There's some saying that we enter the world alone and we leave alone, too. In between, it seems, there is this frenzy to not be alone. Or to not feel alone.
When I was about thirteen years old, I was pretty majorly depressed. Oh, they gave it names like "school phobia" and adjustment issues or some crap, but looking back now, I think it was just plain old classical depression. I withdrew from my few friends. I had no concentration for school and then just beat myself up because I wasn't doing my work. I didn't know my value. I didn't know my ability. I didn't trust what anyone said. It didn't matter. I knew I was failing, and wasn't worth much.
I still have this image of me all curled up on the read scratchy loveseat downstairs in the rec room, as we called it. Skinny, with overly long limbs. Fetal position, I guess. It was just a few moments, but I remember just wanting to escape from everything or just have someone make it all better. But I was alone. Even if in my own head. I had sibs and parents dragging me to therapy and my one best friend, but, but it just seemed... I couldn't feel it. It was just me. Failing. Worthless.
And yet I was never suicidal. It's not that I wanted to die, I just wanted the pain and sadness to go away, and felt powerless to do anything about it.
The insurance code the pharma used was major depression, severe. The initial change in meds did almost nothing, in fact seemed to make things worse, so he ramped up scripts. And I think "I'm ill." "I have a huge problem." "My history of depression, my family history (including bi-polar disease), my previous experiences, and the unending hell that has been this year have led here."
Who the hell am I? Who can I talk to about this? I'm not talking about support groups, I'm talking about friends, family. In my worse moments I imagine my family thinking, "yup, we were right, she's fragile." In my better ones, I know they love me and want to be there to support me.
Mentally ill. Depression. And one of the meds I"m taking is for panic disorder. Or it's used for it, anyway. And it's helping. At least in keeping some of the anxiety away.
In the meantime, I still feel like I'm failing at just about everything else. My pharma says to reduce the stress, meaning my courseload, as much as I can so I can use my reserves to heal. Others say, push through. That way I'll know it's done and it will be a relief.
C says to just do what's going to help me get better, not to worry about time frames and deadlines. And he's not going anywhere. I can't believe how lucky I am to have him.
I know I have some good tings in my life. Right now all I see is the shit. All I can feel is the struggle. And, really, I have almost nothing good to say. Even as wonderful as all you DBMs out there in the computer have been, I have nothing to say. It's the same crap. And I have pulled away. Even from you wonderful people.
When it comes down to it, I still have to do this myself.
And I just don't know how do it. If I can do it.