So often I feel foggy, sort of in a haze.
Usually for about half of each year.
Darn depression.
I'm not talking about feeling down or blue. I'm talking about knock-you-off-of-your-feet depression. Keep you in bed depression. Unless you've been there, you cannot understand...depression.
Call it what you will. Rebuke it, ignore it, medicate it. Talk positive, pray more, exercise until it hurts.
It's still real.
Fortunately, I never felt much shame about it. Once we identified the problem about seven years ago, I felt such a sense of relief. I felt relieved that I really wasn't crazy, I wasn't developing Alzheimer's, and I wasn't permanently doomed to a life of confusion, forgetfulness, and numbness.
Medication?
No question, give it to me.
Now.
I felt the tiniest glimmer of hope.
After a few days on medication, I was making breakfast for the boys. Life was a bit more hectic back then, so I didn't even have time to think while making breakfast. All of the sudden, Jonah said something and I laughed.
I laughed.
For a few seconds, I laughed. And it wasn't fake.
It wasn't much, everything suddenly was not better, I wasn't a different person because of medication.
But it was a start.
The start of a long climb up out of a dark pit. The climb that is often one step up, four steps down. The climb that sometimes cannot be measured even by 'one step at a time'. Sometimes, when things are really dark, I have to measure time by 'one breath at a time'.
I don't know why I stayed up last night thinking about the darkness of depression.
I do know that being free from it, for how ever long it lasts, is a priceless gift. And spending the past two days going between the pool and the beach, throwing a beach ball non-stop, laughing with total abandon, has been a bittersweet reminder of how beautiful life can really be.
Without depression.
4 comments:
Wow, Melanie, thanks for trusting us enough to share that with us.
I've walked this road, slogged through this and completely understand...UNDERSTAND what you are talking about. Medication is good. Sometimes it still isn't enough to keep me out of the pit. God and my shrink both tell me to give myself grace when I battle it and never to feel guilty, shamed or faithless when I do. That is so freeing...But I still sometimes push myself too hard with it. But I am much better now than I was 8 years ago...
Thanks for sharing. It is nice to know that I am not the only one in falling in the pit although you feel like it when you are in it since it is so dark and you cannot see around you. Glad you are enjoying life in a different light!
It’s been so long since I had been on my blog or yours and when you stopped by my blog and left a comment it reminded me how much I enjoy reading yours. Last time I was on was when you were taking a break for a while—I have some catching up to do!
I’m so glad you could possibly understand how I’m feeling at the moment. Feeling depressed is really a hard thing to overcome on your own sometimes. I have had medicine in my cupboard for a year and a half, but refuse to take it. My doctor prescribed it after dad died. I just thought I would throw myself into work and school and the kids and wouldn’t have anymore time left for depressing thoughts. However, this year has really packed a punch on me and now I’m starting to wonder if I should get a new Rx. I don’t know if that’s really what I need and I get mad at doctors that just think the be-all/end-all lies in a drug. I also keep thinking that if I do open the bottle, I have somehow admitted defeat—like—I just wasn’t strong enough to do it on my own.
I like what Helen said about her shrink and God telling her never to feel guilty, shamed, or faithless because of it. I know that my God also tells me those things, but when there is so much outside “noise” from others telling you the opposite, its easy to become confused and so my goal—as elementary as it might seem—is to relearn how to quiet myself so I can hear him. If I can’t quiet myself—it wouldn’t matter if God himself was standing in front of me yelling—I probably wouldn’t be able to hear him. Thanks for sharing, its nice to know that you could relate somehow and I get what your saying. TTYL CJ
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