I’ve been very diligent in taking my medications over this past weekend. My depression is held at bay, yet the anxiety worms through the cracks like stubborn weeds.
I spent the weekend at Disneyland with my sister celebrating her birthday. It was so nice to get away and be in a new place. During our time, we had a lot of heartfelt conversations…we dived deep into emotions and thoughts of the past and present…and hopes about our futures. We have such similar emotional responses to things. It’s comforting that there’s someone like me but also worrisome: I don’t want her going through the things I have.
I know I have zero control over how my sister feels and reacts to things…I just hope that I can be a resource she knows she has within her reach.
So thankful for the good times.
I have forgotten my medication for the past 2 days and lately the effects are a lot less forgiving than before.
The nightmares have me waking up in a cold sweat full of fear. The days drag on and in them comes anxiety that grips my insides…moments that have me frozen in a state of insurmountable panic. I stare off in a daze until it passes.
I’ve somehow managed to drive home completely unaware of how I did it.
But…I can only blame myself for forgetting something I can’t live normally without.
What I wanted, frankly, was someone who would argue me out of the things that I was thinking. -Agatha Christie, The Pale Horse
…As I take this pill I also take with it the fear that my life is inextricably tied to it.
It’s as much a part of my life as anything could be and I’m bitterly grateful.
I got the privilege to interview a very close friend of mine. Sometimes you meet someone and you just click; as if your own life story was on their bookshelf and they understand you. That’s what Coral has been to me. Many thanks to her for this opportunity…
How would you describe your association with mental health?
When you grow up poor mental health is viewed as a luxury – when your family is struggling to meet basic human needs mental health becomes an ailment for the privileged and wealthy. Not only growing up poor but also Catholic, mental health is not only seen as a ‘luxury’ but shameful and something viewed as a ‘dirty’ family secret. Since I can recall I have experienced this internal battle between my own depression and the negative perception of mental health implemented on me as a child. Now in my mid 20’s with beliefs completely contradictory to those I was raised in, I still find a piece of myself interpreting my depression as a shameful burden to burry within which is completely contradictory to my education.
Have you ever tried to attribute your thoughts and feelings to reasons other than mental health issues? If so, why?
Most definitely! I think a woman’s experience with depression is much different than a man’s – primarily because of the gender stereotypes and characteristics society identifies as ‘female’. Women are inflicted with this intense pressure to always appear cheerful and welcoming, forever donning the perfect smile. A woman experiencing depression will obviously not abide by those guidelines so we are not only carrying the burden of our mental health, in my case depression, but we are carrying society’s standards as well. Prior to accepting my depression I would attribute my ‘episodes’ (as described by my family) as being overly exhausted or not eating enough or healthy enough or being ‘moody’ all of which I have come to learn are symptoms of depression. I think I would create these excuses because of the shame associated with mental health and because people expect certain behavior and characteristics from not only women but from Coral (me!).
How long have you dealt with issues of mental health, whether yourself or others?
I honestly believe I have been experiencing depression since my preteen years but due to the lack of conversation within my family I didn’t have the proper vocabulary to identify what I was experiencing. Now in my adult life I have found solace with my sister who also experiences depression.
What are some things people have said to you that helped you, and what were some things that were not helpful at all?
The two women closest to me, with the exception of my mother who doesn’t view mental health the same way as I do, have undoubtedly helped me. Their help isn’t from the things they say but more so the unwavering support and understanding. When I am experiencing depression I don’t need uplifting words – the power of having women in my life that understand what I am experiencing is invaluable.
“You have the power to get yourself out of your funk”
“You’re choosing to be like this, snap out of it”
“You just want an excuse to be down”
Those are some things I’ve been told that obviously do not help when you’re depressed and are said by people ignorant to mental health.
What would you like to say to your younger self if you had the chance?
Pull the power you have deeply stored within your being – and remember there is an essence to being a woman that cannot be snuffed, especially a woman with experiences both good and bad. You got this bitch.
I’m so excited to share something I have in the works.
I’ll be interviewing some friends, family and others and those interviews will be featured on Fridays (not every Friday because, you know, life).
The interviews will be Friday Features and I can’t wait to share with you their thoughts, feelings and stories.
Standby for some awesomeness.
-Jenn Black Lake, Ilwaco, WA.
This past week has been a battle of will and inner strength. I felt at times my strength was as useless as tissue paper…frail and so ready to tear at the slightest bit of pressure.
The days seemed to prolong itself and I lived in this state of a perpetual rewinding of my fears and playing them back to myself again.
I managed to push them back far enough to laugh and engage with others, but like oil I’d watch it ooze back and surround me in its suffocating grip.
I haven’t been willing to exercise or been able to keep an appetite, which are the things you WANT to maintain in times of dark depression. Things just seem to slip away from me.
This weight is so unbelievably heavy…I feel for those that carry things too…because there is no one else who can.
