it’s been quite a journey.
i know how i worked as a computer programmer. i knew what i could do, what my brain could do. I was no star, but I could hold my own. i also know the most critical person in my life, me. stress took its toll and soon i could longer be a programmer.
next, i went into residential repaint as a transitional job, oh so i thought. I knew what i could do, what my brain could do.
next, I started a company in computer consulting. I knew what i could do, what my brain could do. fear killed that, probably mostly the fear of success. my inability to let go of my fear torpedoed me.
then, i entered a depressive cycle from hell. at times I seemed to enter a near vegetative state. i knew what I could do and what my brain could do. most of the time, it only seemed to mis-function. i felt as if I operated on one cylinder, and even then, sometimes i would backfire.
then, after three and a half years of living hell, depression finally loosed its grip on me. my brain started to function about the same amount of time as dysfunction. what a relief. my brain still hadn’t returned to anything close to pre-depression capabilities. I knew what I could do, and I knew what my brain could do.
fast forward some six months. not much has changed in the interim. i know what i can currently do and and what my brain can do. i find my brainiac nowhere near to pre-depressive states. once simple tasks are a challenge, if i can even do them.
that leads to the question, “does it get any better than this?” i know where i am and i know where I have been. the chasm seems deep and wide. it scares the shit out of me that i may never find a way over or around the chasm. what if this <strong>is</strong> as good as it gets?
sometimes it is hard to separate dream from reality. but, i must cling to principle 12 of the <a href=”http://www.nami.org/Template.cfm?Section=NAMI_Connection&Template=/ContentManagement/ContentDisplay.cfm&ContentID=47530″>nami principles</a>, i will never give up hope. dream, realiryperhaps I have just hit a plateau and maybe someday next week, i’ll regain my forward momentum. that’s the hope i cling to. that’s the hope where i gotta hang my hat. fear is an option but it is not <strong>the</strong> best option.
Oh that sucks! I’m so very sorry because I remember feeling very much the same way. It just means there’s more work to do. Maybe your meds need a tweaking. I was a hamster on a wheel for years. Then a rollercoaster up n down over and over. I’m sending you big hugs!!! Also not helping that you just lost your therapist and that’s still a loss. xoxo
Today is as good as it gets…tomorrow it may get better. I understand the frustration here. I used to run a busy treatment facility. I knew what I was doing and I did it well. But today I’m still discovering new limitations and I often feel like a freak. The good news is that I am still able to learn new things and my skills as a blogger have improved. It does get better…but it often feels like complete Hell before it does.