Sunday, June 7, 2015

My own personal Bell Jar

Depression sucks.  I'm not talking about the occasional blues or feeling sad because the sun hasn't been out lately, but depression, that soul sucking, life draining Dementor who lives inside some of us.    There is a secret for you, I've suffered for years with major depression.  I'm far from alone, according to the Internet there are 16 million adults who suffer with depression.

“The trouble was, I had been inadequate all along, I simply hadn't thought about it.” 

Some people face situational depression, something horrid and debilitating impacts their life and with the help of a therapist, God and/or pharmaceuticals they get through it and are free on the other side, wiser and prescription free.  For some of us though it's much more of a permanent condition, major depressive disorders impact us very differently and are a part of our daily lives. 

"I didn't know why I was going to cry, but I knew that if anybody spoke to me or looked at me too closely the tears would fly out of my eyes and the sobs would fly out of the throat and I'd cry for a week.” 

Essentially our brains are off, through a combination of genetics, environment and psychological factors my brain doesn't function like everyone elses.  Popular convention (and the Internet) says that those of us who suffer for the long term with depression don't have enough serotonin receptors in our brains so we don't function normally.  Serotonin has been described as "oil" for the brain. Imagine not replacing the oil in your car, you'd damage the engine, over heat and essentially stop the car.  Similar things happen with a lack of serotonin.  Your mind will race, sleep is off, you have no patience, no energy, sex is repellent and then the wonderful negative scripts start about how the world would be better without you.  It's a viscous cycle. 

“I felt very still and empty, the way the eye of a tornado must feel, moving dully along in the middle of the surrounding hullabaloo.” 

I was diagnosed with depression shortly after my divorce, hoping it was situational and I'd be able to go off the Prozac very quickly.  That was 16 years ago and I've cycled on and off almost every offering from Big Pharma because, unlike some people, the anti-depressant stops working for me between 3-5 years after I take it and I'm thrown back down the well.  Cycling on and off of the medications can be a long process.  Realizing that they've stopped working takes about 6-8 weeks for me to admit it, then it's 2-3 weeks coming off one pill and another 2-3 weeks to see if the new one works.  If it doesn't work then there is another 2-3 weeks with a new pill until the right dosage is found. 

I can hear people in my head telling me to stop being so melodramatic, this is personal, and I should keep it that way, cry on the inside, smile on the outside.  Aren't you being too dramatic? You have a great life, a great home, a job you are good at, wonderful friends and family-what do you have to be sad about. It's deeper than sad, it's bone crushing.  And if I don't share my story then I can't help anyone else who may not know what's wrong.

“I was supposed to be having the time of my life.” 

So to me depression feels like a fog wrapped around me and something I drag behind me weighing me down, every step heavy through mud. Everything is muted.  All of the literature says that depression interferes with your life, you cannot focus, you cannot think, you don't care about anything. All of this not caring leads to exhaustion and sleeping. I can testify, that is all true. Life becomes exhausting, just existing is overwhelming.  I have mentally written hundreds of suicide notes. I've plotted out pills, opening a vein, wrecking my car or jumping off a building.   Normal people don't do that, normal people don't try and figure out how to end their lives without ruining their friends and family.  These thoughts are always click clacking around in my brain and usually are quickly dismissed. Except when I’m trapped in the fog, they take on weight and substance.  The words have meaning and broken brain or not they have to be talked about.
  
But when it came right down to it, the skin of my wrist looked so white and defenseless that I couldn't do it. It was as if what I wanted to kill wasn't in that skin or the thin blue pulse that jumped under my thumb, but somewhere else, deeper, more secret, and a whole lot harder to get.” 

Let me say, I know this is a chemical imbalance and has nothing to do with anything other than what I call my broken brain. But the feelings are still very real, the pain exists and the hopelessness weighs down like an elephant on your chest.
  
“I couldn’t see the point of getting up. I had nothing to look forward to.” 

So this time through I am coping in a slightly different way.  I am not sleeping around or over eating or purging or hiding at home. I am talking to my friends.  I am working out. I have cut out sugar. I have asked for help.  Most importantly I have a dialog with my doctor to adjust the medications quickly.  I'm on week 5 of new meds. The first didn't work so we are on day 3 of the new one.  

Now the work that you need to do. If any of this resonates you, especially if you’ve been dealing with it for a long time, seek help. Call your doctor, call a friend, tell someone you are hurting.  I promise that although the process is painful, there is light at the end of the tunnel.  If you have someone in your life who is depressed, withdrawn and changed don't just tell them to "cheer up" or that "the grass is greener on the other side" or whatever platitude seems applicable, this is so much bigger than a hot bath and a glass of wine.  If you don't know where to turn, there are a many online resources to get you started.  

http://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org
http://www.nimh.nih.gov/health/topics/depression/index.shtml
http://www.psychiatry.org/mental-health


But above all we have hope, this doesn’t have to be forever.  The sun will shine again, the birds will sing and somehow we can come through this.

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