It's 3:00 A.M., Do You Know Where Your Eye Lids Are?
Depression is a bitch.
I'm, of course, not referring to the "oh damn, 24 is a repeat this week" kind of depression. I mean the ugly, all-premeating, I want-to-hurt-someone-mostly-myself-but-I don't-even-have-enough-motivation-to-do-that depression that affects everyone in a depressive's life.
There are days (many, many days) that it takes sheer force of will to get out of bed. I do it because, as much as my dogs love me, they can't "hold it" forever, and they need to get regular exercise, which is my responsibility to provide. I do it because I love my family, because I have a job, because that's what "normal" people do.
"Normal" is a loaded word. I know it isn't normal to have black thoughts 24/7, to be awake for days at a time, feel totally out of step with the world, and work what seems like 100 times harder to accomplish things that others seem to do without effort. Like "playing nice". Like being social. Like not flying into internalized rage/hatred/self-doubt/fear over minor annoyances.
I come from a place where put up and shut up meant survival.It didn't matter whether wounds were visible or invisible, nobody was allowed to know. I was considered "moody" and "difficult", two qualities that brought me a world of hurt. I hated that I couldn't give my family what they wanted, and that they couldn't understand that I was trying, but it was hopeless. Eight year old children should not attempt suicide. Enough said.
Now there are "wonder drugs" that even out those with Bi-Polar disorder, animate those of us with depression, calm the anxiety ridden, and provide us with that all-important facade of normal. Except they only go so far. I still can't sleep without what I consider heavy medication. I'm tired all the time. I have friends who don't sleep, don't eat, sleep all the time, eat non-stop, overcompensate, engage in risky behaviours, self harm, disengage from reality, abdicate responsibility, shut out the world, scare their families, lose their jobs, try hard to kill themselves.....
I'm off to the Shrink this week to deal with the cesspool that is my depression. I'm tired of living the way I do, I'm tired of being tired. I love my partner with everything I am, but there are ways that I can't express that love. I want to get a handle on the multi-faceted demons in my head. I want to find out which of my "issues" are illness, and which are me just being a jerk.
And I want off Wellbutrin! Anti-depressents with smiley faces on them make me feel homocidal. Which mental midget decided to add insult to injury?
Shalom.
I'm, of course, not referring to the "oh damn, 24 is a repeat this week" kind of depression. I mean the ugly, all-premeating, I want-to-hurt-someone-mostly-myself-but-I don't-even-have-enough-motivation-to-do-that depression that affects everyone in a depressive's life.
There are days (many, many days) that it takes sheer force of will to get out of bed. I do it because, as much as my dogs love me, they can't "hold it" forever, and they need to get regular exercise, which is my responsibility to provide. I do it because I love my family, because I have a job, because that's what "normal" people do.
"Normal" is a loaded word. I know it isn't normal to have black thoughts 24/7, to be awake for days at a time, feel totally out of step with the world, and work what seems like 100 times harder to accomplish things that others seem to do without effort. Like "playing nice". Like being social. Like not flying into internalized rage/hatred/self-doubt/fear over minor annoyances.
I come from a place where put up and shut up meant survival.It didn't matter whether wounds were visible or invisible, nobody was allowed to know. I was considered "moody" and "difficult", two qualities that brought me a world of hurt. I hated that I couldn't give my family what they wanted, and that they couldn't understand that I was trying, but it was hopeless. Eight year old children should not attempt suicide. Enough said.
Now there are "wonder drugs" that even out those with Bi-Polar disorder, animate those of us with depression, calm the anxiety ridden, and provide us with that all-important facade of normal. Except they only go so far. I still can't sleep without what I consider heavy medication. I'm tired all the time. I have friends who don't sleep, don't eat, sleep all the time, eat non-stop, overcompensate, engage in risky behaviours, self harm, disengage from reality, abdicate responsibility, shut out the world, scare their families, lose their jobs, try hard to kill themselves.....
I'm off to the Shrink this week to deal with the cesspool that is my depression. I'm tired of living the way I do, I'm tired of being tired. I love my partner with everything I am, but there are ways that I can't express that love. I want to get a handle on the multi-faceted demons in my head. I want to find out which of my "issues" are illness, and which are me just being a jerk.
And I want off Wellbutrin! Anti-depressents with smiley faces on them make me feel homocidal. Which mental midget decided to add insult to injury?
Shalom.
posted by Alphamutt at 12:16 AM
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