‘Desperate times cause for desperate measures’, that’s what the quote says anyway. Here I am at Robin’s, sitting alone, sipping a coffee and writing; like I was getting paid for it. I’m expecting the roof to blow off the building any minute, the wind is blowing so hard. I’m here trying to put my thoughts together but nothing seems to work. If I’m getting paid per word for what I’m writing, then my pay won’t be much today.
I’ve just experienced two horrible weeks of depression and nothing I do helps. When you are feeling depressed; ‘to do’ are the last two words in your vocabulary. You really feel totally disabled, not that you don’t want ‘to do’ something, you can’t do it. It’s like your body goes in shut down mode and you find it next to impossible to function. Nothing brings you joy, you feel numb but mostly you feel angry and guilty because you feel this way. I know it’s not my fault, this illness has captured my mind and as held me prisoner for most of my life.
Major depression is not a once in a lifetime occurrence or at least it hasn’t been for me. I guess I can compare it to a roller coaster, with many ups and downs; with the downs a lot lower then the highs of the ups. The scariest part of the ride is, you have no choice in when your ride will end and you can get off. Yes, you will experience times when your depression goes into remission as it were. You know it’s still there, but you can live life with a little more ease. Those are the times when you have to enjoy life to it’s fullest because you don’t know how long this reprieve will last. And then that disabling, crippling, ugly beast of depression returns in all it’s fury; that’s where I’ve been for the past few weeks. I call it a veil of sadness.
What happens to me during this period of time? I change! I find it difficult to laugh, but yet normally, I love to laugh. I love to make other people laugh; so much so that I started a YouTube channel called, ‘Walter on da line’ and it’s all about laughing. But when I’m in this pit of despair I cannot even play the part but yet I miss it so much. I’m hoping this cloud will soon lift and I can get back to playing my character, ‘Walter’, once again. Then, I didn’t go to church on Sunday, and I rarely miss. But I just could not go, I couldn’t be around large crowds, just too overwhelming. The darkness was starting to close in, the dark night of depression was creeping in. When this happens I find it really hard to see the sunshine, even when the sun is shining. I love bright sunny days but when depression strikes, the darkness hides the sunshine. I want to just run and hide. I ignore the phone, not that I don’t want to talk to the other person but I just can’t. I just want to sleep and isolate; but I know if I do, depression will take over. So now I am becoming very frightened, scared and panic is setting in, I’m terrified that I’m relapsing, that I’m returning to that place I call hell. I can’t go there again, ever! I know now I have to see my doctor. I make my appointment.
The night before my doctor’s appointment, I sat down and tried to the best of my ability, to write what I thought he needed to hear, in order to help me.
Once inside his office, I sat and pulled out my letter of ‘confession’ and nervously let him hear what I was feeling. ‘My doctor appointment note’:
‘Lying in my restless bed last night, I turned over at least a thousand times. My appointment with my doctor this morning was enough to give anyone nightmares. I felt my life was on the line but how would I make him see that. And if he did, what good would it do, if any? Had my diagnosis been written in stone and this was my lot in life? Six months had gone by since my last appointment and here I was again, waiting impatiently in the waiting room.
What as happened in those six months that he would need to know and that I would need to tell him, in order for him to understand where I am today, in my somewhat mental health. I guess those pass six months have proven, I’m not suicidal because if I were, I would not be sitting in this chair today and he would have lost one of his many patients.
But how have I improved or declined since my last visit? Mental health isn’t as black or white as other physical illnesses and therefore much harder to explain and pinpoint. For me each day and everyday is a fight and a struggle to survive this war within. Some days very intense, others maybe not so intense, but a struggle none the less. It’s a fight to function, to move, to feel happiness, to perform. Some days I do fairly well, others not so well.
The last few weeks I have found myself spiraling downward into a deep hole of despair. Wanting to sleep more, to escape the pain. Longing just to feel okay. Not being afraid to face the day, just to know I can do this. But lots of my days I loose my fight, I run out of ammunition, there’s nothing left to fight with. I’m exhausted, tired, frustrated and lots of times hopelessness creeps in and tries to steal that little bit of ‘being’ that I have left. But I won’t let go, I hold on tight.
My pain becomes real through my tears. I have moments when I have to let them escape and let some of the pain go. Sometimes I think I feel healing in my tears. Some people may call that weakness but I call that strength. Keeping it all inside is weakness; not wanting or knowing what to do with the pain. Finding ways to cope, to heal, to be okay; is strength! On most days, that’s how I have functioned.
But the scary days come when you feel you are loosing control, when you are loosing your battle and you have no strength to fight back. That’s the scary days and that’s where I am today.’
I believe he heard me, he was listening. But I also believe that he knows that this is really what my life is, was and always will be. I will have good days and bad days, but I have to accept that that’s the way this illness works, much like any other illness, you have it and you just have to learn to live with it. Right now I feel really low but I have to believe that I will bounce back again. That the light will shine again, that the spark will come back into my eyes, my energy and drive will increase and life will be restored to my being.
I know what I have written is very personal and some would call private. But if I am going to be honest and expose this horrible disease for what it is, then I have to tell it like it is and hide nothing. Good days and bad days. If I have to sacrifice my own privacy to help others to see and feel this misunderstood, stigmatized and cruel disease, then I will do so.
