that are the thoughts inside my mind.

Knowing the doubts and fears that have begun to swallow me whole.

Silent screams that rock my body to its core.  Yet no sound emerges.

The beast that is anxiety rearing its ugly head, surrounding my heart with its icy cold fingers, griping and releasing, griping and releasing.

A sense of urgency rolling in waves through my body.