Not For Me

It's not just feeling sad. There are lots of parts to depression that people don't talk about. They're starting to, which is good,  but talking about something, doesn't always mean its understood.

I was diagnosed with depression at 18. My mother took me in to see the doctor because I hadn't left my bed in two weeks. I stopped eating, I didn't shower and I cried constantly. Even though she was told I was 'just going through a phase' my mom recognized it could be something more and it was.

But having depression at 18 and 40 are very different.

I don't remember much about my symptoms then, only that I was put on medication to 'feel better'. Counseling was never suggested. Self-care wasn't even a term recognized or practiced yet. Eventually the meds stopped working and I started drinking and smoking pot to numb the pain instead.

In my mid twenties I made lines in my skin with razor blades. I didn't talk to anyone about how I was feeling until a friend came over and found me clutching a bottle of painkillers.  My doctor sent me to a psychologist that read my chart and said, "I can't do anything for you." I was convinced there was nothing I could do to feel 'normal'.

Eventually I ended up in counseling. I got on different meds. I learned that my past can affect my present. I got 'better'.

When I was barely 30, I was intensely anxious. I didn't know that's what it was though. I just thought I was shit at being a human. I was managing a retail store and it was the first time I'd tried to lead anyone. I was learning as I went along, failing and succeeding constantly. One morning a coworker shared she was taking Prozac for anxiety. She suggested maybe that would work better for me and desperate to feel 'normal' again, I asked my doctor about it.

He put me on it and things got better. It got easier to breathe again. I still had ebbs and flows of depression and anxiety, but they were manageable.  I've taken Prozac ever since... until two months ago.

I didn't stop taking it because I suddenly didn't think I needed it. I stopped because I had dental surgery and taking that many pills was literally painful. It had been figuratively painful for awhile. I hate taking medication to feel 'normal'. It's frustrating to know that something synthetic is the only thing that can make me feel real.  At the time of surgery I was taking 5 pills a day. After the surgery I took only what I needed to make the pain stop.  I stopped taking my antidepressants cold turkey. Everything everywhere tells you not to do this but I did it anyway. I justified it.

I was fine for awhile. I felt clear headed and focused. I felt like I could handle anything and everything that was coming towards me. I felt 'normal'. And then my cat went missing. I still felt ok for a short time...I was sad, but I could tell it was sadness and not depression.

Until it was.

Depression took it's time coming to me, sneaking up like shadows at twilight before finally engulfing me in darkness. I didn't realize I was even in it until...well, I'm not even sure when. I just seem to know, I'm not 'normal' right now.

I cry.
I don't eat.
Unless I'm eating everything. (Like all the sweets in the house. Are you trying to be a diabetic?)
I can't sleep even though I desperately want to. All the time. (It's never quiet enough.)
I have little motivation. Even to get showered and dressed is a great effort sometimes. (I'm not that bad, I still make it to work. )
I want to go out and do things but it feels like I can't and then I feel mad because I don't do anything.
I am extremely sensitive. I soak in others' sadness and add it to my own. Empathy doesn't begin to describe it. Sad news sends me spiraling. (Nobody said life was easy. Jesus, get over it.)
I forget things. I have to ask people to repeat requests only an hour after they've asked them.
I space out.
Loud sounds make me wince and I am startled easily.
I feel worthless, disgusting, pointless. I believe Depression's lies.
I don't care about the things I want to care about.  (Doesn't matter anyway)
Unless I care too much.
I doubt kindness from others-wondering if someone told them to be nice to me or it feels like everyone is talking about what I look like, act like, said last week.

This isn't normal. Not for me.