Should I ever commit suicide, I want the record to reflect that I did not kill myself. If this should come to pass, I will have died from a chronic illness called Major Depressive Disorder. And anyone who believes that I must burn in hell should I die from this disease does not understand that G*d does not punish the sick because of their illness.
I have to believe that.
On October 25th, my daughter and I were visiting my parents in Colorado. We were about to catch a flight back to Texas and we had a few hours to kill. So we took my daughter to a park to tire her out before the flight. There were no kids in the park, so she asked me to play with her. At some point I went down a slide, less than six foot long and at the bottom, my right foot went violently one way and I went the other. I shattered the fibula and broke the tibia. I must have done a good job - they kept bringing medical students in to see.
From that moment until sometime yesterday morning (I was briefly filled with hope on the night of November 4th; by the 5th, I was back in my dungeon.) I have been in a depression deeper than any I have previously experienced. I have no idea what happened yesterday that lifted me. Maybe it is because I tried to journal. Maybe the prayers worked. I don't think it was the meds; I have consistently taken the my medications and not missed a day.
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I have had depressive episodes ever since puberty. Its pretty clear that around that time my biochemistry changed somehow and the neurotransmitters in my brain ceased to function normally with respect to mood. Everything else seems fine; I'm not so good at math, but I've always tested as gifted with language. I must be okay socially, people really do seem to like me and want to be around me. So I'm not that abnormal.
I just sometimes think that not only is the glass half empty, I believe I am powerless to refill it and there is no hope of it ever being filled again. My intelligence, the rational part of my mind knows this is not true. But emotionally I cannot, at times, grasp that fact.
Those who are in recovery will recognize the description of alcohol as "cunning, baffling and powerful." That is an apt description of the disease of depression as well. One of the most terrifying aspects of depression is that you can be taking an antidepressant successfully for a number of years and it works for you - and then one day it just stops working. Bam. No change in circumstance or life but the bottom falls out from under you and you are just trapped.
The process of finding a new medication that works just sucks. Imagine months of trying meds and living with side effects hoping, praying that this one will normalize your biochemistry so that you can function. Sometimes you start feeling better - the mood is good, the medication seems to be helping - but you come to realize that you can't live with the side effects - maybe it makes you to exhausted to function - and it's back to the drawing board.
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I am a Wiccan. We believe that we, all of us, can interact with Divinity (however one conceives of Divinity). We believe in Magick, the process of co-creating with Divinity. We believe that we can shape our lives and our destinies by shaping the energies within ourselves.
It does not appear to work that way for me with depression. For some reason, I can't seem to reprogram those neurological circuits to accept hope. Sometimes it works for a little while, but it always seems to fade.
Depression can and will cut spiritual bonds between self and others, between self and Divinity. The isolation seems absolute when I experience it.
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Sometimes other people, some well meaning, some just insensitive amplify the depression by what they say.
From religious people (Wiccans and Christians) I get the most amazing garbage:
You should quit taking those pills; they prevent God working in your life.
It does not matter if you are depressed, if you kill yourself, God will put you in hell. It is the only thing you can do that is unforgivable to God.
Medications like that are really bad for your energy. Have you tried herbal remedies?
Being in Circle with people on medications really messes with my energy. They should either stop taking medications or not come to Circle.
I am in a recovery program for alcoholism. I have just short of seven years of sobriety under my belt - and I recognize that I could not have done that without a Higher Power. So it is just wonderful to be told:
Well, you take mood altering drugs, so you really aren't sober.
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Some things about depression:
- If I could just "shake it off" I would. Believe me, I don't like feeling this way, I don't want to feel this way and if I knew how to stop it I would. Honest to Goddess, if you could prove to me that sawing my right hand off with a hacksaw would end these feelings, I would do it - that would be a great trade, believe me (Note: I have no intention of trying this experiment. This is a hyperbolic hypothetical).
- I know I have it good - I have a job, a beautiful, healthy daughter, a place to live. My broken ankle will heal and I will be physically healthy again. Reminding me of these things does not help at all. Scolding me for not appreciating what I have is not helpful.
