How Do You Open a Discussion...
...About depression?
No really, how do you sit there with a friend chatting about kids and family and the mundanity of your lives, and then just pop off with "I'm depressed" and have them take you seriously?
How do you open that line of conversation with your spouse? How do you let them know that no, you aren't just tired. You aren't just lonely or stressed about something, you're not just a hypochondriac. You need them to help you, and support you, and motivate you to get through each and every day.
How do you explain it to people? That every day you force yourself to get out of bed; that all day long all you want is to cry and give up; that every inch of your body feels like it has lead weights attached to it all day long; that you sit there and stare at the pile of cat puke on the floor, then walk past it several times during the day because it's just too much fucking effort to get a paper towel and clean it up! How do you tell them that you can't even do third grade math in your head anymore because you can't stay focused and the numbers just slip away, you cna't even remember how old you are some days. That nothing makes you smile anymore, not real smiles or real laughs, the kind that relax your whole body and make you feel good... only the false "everything's fine here, move along" kind of smiles.
I just don't know. Part of the problem is that they are so busy with their own lives. Part is that you don't want to worry them. Part is that you already know what they'll say. Cheer up! Oh, I'm so sorry! You should go see a doctor and get medicated!
No one really knows what to say when someone is depressed. Ever since Alex was born I have been struggling with this thing. It wasn't so bad at first, I thought maybe it was just postpartum blues and so long as I didn't start considering hurting him I would be fine without help. Then I thought, maybe it's just the lack of sleep? He kept us awake a lot the first 18 months, and 5 hours of sleep a night over a year and a half would make anyone depressed. But he sleeps great now, and I'm pretty sure my hormones have recovered from pregnancy at this point. When people ask why I sound "down" I just tell them it's the weather; which is pretty legitimate here in Oregon. It rains ten months of the year, it is always grey, and generally cold too. Even on sunny days, I have trouble. Less than on grey days, but it's still there.
I don't like doctors, any time I go to see one they run some sort of standardized test on me, tell me they don't know what's wrong and send me on my way. Last summer I was having heart palpitations, racing pulse, chest tightness, and faintness/dizziness. They ran blood tests and checked my heart on an ECG. They found nothing wrong with me. Of course, I wasn't having any symptoms that day either. I figure they were just panic attacks, and I ignore them now so I don't panic more that I might be dying of something.
I don't want to go to a doctor about the depression. I don't want to take anti-depressants and become one more of the unnamed millions who have to take drugs daily to cope with life. I feel like this is something new and the mass of depression in our nation right now is a symptom of our culture, and if I could just figure it out maybe I could fix it for myself. I took Wellbutrin for a short time several years back, trying to quit smoking. I found the sensation disconcerting, like I was just playing a video game of life, rather than actually being a part of it. I decided to stop taking it when I realized that I didn't care if my car ran off the road while I was driving because I didn't feel like I was really in it. It was not a good thing to realize, and I decided I didn't want to try anti-depressants again.
I just want someone to talk to about it. Someone who understands and will know the right things to say to help me cope. Because I may be depressed, but I'm also lonely, and stressed, and feel unappreciated, and am a bit of a hypochondriac. And maybe, if someone helped me work through those feelings and supported me by validating those feelings I would be in a better position mentally to manage the depression.
I came to the realization that it was getting worse yesterday. I dragged myself out of bed. I had three things to do that day: fold a load of laundry, wash the few dishes in the sink, and clean out the fridge. I actually had to pump myself up with "I can do this. I can do this!" to get those things done. And I kept staring at the cat puke on the floor the whole time like it would clean itself up; like picking up the cat puke and throwing it away would be the straw that finally broke my back.
Last year I caught myself thinking many many times about just driving away, nothing beyond that, just getting in the car and putting it in drive and escaping my husband, my kids, the house, the cats, the chores, the appointments, everything. I really considered abandoning it all.
This year the thoughts have changed. I talked myself out of that idea, and instead find myself thinking about just taking the cats to an animal shelter. It would save me so much frustration. I wouldn't have to feed them, or take them to the vet, or get them water, or clean the cat box, or suffer through my allergies, or have a pet door that the neighbor cat uses to sneak into our house and eat the cat food and piss on my walls! In my mind getting rid of the cats would be so much easier. The reality is that my family would never forgive me though, and if I gave in to the depression and got rid of the cats what would stop me from giving into it and hurting my kids? or leaving my husband? or (god forbid it gets this bad) hurting or killing myself?
I have to draw the line, I have to fight back and tell the depression that fine, it can have laundry day and turn it into laundry week; it can have the outings to the park on sunny days; it can even have my enjoyment of my favorite foods and my ability to fit into my clothes; but I am keeping the cats.
I'm scared. It hurts to do things, I'm afraid of everything; everything I could do to feel better is so daunting that I decide not to do it. I feel like a prisoner in my house; but a prisoner who has a key to the prison door and the warden's permission to escape... yet stays in the prison because it offers security.
The only thing I know I can do is write. So I'm writing this.
