The Great Depression

It has been quite some time since I have blogged.  It is not for lack of content, but lack of motivation, paralyzing apathy, and a "screw it" outlook on life. My Depression came back full force and out for vengeance and blogging wasnt exactly on the top of my to-do (read: survival) list.

As some of yall might know, I have been suffering from Depression for almost 10 years. It comes and goes, is dormant and then rears its ugly head, is a non-issue and suddenly is all-consuming.  When I am in the throes of an episode it affects my relationships with friends and family, my job, my physical health, and my sleep. I cant make simple decisions or focus, feel constantly tired for no reason, never work out, and want to eat and drink all of the things.  I get headaches, gain weight, and am so unbelievably irritable and on edge that I dont even want to be around myself. A very unsettling and weird situation, trust me.

The last year has been a very tough one for me.  I have struggled with, lost some and won some, against a terrible, months-long fight with my Depression.  There were many days that just getting out of bed didn't happen, getting to work was like moving mountains, and finding the energy to put into my relationship and friendships was just.not.going.to.happen. I was drinking way too much, eating crap, not exercising (HA, Hell would have had to have frozen over before that happened), and a pretty miserable person.  I had what a therapist once called "the fuck its."  My room is a mess? Fuck it.  I have eaten fast food already today? Fuck it.  A friend called and I havent called back? Fuck it.  I gained a ton of weight, saw my self-esteem plummet, and hated myself. I almost lost my relationship with John because of my own actions and the debilitating nature of my illness. Despite all of this, it took over 6 months for me to work up the courage to even call to make an appointment with my doctor for new meds.

The guilt I felt for hurting myself and those around me, the shame about feeling like I had to hide what I was going through, and the fear that my illness and the way it manifested would cause me to lose the things I valued most in my life was overwhelming.  It was paralyzing. I felt out of control. At times, it even felt out of body.  I say "my illness" because in a way, my Depression makes me not, well, me. This is not to say that I use Depression to justify my actions or behavior; I have never used it as an excuse.  I do, however, use it as an explanation. Sometimes, especially for people who have never experienced Clinical Depression, it seems like an excuse or a scapegoat.  But it isnt.

Since Monday and the suicide of Robin Williams, there have been hundreds of different blog and Facebook posts and articles, and thousands of different opinions about his death, suicide, and Depression. I am not out to add to that, although I do have personal and professional opinions on the subject. I felt compelled to share my story in hopes to raise awareness about the severity, prevalence, and life and death implications of this disease. Depression is an equal opportunity illness.  It does not discriminate based on anything--not race, age, gender, economic status or education.

So, whether you think it is a chemical imbalance, a spirituality issue, a fake illness, psychobabble, an excuse, or something to "snap out of," I dont really care.  All I care about is that you know that it is real and it is serious, but that it can be managed, controlled, and that a diagnosis of Depression is not the end of the world.  People who suffer from Depression can have healthy relationships, feel joy, and live a fulfilled life.

If you or someone you know is suffering from or might be suffering from Depression, tell someone.  Tell me. Let's talk.

(In case you were curious, I am on the up and up and feel better than I have in months, even though I still have my down moments.)