Depression

I've written several posts on my blog about depression and the effects it has on me. There are a ton more in the drafts that I never published. So I thought I'd post an update. 

For some reason I don't like talking about this. It's one thing to speak vaguely of it, it's another to be personal. But for the sake of anyone reading this who might have similar problems, I have to share.

A couple of months ago, my depression became bad enough that it scared me. I spoke with a dear friend who talked me into seeing the doctor. It was one of the hardest things I've ever done. I still don't know why, but it was.

My doctor is great and was understanding and compassionate. She worked with me and put me on some medication to get me back to normal again. Long story short - my allergy medicine was the main culprit and now that I've quit taking all allergy meds, the medicine has been able to get me back to my normal self again. I haven't felt this good or normal in over 5 years. I know, based on my past, that I will probably always deal with depression. But now I can handle it, and I have help.

Don't be afraid to ask for help. Don't be afraid to try something new if the old isn't working. And check random weird things that might explain why you suddenly feel different. Even allergy medicine can cause depression in some people.

Black fog

It's eating away at me, this black fog. Today it feels like cold icy fingers are trying to strangle me. I've spent the whole day close to tears. My energy is gone and I can't make myself do anything. The house is a mess and I don't care enough or can't find the energy to do anything about it. 

I know the kids can feel my distance and listlessness and it's breaking my heart. But how am I supposed to find my way out? I've asked for help. But no one knows how to help. I don't want medicine. These black fingers don't always chock me. Just sometimes. This time it's been longer than normal though and that does scare me.

Today I'm down. I'm not sad. I realize how blessed I am. I realize what an amazing life I have. I was even able to laugh when my son did something silly on the slide. But it felt hollow and not quite right. I'm just getting darker and more cloudy. I can't think correctly.

I'm not sure who to talk to now. If you haven't been in this place, it's hard to picture it. So unless I can find a doctor who has had depression before, I will just be talking to someone who not only can't help, but wants to put me on medicine so they can move on to the next patient.

Black Dog

I read an article today about Winston Churchill and his black dog. Apparently Mr. Churchill suffered from depression. He called it his black dog.

I can't say as I've ever named mine. I try to think as little about it as possible. Thinking about it seems to be a trigger that makes it worse. I've lived with this long enough that I can spot most of my triggers. And if spotted quickly enough I can put in a marathon of work and often lesson or eradicate most of it. But I haven't named it. I don't want to. If I name it, it becomes tangible and real. I don't want it to be real. I want it to cease to exist.

But today I tried everything. Nothing was working. I should have known it was coming. I was tired and achy last week. Every joint and muscle in my body hurt. And I racked my brain trying to remember what I'd done to get so sore. Nothing. I could name a ton of things that might make me slightly sore in one area. But all over? Nothing. So why is it that I can be so completely blindsided by something that has happened before? Denial?

 

Taken from here.

I'm not sad. I'm depressed. There is a difference. But how do you describe this to someone who doesn't understand? They'll never get it unless they also have depression. And call me crazy, but I'd rather battle this alone than see someone I love understand from experience. Sometimes I worry about how others perceive me. Do they think I'm being rude because I don't want to participate? Are they hurt when I'm unable to confide in them? Do they notice when I'm quieter and withdrawn? Do they feel frustrated when I can't articulate how or why I'm depressed?

It's lonely. But I think I'm okay with that. I'll stay here in my foggy bubble. Because when I come out, I'll care again. And I'll love you enough to never, ever wish this for you.

Depression*

It settles down on top of my prone form like a heavy winter quilt. The light is on, but I can't see it through the thick fabric. The voices of my friends and family are muted and distant. 

I feel heavy and numb. My muscles begin to ache from the constant weight and I can't make my limbs move. The lethargy is spreading to my brain as well.

I know you are out there, but I just can't respond. I'm slowly suffocating and no one notices because the quilt is invisible to everyone, but me.

Every once in a while I feel the weight lift and I realize I can still breath. I might even muster a laugh or a smile. But as the quilt slowly drifts down to settle on me again, I cry. The despair seems even worse now that I've had a small reprieve. 

It's dark in here and I'm tired.

It's heavy, so very heavy!

*Please give an extra smile to everyone you meet.

You never know what they are dealing with.

Your smile may be the only breath they get today.