Depression

I have struggled with depression all my life. As long as I can remember I have always had this profound feeling of sadness and emptiness - a lack of worth and a lack of life. That's not to say that I do not feel happiness, because I do! I experience joy and euphoria just like anybody else. And yet, I struggle...

I can tell you all the signs. That feeling of utter hopelessness. Not caring what you look like. Being excessively hungry or having no interest in food. Sleeping way too much or way too little. Nightmares. Self loathing and neglect. The list goes on for awhile and can be different according to each person.

I can tell you all the things you can do to 'beat' depression. Exercise! Eat healthy foods and drink lots of water. Time your sleep schedule. Take your vitamins. Get a hobby. Spend time with family and friends and avoid isolation. Have safe sex and lots of it. Take medication. This list goes on for awhile too.

Chronic and clinical depression are very real things, despite the many people that wish to discredit you and inform you that you need to just 'get over it' and 'move on'. My favorite is 'stop feeling sorry for yourself.'

Do you experience highs and lows? I do. Some days I'll be just fine and everything is going perfect. My sky is blue. Other days I can barely lift the corner of my lips to form that fake smile. I don't care that my hair is dirty, I just pin it up so I don't have to look at it. I either starve myself or binge eat. I avoid eye contact, don't start conversations and just generally am 10x more sarcastic than usual. None of my clothes fit right because I am so disgustingly overweight and I hate myself. I stop sleeping and when I do, I have the most horrific nightmares you could imagine. Actually, you couldn't imagine because I don't even know how my brain creates the monsters that it does.

Each time my low points get worse. They last longer and are more intense.

At this time, I have reached a low point. A really low point. It was set off a few days ago. My anxiety is at it's max and it's hard to type with how my hands shake. I fight every morning to get up and start the day after a bloody nightmare wakes me. My latest nighmare was so horrible that in my dream I was aware I was dreaming and was screaming for someone to please wake me up.

And I guess that's pretty much how I feel when I am depressed. I want someone to come and wake me up because I feel so distant and out of control.

I refuse to take any meds. So far in my journey, I find a way to pull myself out. I fight it! I refuse to let it win.

I can't change the fact that it's here.

But I can change how it controls me.

My fiance is understanding. He knows when I reach my points. He gently assures me that it's going to be ok. He never prods. He never tip toes either - at least not that I notice. He carries on life and makes me participate. He has long conversations with me even though I don't respond. He says he knows that if he keeps talking I'll eventually answer. He reasons with me when I start my self hating. He explains away my nightmares until they seem like a little rain cloud instead of a devastating storm.

When I reach this point, I hurt really bad. Everything that haunts me is right there in my ear, reminding me.

I did get therapy once, a long time ago. To cope with the trauma, my therapist taught me to envision a room with walls covered in tiny cubbie-holes. In each cubbie-hole lived a little shoebox and in each shoebox I had put a either  a stressor, a memory, or a fear. At the end of the room, there is a giant padlocked door. In that room, all my darkest secrets and memories live. Everything is organized and I have complete control over what I allow out of the box.

When I hit my low point, it's like all my boxes got upset by an earthquake and they litter the floor of the room - all mixed up. Everything is in an uproar and nothing is in my control. Box by box, I have to put everything away and in doing so, I relive them all.

It is such a relief to have the boxes all organized again. To feel in control. Sometimes, though, I dwell too long on one box and that is what makes the low point last even longer. I'm still learning to let go, still learning how to silence the festering wounds.

I recognize that I am depressed and that helps me fight it. During my low points, I know what I am more susceptible to - self harm being the largest thing. So I am careful and I do my best to avoid opening that box. It's a place I'm not willing to go to again.

If you are depressed, I want you to know that it's ok. It's your normal even if no one else understands. You don't need to be ashamed or feel like a freak. You can fight it too. Everyone copes differently. Find your different. It's up to you to define depression. Don't let depression define you.

And if you aren't depressed but you know someone who is, be compassionate. Be caring. Be willing to listen. Offer to be a friend or companion. Listen.

Please just listen. 

In the midst of my lows, I know I have made it out before. I know there is an end, I'm not stupid. It's the path to getting to the end that hurts.

I've got to put my boxes away. Let them collect dust. Let them become forgotten.

I encourage you to put your boxes away, too.

Above all, share yourself with someone. You might save a life.

You will definitely save yourself.

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline:

1 (800) 273-8255

Dealing with Depression: 

http://www.helpguide.org/articles/depression/dealing-with-depression.htm

May the Frets be with you.