I have no
appetite, which is a crazy symptom. I love food. I love cooking food. Sure,
some days I dont want to cook at all, but for the most part, I will still make
something simple. I will usually wake up thinking about what I feel like
eating. But I dont feel like eating anything. There is nothing of interest,
despite food in plenty, in the kitchen.
Yesterday was a
horrible day. I'd say it was a 3. My mood was sullen. I didn't have any
motivation, though I did get around to doing things in spurts. My back hurt
severe. Now, given that I have an
ongoing back and hamstring problem, that doesn't surprise me. However, I could
barely move, so I chose not to!
I kept analyzing
myself all day, wondering if this would be a plague for the rest of my life.
Wondering if any man would bother with me if I took these fits of darkness.
Wondering how I was going to ever manage to be a mom on these sort of days. I
compared it a lot to having a cold or the flu; remembering Lori managing twins
while facing a migraine or something that just sucks the life out of you.
I didnt come to
any sort of conclusion, or gain answers. There are hundreds of women who suffer
from some form of depression that live in our world and they accomplish much.
They dont just sit and wither. I want to be that woman. I recognize there will
be difficult days and I guess the challenge is to just face them head on.
How can you explain to someone who doesnt know
what its like to be fighting an internal battle. And though it doesnt really
manifest itself in a physical sense, it feels like your inside is trying to
destroy your outside.
I know its
mostly in my head, but the attack feels physical. There is no particular place
within where the pain comes from. Its just there, all over. Like its carried in
my cells or in my blood or something. I cant properly explain it. All I know
is that its debilitating.
I look back on
life before I accepted the medication, and I see how bad at times it got. I
remember the summer of 2008 and being in Edmonton working at Second Cup and
house sitting for friends and trying to visit others. They were all worried
about me, and I see it in myself now. I was a mess. I was a complete disaster.
And I focused a lot on my circumstances: my job, my finances, my future. To me
it was a huge spiritual battle because I felt like I was up against and unseen
force of evil. Little did I realize that the evil was within me; slowly soaking
my strength and stealing my sanity.
It took me three
more years before I came to accept the need for medication. I just didnt
understand and the stereotype of anti depressants was just so bad. I do
remember trying meds in NS in Spring 2009, but they didnt seem to do much to
help. But then I consider I was getting ready to transition back to Ottawa. My
transient lifestyle is a great mask for what lurks deep inside me. I am an
experience junkie, and the excitement of an upcoming change tends to keep the
darkness at bay. Its not until I start to gain a proper and healthy routine
that I notice there is something severely wrong within me.
Thats why it took me
until mid January this year to recognize the symptoms had returned.
I went off my meds sometime in November, because a friend casually said to me one day, "Its time you get off your meds too..." Immediately the social stigma of being on anti depressants cowered me and I quit that day. I can do this I told myself, Im strong enough now to fight through.
December is a full write off. Im pretty sure anyone can agree, for multiple reasons. Christmas in N.America is energy and time and money sapping. Weve completely destroyed the essence of the holiday and weve got ourselves entangled in some ridiculous unhealthy fanfare. We have parties to celebrate one another, and the end of another "successful" year, and yet we are all dragging our feet and covering the dark circles under our eyes because weve taken on way too much to properly enjoy any of it.
December is a full write off. Im pretty sure anyone can agree, for multiple reasons. Christmas in N.America is energy and time and money sapping. Weve completely destroyed the essence of the holiday and weve got ourselves entangled in some ridiculous unhealthy fanfare. We have parties to celebrate one another, and the end of another "successful" year, and yet we are all dragging our feet and covering the dark circles under our eyes because weve taken on way too much to properly enjoy any of it.
Right after
Christmas, I went on a cleanse. My body doesnt respond well to processed food
chuck full of preservatives. So, I started a cleanse of cabbage soup. It didnt
take long for me to see that I was depleting my body of essential vitamins in
the midst of this cleanse, and I was very irritable.
