On depression: living with it

[oyceter]

Some things that happened over the weekend had me thinking about depression and about speaking out. On the importance of sharing experiences, of having someone else who was only an acquaintance before look across the table at you and say, "Yes. Yes, me too." On that one horrible secret you don't tell anyone coming out, on it being smaller, lighter, easier to carry once it's out of the dark.

Index of "On Depression" posts

I wrote about living in the mire of depression before and on watching someone you love and care about going through depression or mental illness as well. And I keep wanting to write about treatment, about recovery, about finding your way back. I didn't want to call it "recovering" or something, because I think that's somewhat deceptive. Sometimes you don't recover, not fully. Sometimes you heal. Sometimes you don't. For me, though, treatment and recovery and healing mean living with depression, not living in depression, knowing enough about myself and this disease to be able to coexist with it, to keep it from taking over my life.

The path out of depression has so many steps, all of them hard. But I keep thinking that the first one that I took was in finally admitting that I needed help. It's so easy to suspect depression and dismiss the possibility, to fear treatment, to fear the medication, to fear what it means for your life. And it's so easy to never decide to treat it; treatment is scary and new, depression is the familiar, even in its misery. And depression saps you of your will to do anything, much less take steps to cure it.

But one day, one month, you decide that you cannot do this anymore, and that the way out is not suicide or self-injury or the bottle or your multitude of dysfunctional coping mechanisms. For once, you decide that you need someone else's help. You ask a friend, a lover, a family member. You find a therapist or a psychiatrist. You have to talk about it in an office to a complete stranger without even knowing if this person will be the right fit. You're afraid that they'll listen to your story and tell you that you aren't depressed, that you just can't cope well, that there's really nothing wrong with you. You've told yourself this so many times before anyway.

You deal with therapists who don't seem to listen, therapists who spout platitudes and cliches. You get tired of trying, of telling the same story again and again. You deal with horrible office hours, missed calls, taking calls at the office, at the supermarket, whenever is most awkward. You worry about how you'll pay for all this. You hear horror stories on the effects a diagnosis of depression has on insurance rates. You try to read up on medication and hear people talking about their awful experiences on them, or you find articles that tell you the bad things the drugs do to your brain.

Then you have to get a prescription, get it filled, wonder what the lady at the drugstore counter thinks of you. There are side effects. There are weeks of waiting for the meds to kick in. There are even more battles with insurance and copays.

And then, hopefully, there is that one day when it feels like a cloud has been lifted from your eyes. And, oh, you can breathe, you can see, you can feel; you're alive and you're you and it's good. This is what normal feels like. This is that elusive feeling that's been evading you for years. It's so easy because finally, existence is no longer painful. Sometimes it takes a little time to recognize joy, so long a stranger. And finally, you can start working on being ok with yourself, on living.

Then there's family and friends and lovers, people at work, people at activites. Who do you tell? How do you tell them? How will they react? You try to tell some people and watch as a wall comes up. Other people say they understand but treat you like you're fragile and breakable. The worst tell you that it's not a disease, that willpower alone can conquer it. Well-meaning people ask you if you've gotten off your meds yet. There's pressure to be better, to never be down again, to suddenly be well. Other people try to help you by saying not to stress, not to worry, and they only stress you more.

But then, you find some people and you tell them, and maybe they've never dealt with this before, maybe they've had a family member or a friend deal with it, maybe they've been through the same thing. But they understand. They know the territory. And suddenly, you're not alone. It's always different, but having those people who don't think you're crazy, who can look at you and see you and not a disease, that's a gift.

Finally, when you think you've got it down, your medication stops working. You always have to worry and think, to test, to make sure that this grey day, that this bad mood is just a bad day, is stress. Sometimes you forget that normal people feel bad as well and that you can let yourself feel bad. But you can never let yourself forget that if it goes on for too long, if it persists even when the stressor is gone, that your old enemy is back and you have to muster up the energy to fight it again. You have to watch your diet, your sleeping habits, your mood more carefully, because anything could be a trigger.

But at least this time, you know enough to somewhat stave off the irrational thoughts, even though you still feel them. You have something built up: friends who will tell you that you sound off, family who will let you know that they're still there. You know you're the only one who can help yourself, you know that you can only get well when you decide to. But there are moments of grace, times when you don't have the strength, but someone else does. After a while, you find that you can sometimes even be that person.

And so, you keep going, one day at a time, one foot in front of the other. It's not a straight path or an easy one, but it's progress, it's movement. It's not just choosing life, but choosing to participate in life.

Comments

[rachelmanija.livejournal.com]

This is a lovely post. I don't have much to add other than that I think you're absolutely right.

I still feel a little weird sometimes when I'm talking to someone, and I could mention that I've been depressed, or I could not mention it. Generally, in the interest of education, I do say something, but sometimes it just feels too weird and I don't.

[oyceter]

Thank you.

I always have that moment of "Should I tell? Should I not? What will they think?" I mean, obviously I don't spring it on people during small talk, but if someone mentions something about meds or therapy or whatnot, there's always that odd choice. Usually if I find that the other person is on meds or in therapy as well, I'll say something.

