From my FB note:
There has been an impressive outpouring of opinion and discussion on mental illness and depression these past few days. I'm truly floored by how much Robin William's passing has thrust the conversation into the spotlight. I've found myself talking more frankly about depression with people than I ever have in the past.
So, here's the thing I'm depressed. I was diagnosed with clinical depression and anxiety disorder about 20 years ago. It hasn't gone away, it's part of who I am. Some days I function better than others, but it hasn't and likely won't ever 'go away'. If you didn't know I was depressed, that's ok. I frankly didn't want you to. Part of my depression includes not wanting to bother YOU with it. I still don't want to bother you with it. I do want people to understand though, that looks can be deceiving. Mental illness is not one of those things you can assume doesn't exist for a person simply because they are smiling in photos, have a family, have a job, have friends, etc. However, I do want my friends and family to know that if you're silently suffering that you are not alone and that I'm now at a point where I will and can talk about this.
I would love for my depression to go away. I'm a very logical individual and depression isn't logical; it isn't rational. Depression honestly pisses me off at least once a day because it doesn't conform to logic. I take a moment daily to tell myself that I have a great family and friends, I have a good job, I'm able to pay my bills, I have a nice home, I have a cat who needs me (yes--sometimes reminding myself that the cat needs me is necessary). My depression is a constant nagging voice in my head that will tell me otherwise ALL DAY LONG. It interjects when I've done something great to tell me that it wasn't actually that wonderful. It nudges me towards thoughts like, "Gosh, if that semi had just taken that turn a little wider so that the driver's side of my car was hit this would be a perfect time to go since no one else is in the car with me." These are normal thoughts for me. This is what functioning looks like in my daily life--reminders of logically why I should be happy and constant internal voices telling me I'm wrong and that the world would be better off if I weren't here. I hold on to my wishlist of things I want to do and see like my children growing up and having children of their own, a trip to the 'Worrall Festival' overseas, seeing the Pyramids in person, and other items that change depending on the day. That wishlist reminds me that I want to be here and on functioning days is enough to help me fight back.
I've named that negative little voice in my head, perhaps it makes me sound crazier to have done so but it's helped me personally cope with it. By naming 'He Who Cannot Be Named' -- yes, I've named my depression 'Voldemort' muwhahah!-- I feel like I can segment it from myself and fight back. It's easier for me to fight against a separate entity than to fight myself. When you're depressed, you become desperate to feel better. I find ways to cope, to function, to make it through the day so no one notices anything is wrong. I don't want extra attention, I don't want sympathy, I don't want to be anything other than a 'normal' person who feels unadulterated happiness from time to time without a shadow casting over those moments.
Depression isn't something you can wish away with positive thinking. I read recently that 'Sadness' and 'Depression' are two very different things and I think that sums it up well. Sad days for me are when something situational happens; when my cat passed away I was incredibly sad. I cried, I went through photos and reminisced about things she'd done, I got misty when I thought I could feel her laying on my feet in my bed. I still feel sad sometimes when I miss her, but for the most part the overwhelming sadness at her death has gone away. The depression never goes away. It's here all the time. It's magnified sometimes when I'm sad, but it's a different feeling entirely. I tend to personally shove that down as far as I can into an emotional well, but once in a while that well gets full and the littlest, stupidest thing can set me off. I remember dropping a pencil once in the kitchen and it was that small thing that sent the well overflowing and I broke down and sat on the floor sobbing for a long while. Then the well for me is empty again and I go back about shoving things down until the next time. Secretly I'll watch sappy romantic comedies from time to time to give myself an excuse to empty the well a bit and cry.
Depression makes me feel weak. I hate feeling weak. I hate asking for help and will avoid it all costs. I don't want hugs--please, please don't hug me; I have this huge bubble and really am not a hugger unless you are my child. I don't want to be asked constantly how I'm doing, but I do appreciate that you care. If you notice me spiraling, please don't be scared to tell me 'Hey, I notice something is up and you've been quiet. Want to go grab lunch?' I may decline the offer, but that little reminder that I would be missed if I went away could be enough to push me up to functioning in that moment.
Treatment for depression varies. My personal journey has included multiple medications with all kinds of side effects. Depression is like a lot of other diseases; treatments are not the same for everyone--people experience depression differently, and their treatment needs may be different. Doctors will tell you that for a lot of mental illnesses and neurological disorders treatment is more art than science; it's finding the right combination for an individual. My initial large weight gain back in college was a side effect of one of the first medications I was prescribed. It's included group therapy, individual therapy, visits to a psychiatrist and a visit to the locked ward at North Memorial when one of those medications had the side effect that 'increases thoughts of suicide'. My depression is currently 'under control' and 'managed' if you were to look at my medical charts. This means, I function. It does NOT mean I am not depressed. It means that the current method of treating my depression makes it so that most days I get through. I make it to work, I get things done at home and I don't give up.
Please don't tell me that because I'm functioning, I should no longer need medications . Depression is a disease. It does not go away because the medications are helping me function; it would be like telling someone with Epilepsy to stop taking their medication because the seizures aren't happening. Please don't tell me that I should just think happy thoughts. I am not Wendy and Tinkerbell is not trying to help me fly. Please don't tell me that I'm being selfish because suicidal thoughts cross my mind. I know that leaving my family behind is logically selfish. Telling me this only makes me hear you say, "I'm judging you and condemning you for being an awful person for thinking it." That's not helpful.
I am lucky. I have a wonderful husband and support system that we've worked very hard to put in place. I have a network of doctors I trust and I recognize when I'm going 'down the rabbit hole' and have learned to reach out to the support system even when it's painful to do so in order to get the help I need to be pulled back up to the surface.
So, there you go. This is me. My experiences are my own, but if you are in pain and have depression and want to reach out I'm here. The conversation has started and the door is open.
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