My husband said to me last night, I dont understand depression, or how someone could think suicide is the answer. He said it quite honestly, and wanting to hear my thoughts. He asked me because I have depression - sometimes severe, most of the time moderate. This is relatively recent - it started mildy while pregnant with Sydney, and turned into a raging post partum depression, that just never went away. I see a counselor, and I take meds - because if I didnt Id be a sniveling ball of tears and fear in a ball behind the couch, and no use to anyone, let alone myself. Have I been suicidal? No, not ever. But have I thought that my husband and kids would sometimes be better off with a mom/wife that functioned better, and could be what they deserve? Yup, more often that Id like to admit. So, to help him understand depression? How can I, when I dont understand it myself? Im a happy, fun person. My life is AMAZING. Im (mostly) healthy, and have phenomenal ppl in my life. Why am I depressed? Well, because my body says it is. Like diabetes, it cant be seen. Like colitis, you cant tell by looking at me. Like so many invisible medical issues, I look fine, so I must BE fine, right? I wish... The best way I can describe it when its bad is that my brain and my body are both stuck in quicksand. I can literally - LITERALLY - sit on the couch and look at the pile of clean laundry in front of me, and not be able to physically move my body to start folding it. I look at the pile and cry, feeling useless and worthless, knowing my kids and husband need clean clothes. I look at the clock at 5:00 knowing I have to make dinner, and cant wrap my head around what to make. I see the pile of mail to open and cant bring myself to tackle it. I look at my beautiful horses in the field, knowing I could be outside doing something fun with them, but cant figure out how to get out there. I look at my kids and know they are tired of often staying home and not doing much, because part of my depression has become some social anxiety, and that going places - even the grocery store or playground - can get me in a spiral. Im not always that bad, actually most of the time its maybe about half of what Ive described. But this has been a hard year - bad reactions to 3 different meds has been a monumental battle since January, that Im still fighting. But as I hear ppl talking about the amazing Robin Williams, and not understanding how someone that has it all could take his own life, I realize more and more how few ppl REALLY understand mental health issues. My step father had severe depression. He was the only person in my life that GOT me, that UNDERSTOOD exactly what I meant when I said Im fine, because he knew that I was NOT. My husband is wonderful and understanding and patient - as patient as he can be when hes got no clean underwear. But he just does not GET it. Neither does my mother, and after living with Terrys depression for so many years, she has experience with it, but she still does not GET it. Only someone thats experienced it, GETS it. So why am I baring my soul like this? Sharing something that most ppl dont know about me? Risking the funny looks Ill now get because ppl wont know what to say to me? Because if someone is reading this and has depression, and feels like there is no one that GETS it, guess what - I do. Call me, text me, msg me. Im sick of hiding it. Im sick of the stigma it carries. I hate that it effects my life as a mom, a wife, a friend, a business woman - all in a bad way. Im sick to my stomach that someone as funny and wonderful and amazing as Robin Williams could not win the fight with his demons. Share this on your walls. Because Im betting that you have MANY friends that deal with depression, and I am betting that like me - they hide it well. If you made it this far, thank you for reading. And if there are some days - or weeks - where you notice Im not myself? Well, thats me now - that IS myself.
Posted on: Tue, 12 Aug 2014 12:38:32 +0000
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