[jonquil.livejournal.com]

Yes. Every word true.

You can't ever stop dealing with it, but you can deal with it better, you can recognize the patterns when you're sliding.

[oyceter]

You can't ever stop dealing with it, but you can deal with it better, you can recognize the patterns when you're sliding.

Yeah. I don't know if it ever goes away, because even when you're off meds, there's the fear of a relapse. But it still doesn't have to take over your life.

[lenadances.livejournal.com]

Oh God, yes. ::clings:: Thank you for putting words to it.

[oyceter]

Thank you, I'm glad it helped!

[rushthatspeaks.livejournal.com]

Word.

[oyceter]

Thanks.

[shati.livejournal.com]

Thank you for posting this.

[oyceter]

I'm glad you liked it.

[tzikeh.livejournal.com]

Yes, yes, and yes again. I'm glad you posted it; I have been trying to come up with a post for years.

[oyceter]

Thank you; I'm glad it works!

[veryshortlist.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much for writing this.

[My mother was diagnosed with depression a long time before I was born, and it's been hard because I am like her in many ways. I get moody and depressed as well.]

So this post is...close to my heart.

Thanks for writing so eloquently, and so informatively. I wish more people would.

[oyceter]

*hugs* I'm really glad people have been.. not enjoying it, but that it's been helpful.

an oldie but a goodie

[http://users.livejournal.com/mazal_/]

Three thoughts, related only by the common theme of depression ...

1. For what it's worth, my best description of the worst times goes something like this: Praying at night that you will die in your sleep and then crying in the morning that you're still alive.

2. Am I the only one who has, for lack of a better term, political hesitations about medication? What I mean is: It seems sometimes that literally half the adults I know are on anti-depressants (and half the children I know are on ADHD meds). While both are real and serious problems, I have to wonder what is going on with this (It almost goes without saying that all said people are middle-class whites).

3. Having said the above, I want to reiterate that I am not against medication per se and probably had my life saved thereby in the aforementioned situation. For those taking or considering taking medication, don't overlook the old-school kind. For that truly clinical depression (years in the past), I was initially given two medications -- Xanax and something else (possibly Zoloft), which pulled me from the brink of anorexia but didn't do much else. After a freakout (and after six months), my shrink sent me to another shrink who put me on Elavil, which turned me back into a human being over a three-day weekend -- so amazingly fast that the docs could hardly believe it. That swiftnes of recovery might not occur for someone else; I just wanted to mention that old-time meds like Elavil are worth considering. It worked for me, and that class of meds tends to have fewer serious side effects.

Re: an oldie but a goodie

[oyceter]

Re: #2, I'm actually not that worried about the supposed overmedication of people, largely because almost everyone I've talked to is afraid of it and I feel it contributes more to the stigma of medication than anything else. I dunno. It feels like some of those alarmist news stories saying "Women! Fear your biological clock and have children now!" or something.

All my evidence is anecdotal, but then, I haven't read a good study yet on overmedication that isn't, so I figure most of it could very well be the media. And most of the people I know who are in antidepressants are on them because of clinical depression or something else... I dunno, hard to say without having actual numbers.

Re: an oldie but a goodie

[canandagirl.livejournal.com]

I understand your hesitation about medication. I think it's odd how a medication can turn around years of depression in a matter of months, and I've known people who have had to deal with side effects for months after taking the meds. Chemicals are strange things.

Re: an oldie but a goodie

[oyceter]

Well, I suppose it's odd, but on the other hand... I dunno. I think of depression as a disease. Like... diabetes or something. And maybe it's odd that insulin injections or something can very quickly turn that around (if it does... I actually don't know so I very well may be completely wrong), or how taking Advil can make a headache go away.

And yeah, the side effects suck, but on the other hand, finding a medication that worked for me, that actually lifted the fog of depressive thinking, it was so incredibly freeing. It's not a happy pill or anything, but if it works, it sort of kicks you out of the cycle of "I suck, everything that happens only goes to show that I suck," which is not a natural cycle, imho.

Re: an oldie but a goodie

[canandagirl.livejournal.com]

I suppose you're right about that.

Re: an oldie but a goodie

[canandagirl.livejournal.com]

Good point (I wanted to add that, but my fingers type faster than my brain can think).

[canandagirl.livejournal.com]

Thanks for the post. Do you have any tips on finding a good therapist?

[oyceter]

Alas, no... I went through two other therapists before I found my current one. You can first try and go through your insurance, though it's really tough just skipping around to try and find someone that fits. Really, it's a lousy process of going out there, making appointments, and seeing if someone "felt" right.

Depression

[(Anonymous)]

I also think that medication is not the answer to depression.It's better to share with your closest person.I can say it helps alot and you feel relieved.
Cara Fletcher
http://www.overcome-depression.net/medication_depression.html

Depression

[(Anonymous)]

The first step in fighting with depression is to understand taht there is something wrong and you need help.For me the best cure for it are natural treatments.
Cara Fletcher
http://www.overcome-depression.net/supplements/