No really, how do you sit there with a friend chatting about kids and family and the mundanity of your lives, and then just pop off with "I'm depressed" and have them take you seriously?
How do you open that line of conversation with your spouse? How do you let them know that no, you aren't just tired. You aren't just lonely or stressed about something, you're not just a hypochondriac. You need them to help you, and support you, and motivate you to get through each and every day.
How do you explain it to people? That every day you force yourself to get out of bed; that all day long all you want is to cry and give up; that every inch of your body feels like it has lead weights attached to it all day long; that you sit there and stare at the pile of cat puke on the floor, then walk past it several times during the day because it's just too much fucking effort to get a paper towel and clean it up! How do you tell them that you can't even do third grade math in your head anymore because you can't stay focused and the numbers just slip away, you cna't even remember how old you are some days. That nothing makes you smile anymore, not real smiles or real laughs, the kind that relax your whole body and make you feel good... only the false "everything's fine here, move along" kind of smiles.
I just don't know. Part of the problem is that they are so busy with their own lives. Part is that you don't want to worry them. Part is that you already know what they'll say. Cheer up! Oh, I'm so sorry! You should go see a doctor and get medicated!
No one really knows what to say when someone is depressed. Ever since Alex was born I have been struggling with this thing. It wasn't so bad at first, I thought maybe it was just postpartum blues and so long as I didn't start considering hurting him I would be fine without help. Then I thought, maybe it's just the lack of sleep? He kept us awake a lot the first 18 months, and 5 hours of sleep a night over a year and a half would make anyone depressed. But he sleeps great now, and I'm pretty sure my hormones have recovered from pregnancy at this point. When people ask why I sound "down" I just tell them it's the weather; which is pretty legitimate here in Oregon. It rains ten months of the year, it is always grey, and generally cold too. Even on sunny days, I have trouble. Less than on grey days, but it's still there.
I don't like doctors, any time I go to see one they run some sort of standardized test on me, tell me they don't know what's wrong and send me on my way. Last summer I was having heart palpitations, racing pulse, chest tightness, and faintness/dizziness. They ran blood tests and checked my heart on an ECG. They found nothing wrong with me. Of course, I wasn't having any symptoms that day either. I figure they were just panic attacks, and I ignore them now so I don't panic more that I might be dying of something.
I don't want to go to a doctor about the depression. I don't want to take anti-depressants and become one more of the unnamed millions who have to take drugs daily to cope with life. I feel like this is something new and the mass of depression in our nation right now is a symptom of our culture, and if I could just figure it out maybe I could fix it for myself. I took Wellbutrin for a short time several years back, trying to quit smoking. I found the sensation disconcerting, like I was just playing a video game of life, rather than actually being a part of it. I decided to stop taking it when I realized that I didn't care if my car ran off the road while I was driving because I didn't feel like I was really in it. It was not a good thing to realize, and I decided I didn't want to try anti-depressants again.
I just want someone to talk to about it. Someone who understands and will know the right things to say to help me cope. Because I may be depressed, but I'm also lonely, and stressed, and feel unappreciated, and am a bit of a hypochondriac. And maybe, if someone helped me work through those feelings and supported me by validating those feelings I would be in a better position mentally to manage the depression.
I came to the realization that it was getting worse yesterday. I dragged myself out of bed. I had three things to do that day: fold a load of laundry, wash the few dishes in the sink, and clean out the fridge. I actually had to pump myself up with "I can do this. I can do this!" to get those things done. And I kept staring at the cat puke on the floor the whole time like it would clean itself up; like picking up the cat puke and throwing it away would be the straw that finally broke my back.
Last year I caught myself thinking many many times about just driving away, nothing beyond that, just getting in the car and putting it in drive and escaping my husband, my kids, the house, the cats, the chores, the appointments, everything. I really considered abandoning it all.
This year the thoughts have changed. I talked myself out of that idea, and instead find myself thinking about just taking the cats to an animal shelter. It would save me so much frustration. I wouldn't have to feed them, or take them to the vet, or get them water, or clean the cat box, or suffer through my allergies, or have a pet door that the neighbor cat uses to sneak into our house and eat the cat food and piss on my walls! In my mind getting rid of the cats would be so much easier. The reality is that my family would never forgive me though, and if I gave in to the depression and got rid of the cats what would stop me from giving into it and hurting my kids? or leaving my husband? or (god forbid it gets this bad) hurting or killing myself?
I have to draw the line, I have to fight back and tell the depression that fine, it can have laundry day and turn it into laundry week; it can have the outings to the park on sunny days; it can even have my enjoyment of my favorite foods and my ability to fit into my clothes; but I am keeping the cats.
I'm scared. It hurts to do things, I'm afraid of everything; everything I could do to feel better is so daunting that I decide not to do it. I feel like a prisoner in my house; but a prisoner who has a key to the prison door and the warden's permission to escape... yet stays in the prison because it offers security.
The only thing I know I can do is write. So I'm writing this.
posted by AnywhereEden | 9:49 AM
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