Thank you all for your comments, which made me feel so much less alone. I especially appreciated when Polly mentioned wondering if what she was feeling were depression, but recognizing that it doesn’t feel the same as depression has felt in the past. I’ve also been going around in circles wondering if what I’m feeling is depression, or the precursor to it, but not feeling sure because this feeling does seem different, even if some aspects of it are familiar.
I have to admit, I’m terrified of facing depression again. Those years were horrible for me and I don’t ever want to go back there. I’ve actually been impressed with my general ability to keep the terror at bay – to just take it one day at a time and not let myself spin out into a panic about falling into a depression that I can’t get myself out of. But I can feel that talking myself down takes mental energy, energy that I don’t really have. Ironically, the fear of depression is another weight that might eventually push me into the hole that is depression.
And it’s true that there are all sorts of very understandable reasons why I feel this way. Why we all feel this way. And all of them are outside of our control. The only thing we have control over is how we respond, but even that feels outside of my control some days. Like I want so badly to just get over it and revel in what I do have. But I can’t.
I’ve been having… butt pain? That seems such a stupid way to say it but it’s all I got. My right glute has been causing me something between discomfort and agony a lot of the time. Standing doesn’t bother it so much, but sitting does and driving is excruciating. I’ve come to dread the hour plus I spend in my car every day.
I went to the chiropractor to see if she could help. I actually ended up going three times in one week, because two days after the first visit I pulled something in my left shoulder reaching up to lather my hair in the shower (probably because my body was so messed up from standing and sitting weirdly to accommodate my right glute). By my third visit in seven days I was despondent. Nothing was helping. It had been almost three weeks and the pain wasn’t going away. I didn’t know what had caused it initially and I couldn’t figure out how to make it better. My chiropractor thought a tight psoas muscle was causing the pain, but none of the psoas stretches I tried were providing any relief. I was freaking out that this pain that I couldn’t explain would never go away.
I was almost crying on her table when she said, “I get it. You feel like you’re doing everything right – you’re coming to the chiropractor, you’re dialing down your workouts, you’re stretching every day – and it’s not getting better. You’re used to getting results, and in this case, they just aren’t coming at the speed you’re expecting.”
And she was so right. I was doing everything I thought I should be doing. I was TAKING THIS SHIT SERIOUSLY. I was doing yoga videos instead of my weight lifting. I was running very reduced miles (and walking frequently), or not running at all. I was stretching for 20-30 minutes every night. I was spending almost $300 dollars, and three hours, at the chiropractor in one week. I was doing what I needed to do and it wasn’t getting any better.
And yes, later that night I saw the parallels with the pandemic, lining up perfectly. I have taken this public health crisis seriously, I have done everything the expects have asked of me, even when sometimes it didn’t make sense (and later it was revealed that it was grossly unnecessary (::cough:: closing county parks where people run and walk ::cough::). I have followed all the rules, and even maintained a more cautious attitude even when some rules were relaxed. And it hasn’t made a lick of difference. The pandemic still rages on, and our response to it probably won’t change (at least not here in the bright blue Bay Area) for a long, long time.
Honestly, I haven’t felt this beaten down by feelings of, but-I’m-doing-everything-right-and-it’s-still-not-helping! since I was trying to get pregnant. And I’ve been thinking a lot about trying to get pregnant lately because the damn rapid Antigen tests we have at home have me squinting for a second pink line in a way that causes me some serious flashbacks.
Trying, and failing (over and over) to get pregnant, despite TAKING THAT SHIT SERIOUSLY from before I even started, sucked. It was awful, and it made me miserable. The political situation and the pandemic are awful and it’s making me miserable. We’ve been doing this for a long time and it’s hard.
I have more to say, but I had a shit evening – including a fight with my husband and a frustrated cry while washing the dishes – and I’m tired.
Tomorrow is Friday. Maybe after the weekend things will seem better some how.
YES about squinting for a second line bringing back terrible TTC memories. And YES to a lot of the rest (except the part about living somewhere bright blue!). Sending hugs.
Are they certain it is glute not sciatica? Bursitis? Nasty and esp as it hurts when you commute and you MUST commute. Hope it gets better FASTER soon. Might it have to do with accumulated body tension and abuse due to all the stress?
As you can tell I am NOT a doctor but have heard all these things cause pain like you describe.
Spousal arguments when everyone is stressed are simply super common. Hope you both got over and through that.
Hoping for a nice weekend, hoping for a SF walk too.
Hoping all of us manage some stress relief and down time and refreshing care.
Sending support wishes!
1. That’s a very apt parallel though I have nothing to help with any of it.
2. Maybe google piriformis syndrome and piriformis stretches (most of these are going to be pigeon/reclined pigeon type things). And be sure to stretch the healthy side too.
I want to ask if you’ve considered burnout as a possible cause for your current feelings? I’m autistic and autistic burnout looks very very very much like depression and yet it is not the same thing. From the outside, many people can assume I am depressed, but I know that I am not, I am simply burnt out (on a different kind of level to neurotypical burnout). Autistic burnout can take a ridiculously long time to recover from and basically the only recovery strategy that works is giving your nervous system enough time and space to fully regulate back into balance. Sometimes life simply does not provide the opportunity to do this, especially in a seemingly never ending pandemic. Then, you must keep pushing your nervous system beyond what it can take, and push it further again. This inevitably takes its toll on your body and on your mind.
I know you don’t identify as autistic, but that you are ADHD. Since they are both forms of neurodivergence and share a lot of crossover, I think it is worth looking this up. I don’t hear much about ‘ADHD burnout’ but I don’t see why it wouldn’t be a thing, when autistic burnout is.
Discovering the existence of autistic burnout was the final ‘holy shit’ moment for me in putting together all the pieces that allowed me to realise I was autistic. I have since gone on to realise I am also ADHD, and my autism is the P.D.A. flavour. It is a ridiculously difficult combination to have, and my son is both of these things as well. I am almost always either in burnout or on the verge of burnout, and what you are talking about here is really resonating with me.
Knowing that burnout is the cause of these feelings for me, is helpful. I don’t have to spend any time or energy questioning or decision making about the possible causes and remediations. I know that what I can do about it most of the time is limited, and so I do what I can and accept what I can’t (even though I don’t have to like it!). I spend my small amount of left over energy prioritising making space in my schedule to do nothing but rest, lower demands where I can, set hard and clear boundaries about what I am willing to give to other people and I am unapologetic about putting these needs of mine first. I have worked on decreasing my discomfort around asking for help and support. (Thanks, Brene Brown!)
It has been five years now, since my autism diagnosis, and not quite one since the ADHD. Six months ago I began work with a somatic trauma therapist to heal my nervous system. It’s intense work and it feels slow but there is definite progress. There is no magic wand or easy fix and I don’t personally believe that this is something one can ‘think’ their way out of. I did try for a very long time (weekly psychotherapy during the ten years of recurrent miscarriage, for example) and of course I learnt much from those sessions and time spent understanding yourself is never wasted. But ultimately, trauma is held in the body, and no amount of left brain understanding the situation is going to rewire a damaged nervous system.
I know exactly what you mean when you speak about taking the shit seriously and doing your best and still coming up with nothing. It’s demoralising. It’s exhausting. I hear you. I understand the drive to figure out what is underneath it all, determining the ‘cause’, so that you can then have some control over doing things differently in order to get the response and outcomes you would like. That all makes perfect sense to me.
So I offer you the idea of ‘autistic burnout’, which was the answer to my questioning in a similar situation, in case this could be of any use to you in yours.
Wishing you all the very best in your search for answers that make sense to you.