I find that puppy therapy can be immensely helpful. photo via sarah.of.a.lesser.god, with assistance from her pup lola
I haven’t been around here for a while. I’m kind of embarrassed about that, to be honest, and not sure if anyone has noticed.
About six months ago I wrote about my experiences with mania, and I knew that there would be the inevitable flip-side of depression. Sure enough, that’s been my headspace for the past two months. By depression, I mean the kind wherein you feel that you literally cannot get out of bed, where you have spontaneous headaches, where you have crying jags while ordering pizza, where you just wish you could cut off communication from everyone (but don’t because I don’t want to scare mother.of.a.lesser.god any more than I already have). Yes, I’m on meds, and I do take them. And I’m lucky enough to have health coverage that allows me to see a therapist.
Let’s face it: I have had a lot of things go my way in life. I am able to remain thankful for that. So this is not a let’s-whine-about-my-circumstances post, and I really hope nobody takes it that way. Part of the reason I’ve written this is as a mea culpa, because I do feel guilty for neglecting this blog that has been so rewarding for me. But part of the reason is the same one that spurred me to write about my mania, namely that depression is something that is all too common and something that a lot of people still feel inhibited about discussing.
I experienced a devastating loss about nine months ago, one that I’m reticent to go into too much detail about (there will never be an overshare post about it, other than this quick mention), and I was ignoring my grief until August. In retrospect, it probably prompted a lot of the mania. It’s easier to bounce off the walls than grieve. What spurred my ability to think about my complex feelings about the incident was the Harpy House trip and realizing that it would have been an experience that I would have shared with the baby I lost. That’s when everything got very screwed up. Guilt and anger and confusion started overwhelming me, and it wasn’t a great combination when it slammed into my long history of depression.
But depression doesn’t always need a reason to overtake a person. I’ve had it whammy me at the least convenient, predictable times. There are little things I can do to cheer myself up in the short term, such as hot chocolate (especially on a cold October day), watching baseball games (go Yankees!), watching Ewan McGregor movies (yeah, even The Island), cuddling my three pups (and earning endless mothering licks from Lola-pup), and researching etymology (embracing geeky hobbies is good for the soul).
The thing is that the core of the issue, at least to my mind, is the chemical interaction in my brain that is behind depression. I remember being diagnosed first with clinical depression and then manic-depression at the ages of seventeen and twenty, respectively. There had been one suicide attempt at thirteen, and one at nineteen, so the diagnoses struck me as being old news. Zoloft was prescribed, then Prozac, Effexor, Topomax, and Lamictal, as well as Seroquel for insomnia. Given that my father also is manic-depressive, I felt less alone in the situation.
I’ve always been a self-isolator. My mother constantly reminds me that, as a child, I was “the one reading a book in the sandbox while the other kids played,” and that I would respond to her pressure to have play-dates by protesting, “but I had to see other kids last week!” This was probably more of a character trait than any manifestation of depression at age five, but it hasn’t helped me deal with the issues that came along later. My tendency to hide from the world helped me hide self-destructive behavior, including severe anorexia. I figured nobody would hassle me about that stuff if they didn’t spend enough time to care about me. Luckily, that plan didn’t work.
This is not to say that I’ve spent my entire adult life as an Emily Dickinson/Howard Hughes-esque recluse. I’ve gone to college and done well, although I had to leave my first college due to anorexia and depression; I’ve held down jobs and supported myself; I’ve had relationships and friendships. The Internet has helped immensely, as I can combat my social anxiety if I meet people from behind the safety of my laptop.
Everyone’s depression takes different shapes. My guess is that at least one person reading this has struggled with depression or manic-depression or Obsessive Compulsive Disorder or an eating disorder. I’d like to think I’m the only one who has attempted suicide, if only because I would not wish that kind of despair upon anyone, but the statistics are such that I’m probably not alone in that experience either. If anyone wishes to open up about their own struggles in the comments, I encourage them to do so. (Or email me privately, because I know it’s not always something that’s comfortable to discuss, even within the semi-anonymous sphere of the Internet.) In the meantime, I’m slogging through and knowing that somehow it won’t stay this way forever because it never has in the past. Life is not worth ignoring or hiding from, even during the hardest times. So I’ll try to recognize the truth of that belief and get up tomorrow morning with faith in the future.
My heart goes out to you, sarah.of.a.lesser.god, and I’m very sorry for your loss.
I thank you for writing so honestly about depression. I feel your pain; although I’m not manic, I’ve coped with depression since I was teen and I, too, tend to isolate myself. Few people, even among those close to me, know about the depth of my depressive issues because I’m a highly functional depressive. (I suppose technically I’m dysthymic – most of the time.) This is the first time I’ve talked about it on the internetz.
*tears up*
I’ve missed you, S.O.A.L.G.! And I’m glad to see you back, even if it’s under these circumstances.
