Depression

I realize I talk a lot about my depression in many of my blogs.  I also realize for those who have never experienced it, or were easily helped by meds, counseling, etc, I leave myself open to criticism and judgment.

If you've never experienced depression, imagine a deep, dark hole.  An abyss.  And, there's no way out.  No ladder, no rope, no elevator, stairs, hands reaching down to pull you out.  Imagine the claustrophobia, the anxiety, the fear and utter despair it could cause.  Imagine the body pain and fatigue your suffer from trying to climb out of that hole using only your fingertips.  Imagine all the people ringed around the top of that hole, telling you how easy it is to climb out--if only you wanted to, if only you really tried, if only you would atone for some long forgotten sin for which God is surely punishing you.  They are telling you to just snap out of it, they were sad once and got over it.  They are telling you to just be happy, that life in that hole isn't so bad.  You should just exercise more, get out of bed earlier, go to bed earlier, sleep less, sleep more, eat this, stop eating that, have sex more often, smile more, wear make up and dress better.  Imagine the self doubt that creeps in when you begin to wonder if maybe they're right, maybe it really is that easy, and you're the one who is making it so difficult.  Imagine retreating further into that hole because of their ridicule, their judgement, wondering what is wrong with me, why can't I be more like them?

Imagine the things that are supposed to help you out of that hole, namely, the meds, and all of their own individual problems.  What's an extra 45 pounds from the side effects when you already can't stand how you look, when that contributes to your self esteem issues? The palsy that makes your handwriting illegible isn't so bad!  The increased, draining exhaustion just needs to be ignored!  They come with their own side effects, sometimes adding to the depression, sometimes increasing suicidal thoughts, and other behaviors. Imagine riding the roller coaster of different meds, different combinations, different dosages.  Your doctor claims to know better, telling you to give it another few weeks to work, then cutting out on your already too short appointment before you can say that while he thinks he knows better, you know your body better and it's just not working.  Imagine finding relief in a medication that is $100/more month, your friends and family telling you there is no price on your sanity.... And then you're right back at square one when that medicine also stops working.  Imagine realizing you have the run the gamut of every medication and combination, including anti-psychotics, on the market, only to realize none of them really do the trick.

Now, understand that your imagination has nothing on the reality of it.

I am not just sad.  I am not lazy.  I am not making up illnesses for attention.  This is not simply a "rough patch."  There was not one single event that caused this, that I need to just get over.  And yes, while I do sin, this is not God's punishment for not repenting, or His punishment for anything else, for that matter.  There is no miraculous healing that I am unwilling to accept. I am not weak in my faith because I need to rely on meds; they do not mean I've given up on God. I have not done anything to 'deserve' this.  I do not like being stuck here, I do not get off on wallowing in my own proverbial filth and misery.  Having more material things will not make me happy; neither will moving, getting a job, having another baby, divorcing my family, or any other life altering event.  Finding a hobby, spending more time with others less fortunate than myself, or getting a job will not solve my depression.  In fact, in some cases, it could make things worse.

Depression is a beast.  It is Satan and every other evil thing rolled into one giant ogre.  Depression distorts life, distorts reality.  It does awful things, causes terrible thoughts, and even worse actions.  It can cause emotions, thoughts, feelings, actions, insomnia and other symptoms that make you question your sanity, if the term mental illness hasn't already.  It causes isolation, despair, hostility, paranoia, despondency, and emotional pain so deep it becomes physical.  It causes fear, guilt, self loathing, self doubt and feelings of such inadequacy that you are crippled by it.  I have been suicidal, prescription drug dependent, hospitalized, medicated, angry and rage-filled, despondent and absent from life.  I often ride a roller coaster of emotions, taking my family along for that ride, whether they want to join me or not.  My kids are war-weary, seeking refuge, never knowing what will set me off (truthfully, I don't either, half the time), waiting for the other shoe to drop on a good day. True depression is debilitating, often all-or-nothing.  It does not simply affect me, but all of those I come in contact with.  I cannot simply snap out of it, no matter how much I want to.  There are days that just showering and being able to take care of my family are almost too much, while other days I can fly through a gazillion errands while singlehandedly preparing three meals.  Some days I am too exhausted to smile, other days I know the seemingly simple effort just might have a chance at tricking my brain, i.e., fake it until you make it.

Depression prevents me from accepting compliments, and from believing my husband when he tells me I'm beautiful.  It prevents me from believing God finds me worthy, and causes me to question my faith and beliefs.  After all, the bible tells us to love others as we love ourselves...  Well, what happens when you don't love yourself?

This is part of who I am.  There is a chemical imbalance in my brain that causes this.  That is not an excuse, it is biology.  It becomes an excuse when I choose to do nothing about it, when I choose to use it as a reason to not participate in life, when I choose to wallow in self pity.  I cannot change the fact that I have depression, but I can choose what I do with it, and what I do about it. I did not ask for this, I would not wish this on anyone.  I often pray it will just go away.  I know there are events that can make it worse, so I do my best to either confront them head on and tell myself it will not send me spiraling, or yes, I even avoid them.  I know there are seasons to my depression, and I do what I can to prepare myself for them, knowing the roller coaster is on the downward spin.  It's about making sure I'm healthy enough to take care of my family.  It's about not letting my depression control me and take over my life.

This is acceptance.  I treat my depression and anxiety.  I have found hope, grace and acceptance in the love of my Father, even when I find myself feeling unworthy of it.  I am grateful for a husband who does his best to take it in stride, no matter how nasty I get.  I've learned the difference between what is really happening in life, compared to what my depression does to distort reality, and I've learned how to cope with that.  I've learned to step back and say to myself, "This is my depression talking." Depression has taught me that healing comes in many different forms.  Often, acceptance is the healing many of us seek.  This is, unfortunately, my reality.  I cannot simply wake up one morning and say "I'm going to be happy forever from this point on!"  No.  But what I can do, is strive for somewhat normal--my normal, not your normal.  This is my normal, and in that acceptance, this is my healing.  I can't choose to be eternally happy, but I can choose how I live with my depression.  There are times I have little control over it, but when I do, I need to choose to make it a good day.

Depression has made me brave.  It has given me the power to speak up and say, "Hey!  This is reality for millions of us.  Instead of judging us, help us!"  I've found relief and comfort among friends who have been brave enough to be as transparent and honest as I am.  I am no longer ashamed of depression and anxiety.  I am no longer as afraid of it as I used to be.  I am no longer embarrassed.  Somewhere in this mess, is a reason for it all.

This is me.  This is who I am.