elephant stampede at 3:00 am

(disclaimer: if you are offended by the use of profanity, or think that a Christian girl like me is doomed to hell by swearing, you may not want to read this blog entry. it contains raw emotion, as i am in the middle of dealing with the dog.)

earlier today i had to swallow my pride, yet again, and admit to myself that i was in trouble. the dog was back. shit.

for the past few days i've felt "off". i admitted this to phyllis saturday evening when i knocked on her door at 9:00 pm. as i've previously stated, when this disease comes calling for no apparent reason, it not only pisses me off, but it literally scares the hell out of me. so after talking to leo this morning, and with his encouragement, i called my doc.

i love my doc.

dr. k. agreed to see me at the end of the day, after all of his patients were gone. his nurse escorted me into an exam room, then sweetly asked, "so jodi, how's your anxiety?" and i started to cry. uncontrollably. my face completely awash in tears. she was speechless, and so was i.

my doc gets me. when i swear and rant and rage against this disease, he lets me. he validates every feeling i have and reminds me that i am not crazy. he also gently reminds me that although cognitively and intellectually i understand the chemical process affecting me, that does not mean i am immune to feeling what i am feeling.

last night, around 2:30, i awoke to such intense panic, i thought seriously about putting on my shoes and walking out the door. i had to get away...away from house...away from my mind...away from this body. the maddening thing about clinical depression is that you are literally stuck. there is no escape. there is no where to run to...no where to hide...you want to claw your way out of your own skin. but you can't.

my doc talked to me about my insistence on trying to control this thing...this thing that can be tamed but never fully controlled. we talked about my reticence in acknowledging this beast of a dog when he chooses to reappear.

"jodi, it's better to acknowledge the presence of the elephant in the room, than to continue to pretend it's not there. the pretending won't make it go away any faster". amen, doc k. last night wasn't just the appearance of an elephant...it was a fucking elephant stampede.

there is nothing lonelier or more desolate or move devastatingly hopeless than facing this disease in the middle of the night. why didn't i call anyone? i know that many of you reading this will ask me that question. bottom line: i don't want to bother you. you all have to get up and go to work. i also told dr. k. that i didn't want to call anyone at 3:00 am because that would be like admitting defeat...admitting that the dog had kicked my ass and won. he said it would mean just the opposite, that it would mean i was being proactive in getting better. i conceded him that point.

so hear i am, nervously facing the night. dr. k. gave me two homework assingments: first, i am not to fight with the dog; just realize that for right now, it's here and that it will eventually go away. secondly, i have to share my struggle with a friend. i spent the evening with my sister who knows, and now i've told all of you. so that part of my assignment is finished.

as far as not fighting with the dog goes ~ hmmm. i'm going to have to work really hard on that one...