Understanding

I had a conversation tonight that made me think. When one is going through the depths of depression, we are not aware of the environment around us. We are not aware, or I am not aware of the stresses that I put others through. I mean, I know with the bf I was angry and argumentative and I was trying to drive him away. Why? Because it fit with the way I was feeling, the emotions that were whirling through my head. So, how do you explain to someone who has never been through it what you are going through?

Again, due to this conversation, both of us realized there is a real face to diseases like cancer, diabetes, ms, parkinsons, dementia, but when it comes to depression there is no physical ailment. There is no understanding. It is not as though you can see a physical change in the person.  Yes, it is a chemical imbalance in my brain. But you cannot see it. What you see is one day I appear to be moping around and the next, I am so hyper and high that you are not sure how to deal with me.

So I began to think…..how do I explain how I feel, what I see, what is going on that affects me? And I cannot. I am so wrapped up in my own misery and sadness, that I do not care. I do not even notice how I am affecting those around me. I begin to notice when I start being angry all the time, and that the smallest things make me rage. But I put it off as others not caring and I take it all into myself.

All I can hear are the voices in my head, the ones that taunt me, tease me, tell me the things that I do not need nor want to hear. How I am a horrid mother, lover, friend. I am the world’s worst sister and daughter. And in doing so, I isolate myself so as to not subjugate anyone to the horror that has become me. I have not suddenly morphed into The Phantom of the Opera but I am most definitely within the Cersei  dispicable category.

Do I use my depression as an excuse for my behaviour? I do not know. Have I ever thought about how it affects those around me? I will admit that I have not. I have not even considered how hard it must be for someone standing on the outside trying to breach that wall. To have to stand there, to watch the person you care for tearing themselves apart and yet you do not know what to do? When you can feel their pain, as a palpable heart beat in the room, and yet you just do not know how to relate.

I caution patience. I caution self regard. I caution a little leeway for the depressed and yet I understand if it becomes so hard that you cannot. Every face of depression, whether worn by your mother, father, sister, lover, aunt or uncle, grandmother or grandfather, is different. Each one of us views that blackness in varying hues of greys and shadows.

For myself, I am sorry; to my son, my mother, my brother and my bf, to my friends and co-workers. I am sorry for the pain I put you through, the anger and mean things that I said. I cannot tell you that it will not happen again, because it will. There will come a time when my meds might plateau or something so incredibly devastating happens that I cannot even fathom reality; and I will plunge back into that waterfall of pain and hatred. I will be wrapped in a blanket of misery so thick you may dismay. But know I will come back. I will struggle and fight my way free.

And most of all I thank you for your patience. For you belief that I will not always be this bleak and so you stayed beside me. Holding my hand and coaching me through never turning your back. For trying to understand, even when you cannot……I thank you.

 

Happiness is a step away

Well.  Me. My depression. Feeling, knowing when I have broken through the wall and I am beginning to be better. To be more alive, more in touch, more present. I can pin point the day that it happened. Last Tuesday, March 7th. I woke up and I felt good. Not weepy. Not sad. I am not saying that I bounced out of bed, but I was awake before the alarm went off. In the last little while that has not been the case. I have pushed my sleeping time to the max so I can escape.

But here I was, raring to go. And I went. In a storm. I dare say I may have cursed us when I had happened to mention that we had had three months of bad 10% Tuesdays I hoped that wouldn’t happen this time. And what happened? A blizzard blew in. At times we couldn’t even see the highway from the store. I was trying to send people home, calling people off, and yet I was not stressed. I was not feeling pressured, I felt…..dare I say energized.

Wednesday is an early day for me. I have to be at work for 5:30. Drop T off at the sitter’s for 5:15 a.m. and in I go. But I woke up before the alarm.  I showered. I put on a little bit of make up. And to make it even better, I had made T’s lunch the night before so all I had to do was pack his bag. So who is totally rocking it? I get to work and it goes really really well. Except that the alarm kept going off. Like every 2 minutes. There I am counting the tills and all I can hear is beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep, beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep, but after the 15th time of turning the alarm off I was done. It could squeal as much as it wanted I was ignoring it.

Deep breaths I can do this. And I do. I must have shut that stupid alarm off another approximately 20x Wednesday morning but it was okay. I got my shit done and the day progressed beautifully. But now, now we have the dreaded dental appointment in the afternoon. T requires 4 fillings. So I made appointments one when he was with me and one with his dad. Fair is fair. He mind you has been counting down, excited to get fillings. I don’t understand but hey…..he is 8. We are on our way having an awesome conversation which is sooooooo gonna be another blog and we get there and have to wait.

As an aside I should tell you we brought his stuffie Cayman with us and his blanket from home. They had netflix on the t.v. and his chair massaged him as they did the work. He was a champion. Did not flinch did not cry he was amazing. And they talked him through it. Mom on the other hand did cry.

My week ended with the bf coming out on Friday. And we had several interesting conversations. Like how he knew I was feeling better because my house had been tidied and I had picked up. I was much easier to get along with, not quite so negative. And my eyes blinked very rapidly. My eyes only blink very rapidly when I am trying to process the fact that someone made a comment to me or about me that I cannot even fathom they would say to me. But he did.

We made up. But my story continues. Not to bore you but I am still doing okay. I am feeling good about myself about my writing about my friends and family. I am no longer a raging lunatic. A small sized shrew of a lunatic, but not raging…..laughing at that. My boss and my co-workers have been amazing. My family and friends have stood there waiting for me to come back from the brink. And I am sure they are breathing a desperate sigh of relief. My desire to write and create is returning. I think I will be good. I will never again believe that I will not got through another depressive episode but next time it might be caught quicker and mitigate the damage that I may do.

I am happy. I am satisfied. I am creative. And most of all I am alive.