Depression Sucks. Not just metaphorically. I mean it sucks the life right out of you. It slows every process in your body down. Was mine major? Nope. But it has certainly interfered with my life and continues to try. I’m beating it back though. Most days are good. But it’s always there, lurking and waiting to rear its ugly head.
But, Meghan, you don’t seem sad. You have a lot going for you. How can you be depressed?
It’s a sickness of the brain. Like any mental illness, my neurons don’t always fire the way God designed them to. So, in my case, my thoughts are slowed somewhat, but mostly still there and just fine. My body lags. Sometimes it’s all I can do to get a shower and make sure that Alex is where he needs to be and has some sort of food in his growing body.
Write? Nope. Too hard.
Clean? Too hard.
Answer the phone? You’ve got to be kidding me. Maybe a text, but no promises.
My “to do list” is rarely very long. But Depression will put up a brick wall between my organized self and my ability to get off my butt and get it done. How do I get this wall out of the way? For me, St. John’s Wort is very effective. But like anything, you have to actually take it for it to help. A number of years ago, I saw a therapist when I realized Depression wouldn’t go away on its own. My health insurance was crappy and a number of respectable studies had come out saying that St. John’s Wort was actually effective for mild to moderate depression. She told me to try it, as it would be cheaper than a formal prescription. If it didn’t work, she’d prescribe something stronger. It worked. I was on Prozac for a while after Alex was born. That worked too, but it made me feel flat, rather than reconnecting my head to my body the way St. John’s Wort does.
Anyway, it works for me as long as I take it religiously. For several years I didn’t. And I slid down that hill of disconnection and crankiness. Life circumstances didn’t help either. Craig has been hospitalized twice in that time period. The first one was a nightmare of a time in our lives. He’d done everything right by taking meds and going to his appointments, but the NP didn’t seem to get that things were going very very badly. The last time was much better. The new NP understood immediately that Craig needed a change and called for an ambulance before it was a big problem.
Raising a child isn’t easy. Raising a child with a man who can’t work and Depression trying to tell me I can’t work either, is even harder.
Now? Now, I’m moving again. My home is less trashed. My family is often fed healthier meals. Business is moving again.
Hmm. Funny how treating an illness actually can make it better rather than ignoring it. I’m done letting it suck the life out of me. I’m ready to live again.