I’ve been on happy pills for 15+ years. They’ve made a great deal of difference in my life, and I make no secret about my medicated state. I agree that depression manifests in many ways and that pushing away trauma or hurt will just make it come back that much stronger.
I’m rooting for you. A lot of people care about you, both those you know in person and those who know you virtually. We need you, Sarah! If there’s anything I can do to help, you have my contact info.
And give your puppies hugs from me!
SOALG, so glad to see you again. I know we don’t know each other from a hole in the wall, but I was thinking about you last night whilst I sat up in the dark on my futon, watching Mo shut it down in the 9th inning
Thank you for being so open with what can be such a painful subject to talk about. I have struggled with depression and anxiety for over a decade. I’ll spare you my story, as this is not about me. Sometimes “you are not alone” isn’t a very helpful sentiment, but I wanted to let you know that on some level, I’ve been there. Still there. Will be there again. And if you ever need anything, even just an email inbox to talk to, you’ve got that in me. decayedorbit@yahoo.com
Having had a chronic, low-grade depression for going on five years now, I empathize. We shall pull through it, you an I.
Heartfelt thanks to all of you. I wish none of you had to deal with similar struggles, as much as it can be a bit of a comfort to feel less alone when that’s the case.
ImTheMarigold: Yes, watching Mo do his thing will definitely cheer me up!
@ SOALG: There’s a lot of chronic depression around. We tend to think we’re damaged or deliberately malfunctional when we are seriously depressed over and over. But it’s an illness that is often hereditary, just as so many others are. It’s not anything we did or didn’t do, it’s just chemistry.
But then, when something terrible happens, you not only have that to deal with, but you have the fear that you’ll relapse (that is, if you’ve been stable). It can be very scary, trying to figure out how much is normal reaction to a severe stressor and how much might be the depression coming back.
Sarah, I am hugging you through the internetz RIGHT NOW.
hey darling, brief post my end as the internets hate me and my computer preventing much online activity but a) here’s a big hug from me (also I was also the kid in the sandbox reading – I used to hide upstairs at kid’s parties reading their books and sometimes their parents) and b) get my email from Becky – we should meet up to watch one of the Yankees games on tv somewhere if you fancy (my hatred of the Phillies outweighs my Yanks dislike oddly).
Sarah – I just picked up the phone to book an appt with my therapist, and I want to thank you for helping me to do that (I haven’t been since the end of July because I’ve been doing well for awhile). I can only empathize with your situation and my heart goes out to you… I don’t think anything any of us can say will even approach knowing your situation, but we’re all thankful that you’re back and posting again!
Aside from the mania (which I personally don’t experience) this post really hit home with me. I felt like parts of it I could have been writing myself. I too am very much a self-isolator. I get depressed and I just want to be totally alone. It’s easier to wallow.
My depression has been really difficult to deal with this time around (I’ve been going through waves of differing levels of depression ever since I was about 16, I’m 26 now) but I’m trying. I don’t use pills anymore because well…I don’t want to. But I have been trying to force myself out of my house as much as possible. I did that just this last Saturday. I made myself go out with a couple friends and I did end up having a good time. It’s weird, once I actually go out I usually have fun but the idea of leaving my home is so…nauseating. I can’t really explain it.
Anyway, I just wanted to thank you for this post. Very much appreciated.
So glad to have you back, s.o.a.l.g.!
SOALG, I’m so sorry to hear that. I’ve struggled with depression as well. My first big “episode” or as I tend to think of it, 15 month long black spot, happened when I was 14. Since then I’ve at least been able to recognize the signs when I feel like I’m downsliding and get some sort of help. I always feel bad for the people who care about me because I get so sad and they want to help but I just want to be alone with my cat(s). When my cat died last May and another close family member ill with cancer (he passed this morning) its been a rough few months for me as well. I was having a really bad week last week and then BF and I had dinner plans with friends on Friday and I could barely bring myself to go, but I wanted to go because I knew once I got there it’d be fun. But it was a struggle, and I was 40 minutes late and BF was really worried, and I upset him and he was like, why did you say you’d go? We could’ve just stayed in I didn’t want to force you. I tried to explain that its not a reasonable feeling. And I almost didn’t have the energy to articulate everything. But meanwhile I made everyone wait and then turned up with my eyes all red and stuff. It is embarrassing in a way. I try to just live my life the best way I can. You know? I can’t apologize for it.
*hugs* Good to have you back.
As someone who also struggles with chronic depression a big ((((hug))) to you. I’ve learned that for me, reveling in the depression a bit vs. trying to fight it can get me through a little faster and I feel more clear of the depression when I finally come through the other side. I have had enough bouts, unfortunately, that I *know* I will come out of it eventually. Which makes me a little less panicked that it will never end.
