Depression Mutated to Anger


This morning I dreamt of someone I dislike, and I was really letting her have it. I was calling her names, and I was recalling past offenses she’d committed against me and my family. I was vicious, and I was eating it up. I was feeding on it.

Needless to say, I did not wake up on the right side of the bed. I’ve drifted between gloom and anger all day. At times, I’ve felt rage.

My therapist tells me that everyone in my dreams is just me. It’s all about my perception of me. So, I was really yelling at myself, and the rage was directed at me.

I can see that. My depression is such today that I can understand self-directed anger. I dislike myself, so I verbally abuse myself. I’ve been doing it inside my head for days. Words of hate and vitriol and vile depictions of myself roll around inside my head.

In front of the mirror, I mouth abusive torrents of vile scorn. It pours out.

What am I winning at today? What have I done to show some level of self-care? I ate wholesome food for dinner. I didn’t eat breakfast or lunch, but I did eat dinner. And I ate some chocolate dipped in peanut butter.

Oh, I took my meds, of course. I’d really be a basket case without those.

I talked to my case worker where I see my psychiatrist and told him what was going on. He knows me well, so the first thing he asked was whether I’d brushed my teeth. This morning I had but not last night. I simply didn’t see the need.

Tonight, I’ll brush my teeth before bed. I may even floss.

Tomorrow, I may make a gratitude list. Maybe.