Depression

[morty_baby]

Talking to a fellow lj'er about our mutual battle with depression got me wanting to write about it so if you don't 'get' depression, just pass this entry by

Comments

[myskat]

I'm right there with you. I don't get to have any of the peaks, they never come. Just the grey and dark days and then I begin to see the color again. There are so many days that I KNOW are bright but the light cannot get in. Struggle on sweetie, I'm right beside you.

[morty_baby]

Oh, that caused me to leak a salty fluid out of my eyes. Thank you Myskat, it's nice to know that I'm not really alone even though that also means that you have your own personal hell. And I wouldn't wish that on anybody.

[myskat]

don't get all misty on me! Just try, like I do, to remember that the colors are still there even if we can't see them for the moment. that and just keeping moving seems to get me through until it's better.

[morty_baby]

I know the colors are there somewhere. They are reflected in the eyes of my daughter. I just have to remember to look into them every once in a while to get me through.

[lucrezaborgia]

I know that horrible feeling. Most people I know that are depressed have only been depressed later in life. I cant really remember a time where I was NOT on that rollercoaster of sadness and happiness. My parents would find me sobbing in my room in the middle of the night for no apparent reason for years. After a while, they just stopped comming to confort me, prefering to ignore me thinking it was just a cry for attention. From then on I would cry as silently as possible so they wouldnt think I was a horrible ungrateful brat for them taking me in.

My uncle in California trys to straight talk me into normalcy by saying that I should 'just get over it'. Mom and dad dont understand at all. The only one who does is my aunt. She went thru a few years where she would cry everyday until she got help. I really want to be "well" and "happy" one day. I know life is not all joy, but theres just too many tears. *sigh*

[morty_baby]

I cried every day for years and when I found out at about 15 that it isn't normal and that everybody DIDN'T cry every day, I was surprised. I have lost what I thought were good friends since I 'came out' about my depression. People who didn't understand what I was going through or didn't want to go through it with me.
Sometimes when I am feeling really low I wonder if I am just a little mad. A soft insinuating subtle kind of insanity. Not enough to incapacitate me, just enough to hold me captive sometimes. But according to the experts, I am completely sane tra la.
I am a strong person. Why can't I talk myself out of it? Why, indeed. Chemical imbalance? So I have been told. Who knows? I just wish that it would leave longer gaps where I feel half-decently alright. It seems that the gaps have been getting shorter and shorter this last year.

[lucrezaborgia]

I am mad, but for different reasons. :)

I am mad at my family for never trying to help me with my depression. I think that they feared what I might say to a therapist. I am mad at my teachers and school counselors for watching me come to school sobbing, or missing days all the time and never doing anything. Hell, I got kicked out of a therapy group in Elementary School!

Anytime I get close to someone, they think I am some kind of freak the moment I open up. I am tired of my life being the perfect inspiration for some soap opera. -_-

[morty_baby]

I told my mother that I was diagnosed with a major depression on top of clinical depression (did you know you could have two depressions at once?) and going through therapy. A part of the ongoing therapy was sorting out my childhood as there were things about it that I had to face. I told her that there was sexual abuse which started when I was four and went on for 4 years and I brought up one incident that really bothered me. I never said she was a bad mother (and she really was horrid). I didn't even mention her handing me my first toke at age 10. I made it a point to be neutral when I told her. She rewrote my childhood for me telling me that the incident did not happen and that I couldn't have been abused because she was at home all the time (yeah, when she wasn't at the pub with my dad) and that I should "just grow up and get over it". No empathy, no culpability, nothing. If my adult child came to me to tell me that as a small innocent girl of FOUR she was sexually abused I would feel so guilty and sad and be so full of rage that

[mysticchyna]

jeebus fucking hell
*chokes back tears*
you just described me.
our catylists may be different...our pasts different...the reasons *for* the elephant in the first place...but I too am in that 5%, gonna give help another whirl...but yeah...*THIS* is me.

Thank you for sharing this. And if you want to talk, IM me, my user info is on my page here.

[morty_baby]

I realize that you are struggling too, sweetie. We just have to put one foot in front of the other. I write as therapy and you take pictures as therapy. At least your therapy gets you out of the house. Actually, a little birdie told me that I am getting a digital camera for my birfday in a couple of weeks. And then I can take as many dead mouse pictures as I want. AH-hahaha heh heh hmmm...

[emt420]

You are definitely NOT in this battle alone

[morty_baby]

The anti-depressants changed me for the worse. I went on Zoloft (the first and the worst of 11) because my depression had gotten so bad I was desperate. Because the experts didn't know me, they thought that the aberrant behavior I started showing was normal for me, so they kept on upping the dose until I became an automaton. A violently insane automaton. I had never felt suicidal in my life up to that point. Zoloft (which I was taking to alleviate my severe depression) made me so depressed that I was actually suicidal. For the first time in my life I started slicing and dicing because I couldn't feel anything anymore. I wanted to just ..feel. Anything. You could have taken a nail gun to my foot and I wouldn't have felt it. I lost 20 pounds in 3 months, had to take 3 other drugs for the terrible side effects and at the end of the Big Zoloft Experiment they had me at 375 mg of Zoloft a day. The max was 400 mg and at 5 foot 7 and 105 pounds I was an over-dosed powder keg waiting to explode. Or to die

[savagepierre]

Eight years of therapy, a plethora of meds, a bad weekend with my oldest daughter and my walls came crashing down on Monday. I know the darkness would have been significantly worse without the Wellbutrin, but there's no mistaking the slide into the abyss. I feel better today after spending last night with friends, but the one ton weight on my heart remains.

Neither one of us will ever be free of our demons, however, what doesn't kill us can only make us stronger.

[morty_baby]

Well, I was hoping that MY demons could at least be manageable enough that we could co-habit together a little more peacefully. My psyche could use a rest.
I hope you are feeling a little better now.