The shit was coming up to my chin. It wouldn't be long before I'd drown in it, I thought.

Self evaluation isn't all it's cracked up to be. Being your own shrink has as much success as being your own lawyer. You're a fool if you think you have the right perspective to judge your bearings. You just aren't capable. Like Schrödinger's kitteh!

My shrink is concerned about me. How do I know? She called back the next day, asking me how I was doing. Part of me believes that she was hoping Mark answered, hoping to get the straight dope on what's doing.

I walked into her office last week not knowing what to talk about. My affect has been rather low. I have just the exact amount of energy necessary to get through the day, and no more. On the other hand, I didn't (and still don't) feel truly depressed. And the doc surprised the hell out of me. She insisted that I wasn't depressed. She's convinced me it is something a bit more pernicious.

How's this for an explanation:
When a person is depressed, ALL of their synapses are short on neurotransmitters. ALL systems are down. SHIELDS UP! Doctors prescribe your typical neurotransmitter re-uptake inhibitors to boost up every every synaptic bridge.

But what do you do when only some of them are hosed? What do you do when your overall mood appears to be low, but your cognitive abilities are razor sharp? What do you do when you actually have minimal drive, and accompanying energy, to make it through the day? What do you do when you are sleeping well at night?

Nothing medical is what you do.

No change in my Effexor or Trazodone levels.


Why?

Because a soldier in the field isn't depressed. Because a reasonably well treated prisoner of war isn't necessarily depressed. Because this is their reality for the time being.

Because an overworked mom of three with sincere and real concerns for the health of her husband is enough to make her question her own mental state, but not enough to make her stay in bed all day. Because being depressed and functional are mutually exclusive.

The human mind has ways of dealing under duress. According to my doc, I'm under duress. The mind puts on blinders so as to keep focus on survival. I can attest to this. The brain/mind lowers response to the abusive/intrusive/punishing input so that the rest of you keeps moving forward and living.

Am I at war? Am I getting Stockholm syndrome? Am I being physically or mentally attacked by anyone? No. I am not.

Have I got a shitload of life to deal with right now? Yes. Do I need to have a high affect and a jovial profile or a sharp sense of humor right now? No, I do not need it. Do I need to make sure my kids are clean, fed and well dressed? You betcha. Do I worry about every little aspect of Mark's health and recovery? No, I cannot. I'd drive myself mad and in that madness I'd no longer function.

So the shit is up to my chin.

But given my current situation, maybe I ought to remember that I'm on my knees in the cesspool, and I just gotta get up on my feet. I'm not going to drown in it unless I forget my life right now is a non-typical situation.

And this is why you need a professional to tell you what the hell is going on. Additionally, this is why you can't ever evaluate your own situation, because your perspective is skewed. Call it denial, call it protecting my sanity, call it blinders, but it's keeping me moving forward to the day when Mark's health is no longer the first topic of discussion, the fore of our thoughts, or the purpose of every day.