Today, as I write this, I have Kona asleep on my lap. Listening to her sleepy breathing and watching her side rise and fall in a calming rhythm, I am almost transported to a place of future promise of peace. There is peace for me beyond this past week.
Maybe not next week, or the next…but soon.
Listening to Crystals by Of Monsters and Men…
Sometimes, you should have seen it coming.
The events in life that are just giant piles of “omg wtf”.
It knocks the wind out of you, emotionally and physically.
At first you think, “How can this be happening?” Then, when you’ve had the chance to find the parts of your mind that fell apart, you can look back and just see how it could be. “Of course,” you say to yourself.
It doesn’t change the fact that your mind felt like it was going to break, or that your heart was going to fall from its precious shelf in your chest…Now you have to start over. Get yourself back to the normalcy that you know.
I hate that. The starting over. It takes so long to climb out of that well of self-doubt and depression. I revel in the moments where I’m not anxious about something because those moments are like sugar in my mouth…until I bite down on a grain of sand suddenly.
And here again, out of this endless, dark chasm I climb.
I can say most assuredly that I spend about 80% of my time worrying about tomorrow and thinking about the past. I’ve been this way all of my life.
I have always envied the characters in books who live and breathe by that ‘live in the now’ mentality.
Spontaneity is not a trait I possess. In fact the only thing I can do spontaneously, is worry.
So lately, I’ve been trying to shift my focus (believe me, it takes a lot of commitment) to the present. Enjoy right now. It seems easier than it really is.
One of the things that has helped is getting outdoors to take photos. I have a Nikon DSLR that I have zero idea on how to use but, I’m not trying to work for National Geographic. I’m embracing being a complete amateur and I find myself enjoying the day and the fresh air.
Looking through the lense I forget about the things I have to do, or the things I have been through.
Whatever helps, right? 🙂
This Seaside dude graciously allowed me to shoot him this morning. And that surfer didn’t have a choice.
When it comes to depression, it’s typically the same manifestations: No energy, the desire to do nothing but sleep, and trying to tear myself away from the world.
Anxiety, however, presents itself within so many characters. One in particular is my fear of happiness.
What I mean is, I’m not afraid to be happy. I’m fearful that if I am happy, something bad HAS to happen, simply because nothing can be perfect.
I have a very good life now, and I recently thought to myself, “I have nothing to complain about…” and immediately after I started to feel that fuzziness, the static in my chest. The feeling that something bad is about to happen and the darkness that makes you so sure.
This particular anxiety, that something has to be wrong for all to be okay, has existed since I was a teenager. My parent’s divorce, followed by a tumultuous relationship with my mother and father, set into motion what will become a pattern of expecting things to be broken.
I hope it is something that in time will dissipate but meanwhile I will be consistently trying to tell myself it’s okay to be happy.
It’s okay to be happy.
The day I was prescribed my SNRI, I felt as though I had officially given up. I couldn’t help but feel like I wasn’t a normal person that could deal with life…I needed this crutch now. I was so defeated. My Doc told me it was only temporary while I worked with a therapist. As much as I know it can be beneficial, up to now the drugs help me the most.
What doesn’t help though? PEOPLE sometimes.
Let’s be honest, some people just know best, right? They’ve seen it all, and even if they haven’t, they know someone who has so here they are with their golden chalice full of precious wisdom. I don’t even ASK and they pour out their opinions. I typically smile and nod, thank them and move on. However it really doesn’t help me in my quest not to feel like I’m a weak individual with zero will-power.
“Just choose to be happy.”
“We all get depressed! You just have to not focus on it.”
“It’s not that bad; it could be worse.”
-Everyone that has zero experience with depression.
If you don’t suffer from depression, please understand it’s not a choice we made to be bummed all the time. We aren’t wallowing in our misery and we don’t need to “start being grateful and stop pouting”.
If getting over it was an option…oh if only it were.
A lot of times when I try to describe my depression (I emphasize mine because another’s case doesn’t necessarily manifest the same) I struggle. “How can I explain something I don’t even fully understand?” I question myself. Well I try the best I can…all the while thankful for my active imagination.
I call it (dun-dun-dunnn!): The Shadow.
Those days where everything on the outside is fine and my life looks fine and the customer service people are even being nice, I feel it. It’s connected to me and I can’t step or run away. I can laugh and enjoy myself, but in the pause of a breath, it’s in my field of vision again..reminding me.
The only time I don’t feel it is when I can’t feel anything…The Shadow has finally caught up and enveloped me. It’s wet and heavy and I’m a sinking boat beneath it. These are the days that I exist as a part of the couch. I become a fixture, an almost inanimate object in my own life.
The dark and oily Shadow is more familiar to me than the sound of my own name, yet I resent its presence and the effect it has on me.
I like to imagine my daily little pill dressed up like a medicinal Mr. Spock…guarding my brain’s rusty-hinged door with a straight face and serious determination.