Proteins and
carbs are a very important part of our daily living: everything in moderation.
So, by taking
out both, I basically became impossible to live with - and thats me feeling
impossible with myself. I was going out of my mind. But I pressed on - for
health reasons (how does THAT make sense?). And after the cabbage soup cleanse
came the juicing program, which also amplified the disaster taking place
internally. I blamed it on the food for twelve days, until I didnt have the will power anymore.
Finally one day
I just ate. I ate bacon and eggs for dinner Sunday night, because thats what
my grandparents do. And the next morning I felt much better. Much more balanced
and human. I didnt want to rip everyones head off!!!! I preached the importance of balanced diet, and thought all my problems were solved.
However, it was
less than a week before I recognized that I still didnt have my head out of the
gloomy cloud. I was still struggling. And it was then that I finally began to
see that my symptoms of "depression" had returned. I needed my meds!
I hate the term
"depression"
We have really
done a disservice to our society by calling it that. Im not "sad" nor
am I "unhappy or despairing about life"
Of COURSE there
are things Id like to change, but when Im having a dark day, its not my
circumstances I want to change. Its whats going on inside me that I need to
change. Its like when you have the flu, or malaria, or when kids have chicken
pox. Its painful, and all you want is for it to end. You know it should end
soon, but in the moment, it just consumes. However, unlike the flu or chicken
pox, this "depression" causes you to wonder if it will ever end. And
the longer it goes unchecked, uncared for, the more you begin to consider all
the other facets of life and slowly start to feel hopeless.
Im not hopeless.
I have a million things to be thankful for. Some days I fight with God and
wonder if He has forgotten me because another year has passed and this
definitely isnt the life I would have chosen for myself. Or I am angry because
people die, women remain barren, children starve on one side of the planet
while others throw away the foods they dont like. BUT, in all of
these moments and in all of my reality, I still have way more to be happy with
and to enjoy and to love and to laugh about. Im not "depressed" as we
traditionally associate the word.
I have a
disease. Is that okay to call it that? I cant think of any other way to put it.
Maybe I could call it a virus instead. But I have begun to see that its one
that will be with me for the rest of my life - not something that comes and
goes and mutates, like a cold or the flu or bronchitis. So, disease it is. And
as such, I have to approach my future with an honest evaluation that there will
be days when I am just not up to par. And when I say par, I mean my own
standard.
Thats another
thing that Im learning, and want to share: I can't let society or my community
or even my closest friends determine what is expected of me. I know myself well
enough to be my own worst critic. I will gladly accept support, correction and
encouragement. But 'par' for me is not the same as 'par' for Clara Hughes or
any other person who has struggled with a mental health issue.
Par for me is
accepting that its winter in Canada. I had forgotten the extreme toll this
season takes on my mental and physical state (having been in Africa last
winter).
I am also living
in a rural community where some days (like today) its just not feasible nor
safe to get out of the driveway and on to the roads. Being housebound sounds
appealing until its going on day five. Then I have to dig deep and force myself
to bundle up and fight against my own self to go visit people.
Im also caring
for my beautiful grandparents who are aging and slowing down considerably, and
that too takes an invisible emotional toll.
When I express that Im content with my life, its not a "power of positive thinking" sort of comment. Its an honest admission of where I am at right now. Sometimes it just takes me a
bit of analyzing before I can weed out the fleshy sort of humanistic longings
and see my life for what it really is. My medication balance is a daily work in progress. And some times I will have
low days. Some days I wont sleep well at night so I will want to sleep all day.
Some days my arms will feel weak and I wont have much muscle strength to get on
the tredmill or lift the weights to work out. That is my reality: I have a
disease that attempts to steal the joy of my tremendously blessed life. And some days the fight to win against the disease will just be harder than others. Today the battle is easier, which is why Im finally getting around to write this long overdue post!
Off to watch the Olympics! Go Canada Go!!!!
It *is* a disease, and one with very physiological manifestations. Be gentle with you. Hugs from here... LB
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