Depression is not rational. I cannot negotiate, bargain or reason with it. And when people tell me things like this, they become one more reason to believe I am worthless and that the world would do better without me. If that is not your goal, STFU.
- Depression steals your energy. You feel tired and helpless and do not want to do anything at all. So telling me I have to take action to change how I feel may be true - but when I can barely bring myself to get out of bed to get food, it seems impossible to believe that I can ever do anything to change my situation.
- Depression deceives. It shades your perception. Should I write a diary that gets 60 positive comments and one negative one... guess which comment I will notice and remember (that does not make the person who made the comment a bad person - this is my own mind deceiving me. It is not the commenter's responsibility to evaluate my mental state before responding).
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What helps with depression? I imagine this answer will vary from person to person. But here are the things that help me - in no particular order:
- Exercise. It makes a huge difference.
- Diet - less preservatives, less processed foods really do seem to have a mildly beneficial effect. I have not yet tried going to no processed foods, but that might be a reasonable course of action.
- Therapy. Having someone who can impartially and rationally hold a mirror to the irrational thoughts running through your head helps.
- Psychiatric care. I honestly believe that antidepressants, for all their imperfections and defects, have been the biggest contributor to my having a decent quality of life.
- Prayer/Meditation/Journaling. Maybe not to your taste, but again, a big part of my having a healthy life.
- Friends and Family. Not babying me, but just being there.
- Helping others. Being of service to others always lifts my mood.
- Being in nature. Leaving suburbs and city behind always, always helps. One of the reasons I am a Wiccan is because of this connection to nature.
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Biggest Fears:
When my wife and I finally separate, who will ever want to be with someone with problems like this? This thought terrifies me.
How will I ever find a better job with this illness? How can I ask others to believe in me when I don't believe in me?
How can I be a good father when my depression consumes me like this?
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Grimmest recognition:
My depression has impacted my life in powerful ways. There is no question I have never lived up to my potential. I have always second guessed and short changed myself. I never tried to return to law school. I never pursued a writing career.
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This time, the depression was bad. I had the suicidal ideation, the plan in place to do it and had started to put it into action. I think the painkillers robbed me of the energy to carry it out.
I'm talking to my therapist, my psychiatrist. I need to call my sponsor. I have been active in my Coven. I am journaling. I am praying. These are all positives, things that help. Will they be enough to get me through the next time? I hope so. I really want to watch my daughter grow up. There is a mountain in Colorado I want to climb. I'd like to write a book.
Please, Goddess, help carry me through...
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Take a moment please, and pray for those who do not make it. In 2001 there were 499,000 deaths by suicide in developed countries.
Half a million people. Wow.
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UPDATE This is the most accurate description of depression I have ever heard. From Dreaming of Better Days in the comments and quoted from An Unquiet Mind: A Memoir of Moods and Madness by Dr. Kay R. Jamison, Professor of Psychiatry at Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine:
Depression is awful beyond words or sounds or images; I would not go through an extended one again. It bleeds relationships through suspicion, lack of confidence and self-respect, the inability to enjoy life, to walk or talk or think normally, the exhaustion, the night terrors, the day terrors. There is nothing good to be said for it except that it gives you the experience of how it must be to be old, to be old and sick, to be slow of mind; to be lacking in grace, polish, and coordination; to be ugly; to have no belief in the possibilities of life, the pleasures of sex, the exquisiteness of music, or the ability to make yourself and others laugh.
Others imply that they know what it is like to be depressed because they have gone through a divorce, lost a job, or broken up with someone. But these experiences carry with them feelings. Depression, instead, is flat, hollow, and unendurable. It is also tiresome. People cannot abide being around you when you are depressed. They might think that they ought to, and they might even try, but you know and they know that you are tedious beyond belief; you’re irritable and paranoid and humorless and lifeless and critical and demanding and no reassurance is ever enough. You’re frightened, and you’re frightening, and you’re "not at all like yourself but will be soon," but you know you won’t.