I’ve also suffered from chronic depression for about as long as I can remember, and it runs in my family. Like you, I was always happier being lost in a book (or now the Internet) than spending time with other people. I’ve (mostly) overcome my shyness/social anxiety now to the point where I can put on a good face and even enjoy others’ company, but I still am a person who needs solo time to recharge. Right now I’m doing pretty good without meds (knocking on wood that the darkness of winter, and speaking too soon, doesn’t bring it back), but I still have an old prescription on hand in case I need to start up again. But I don’t delude myself into thinking that I’ve outgrown it or moved beyond it permanently, it’s there waiting for me and could re-emerge at any time. Some of my worst spells have been in the last few years, provoked by a combination of moving cross-country, giving up a comfortable life to start grad school in a town where I knew noone, while at the same time ending a long-term and abusive relationship. I’ve never attempted suicide but I’ve come extremely close at least 3 times…in fact, in an odd twist of irony that I still feel guilty about, Hurricane Katrina probably saved my life (while taking so many others). But like Ms. M, I can now get through the spells that do come, because I’ve been through so many that I know they will eventually come to an end, even if only briefly (and for me, the happy spells usually are briefer than the “ok” and depressed spells).
Thank you to everyone who has shared their stories. As Ms. M says, these things can go in cycles and there is an awareness that this too shall pass, but it can be so difficult to deal with in the moment.
bluebears I am so sorry to hear about your loved one. My condolences.
I’m a self-isolater, too. I have a VERY difficult time leaving the house (alone) if I’m going somewhere other than work, or someplace that’s not part of my routine. I usually cannot even go to the grocery store by myself. It’s much better if there’s someone with me, although sometimes I get a little freaked out then, too.
I have severe anxiety, OCD, and major depressive disorder. Oh, and narcolepsy, and ADHD. It seems ridiculous to even type all those into the comment form, like it’s not even possible to have that much crap wrong with one person.
I first considered suicide when I was 11 years old. I’ve never actually attempted it. I have come close, though. Until recently, I thought about it almost daily, with varying degrees of intensity. I’m on medication that works now, and I think I’ve finally learned that I will always need to be on it, and I should really never randomly stop taking it because I think I’m cured. (D’oh!)
So far, I haven’t been able to finish my degree. I dropped out of college my very first semester, then proceeded to re-enroll and drop out several more times. I’m working part time now, about 20 hours a week, and I tell people it’s because I’m planning on going back to school and finally finishing my degree. However, the real reason is that I just plain cannot cope with working full time.
In spite of all that, I’m doing fantastic right now. I feel great. Hooray for drugs! Mind you, I tried several that sucked, and for a while I was near despair, thinking none of them would ever work. For me, the magic drug is Wellbutrin (and thyroid medication and a Vitamin D supplement). I hope it continues to work for me.
I know from experience that this part, the crap you’re going through right now, sucks. Hang in there, and keep savoring the small triumphs and pleasures–sometimes all you can do is wait it out.
To everyone: hang tough! This world is better for having all of you in it.
To bluebears: I’m so sorry to hear of your loss. Please accept my sincere sympathy-and for your beloved cat as well.
Happy to see you back. Hang in there.
wow. reading your blog post, and then the comments, has made me realize that this self isolation thing i’ve been doing for… a couple of years, might actually be depression. that the generally feeling down all the time might be more than that. and though the thought that i may have been in depression for a couple of years is, well, depressing, it’s also making me feel better. i’ll talk to my therapist about it this wednesday.
thank you for making me realize that i’m not alone in my isolation. i too need a really big kick in the butt just to go out & meet friends once in a while, even though i know i’m gonna have a good time. like jessica said, going out of the appartment for regular/routine stuff is not a problem, but for something fun & unexpected… that’s another story. and the working part-time because you can’t handle more. that’s also me.
to cut this short, thank you for opening my eyes
Thanks for the sympathy.
You’re not the only one.
I have bipolar disorder, along with anxiety issues/eating disorder. I’ve been on meds since I was 11, and attempted suicide when I was 16. I spent a fair chunk of grades 11 & 12 in the hospital, and although now I’m in my early 20s and have a stable relationship and have a decent job, I still struggle. I don’t know if I’ve gotten healthier, or if I’ve just gotten better at coping/hiding.
The depression is hardest for me, and I inevitably spiral back into that headspace. It makes it hard to get out of bed, go to work, take care of myself, take care of my home, maintain my relationships, or function at all, really. I’ve been on just about every goddamn medication there is in the past 10 years, and have finally found a combination that works reasonably well (Prozac, lithium and Seroquel).
Depressed, manic or otherwise, I do not sleep. I take the antipsychotics so that I can get some rest at night–I have not slept without medication for about 4 years and I am fairly sure that I never will again. Nobody is really sure what the deal is with that. I occasionally get sick of taking drugs all the goddamn time but I apparently need them to live.
I hope it doesn’t sound too melodramatic or whatever, but it’s… very tiring and frustrating. Sorry for being a downer. :\ I don’t really know where I am going with this.
Anyway, sorry you’re feeling down. Things will
ARGH
*things will start looking up. Take care.
Sorry, a kitten walked on my laptop keyboard.
Thank you very much for this post.