Reaching out is the most difficult part
Apparently in spite of all the good things in my life I am currently caught, again, in the tight grip of depression. While I've experienced it most of my life, I can't always recognize that is has me until I'm well imprisoned by it's firm hold. One minute I'm laughing and enjoying the little things in life, the next I'm struggling with ugly, broken thoughts. And like pieces of glass in my head, the thoughts cut into the flesh and leave me bleeding only darkness.
When I am in a depressive state I am not sad all the time. There isn't some large black cloud that follows me everywhere. If we are to compare it to weather, which I usually do not, I honestly feel soothed by the darkness because the sunshine is too much a reminder of what I should or could be. Depression for me is eating to try to fill the empty spaces inside. It's denying the sunshine by closing all the blinds. It's sitting at the dining room table with Jesse's family and my own daughter and feeling so disconnected that I could be thousands of miles away for all that I can contribute. It's thoughts that spring wings in my head but die before they make it past my language center. It's coffee with no taste and hugs with no arms. Then there is that other offender to my well-being...Anxiety.
If depression is my wanting to always be asleep, anxiety is a gnat buzzing in my head flashing (sometimes false) PTSD-like memories of falling down a flight of stairs,imagining my accidentally cutting my finger off while simply going over the prep in my mind of a menu for the next day's dinner, wondering why this person hasn't spoken to me in awhile and going over our last conversation to remember if I said something wrong, writing and rewriting a paper for school several times then checking my grades online like a stalker, worrying that people don't like me... Stopping all those intrusive thoughts by forcing myself to think of something, anything, else but then having the same thoughts come back again. It's every fear, everyday in between the pauses of depression.
And it's f*cking exhausting! Depression is trying to lull me to sleep with it's dark and warm silence while anxiety is bouncing from one foot to the other reminding me in high pitched shrieks of everything terrible that could happen if I take a chance. In depression I could stay calm and indifferent to what my mind is telling me the world feels about me. Yet in anxiety I'm constantly being roused by fear of what other people think or will say about me. It reminds me that I could fail all my college courses, that I won't have any friends if I stay being this broken me. It's fight or flight all the damn time. At times anxiety works hand in hand with depression to warn me to abandon my words....Like it is doing at this very moment as I write this because depression says "it doesn't matter. No one cares." and anxiety warns "Don't worry people. You'll regret speaking out tomorrow."
The dialogue between my anxiety and depression goes on incessantly. I try to block out their voices by forcing myself to be positive, by getting out of the house, keeping up with my college work, enjoying my daughter's return to California. Often I watch silly videos on the internet to quiet down all the noise, listen to music, watch television. Facebook used to be a good distraction when I was feeling low. It's the one place that I can catch up with old friends, find inspiration in posts and play mindless games. Lately though it has gotten to be too much. Posts by friends of exciting things going on in their life make me feel happiness for them...but it also makes me feel all the anguish of where I am stuck in my life. More disturbing though is that my newsfeed is overwhelmed by posts about tragedies in the world and the hate born from people fearing other countries, ethnic backgrounds, religions,etc. (Have you ever noticed that the most hateful of people are the loudest???) Politics too. Instead of people posting the positives about the candidate they support, some people are constantly putting down the other party. As someone with high I anxiety I try not to let fear drive me to hate anyone but alas too many people do and the stress continues. The differences in opinions isn't what bothers me at all. It's the bashing of one another person's opinion and candidate, the fear mongering and the hate. It's everywhere and it's like scribbles of a big thick crayon all over any shades of hope I can find.
I've thought of taking a break from the internet. After all, "unfollowing" people who spew hateful remarks can only get me so far. While social media can be great for reconnecting, staying in touch and posting to our friends, I've realized now that I've used it in the absence of real life connections. Go out and make friends, right? That is easier said than done. I've been here in a "new" state and town for over three years and except for Jesse's family I know no one. And I can tell you honestly that while a few of them and I have become friends, I am no closer to many of them now than I was when I met them. It's possible that it's just my own jaded perception of myself. Or maybe it's the loss of their Mom and my being here "instead". It's most likely just me. It's difficult to try to make people "like" or be comfortable with you when you're not comfortable or liking yourself. So that is why I don't step back completely from Fb. I would totally be isolating myself. My depression would love that.
I realize also that my depression isn't due simply to negativity from the "outside" world. Although it certainly piles onto my already struggling psyche, there is already enough self-doubt, fear and lack of self-esteem on good days. But when I'm depressed it's like I'm a walking, talking shape of a person with no real "person" inside. I start to feel the silence from friends as proof that I am worthless. Family forgetting my birthday or something I've told them shows me that I am simply not important. If I ask for attention to an issue I'm feeling I feel the weight of being a burden. I don't know how to express myself while depression smothers me in it's arms. A fog settles in around my brain making it difficult for me to understand the difference between people being busy and people writing me off. It's a war inside my head.
So go to a doctor, find a therapist, I tell myself when some of the darkness melts away. By the time my doctor is open for office hours I'm back under that darkness and it's telling me that no one can help me anyway. "You've been here before. All the therapy and medication didn't help any of the other 30 times..." Medications have only proved to cloud my thinking and, at times, made me suicidal. I'm not going back to "that" place.
Still somewhere amist all that darkness and negativity is a small voice that I can hear when this indifference or hyper-stress isn't blocking my ears. It wants to fight. I want to fight. I don't want to be hugged to death by depression anymore.
I don't want pity. I don't want to be treated differently than anyone else. I want to stop hearing all this noise. I want to stop listening to my depression telling me that no one cares and instead reach out for help before I fall completely under the strangling hold of this nothingness that has taken my brain hostage. I am reaching out now for a hand. It hurts me to ask for help...Still I don't think it's any different than if I was stuck under a car and crying out to be saved. I am stuck under a kind of vehicle really. It is my own brain...My illness.
So if anyone can hear me, I'm reaching out...A "hello", a real conversation, a reminder that I have more to contribute to this world than what my depression and anxiety are telling me. After all, we all need one another, don't we? I think that now more than ever we all need to love one another just a little bit more.
When I am in a depressive state I am not sad all the time. There isn't some large black cloud that follows me everywhere. If we are to compare it to weather, which I usually do not, I honestly feel soothed by the darkness because the sunshine is too much a reminder of what I should or could be. Depression for me is eating to try to fill the empty spaces inside. It's denying the sunshine by closing all the blinds. It's sitting at the dining room table with Jesse's family and my own daughter and feeling so disconnected that I could be thousands of miles away for all that I can contribute. It's thoughts that spring wings in my head but die before they make it past my language center. It's coffee with no taste and hugs with no arms. Then there is that other offender to my well-being...Anxiety.
If depression is my wanting to always be asleep, anxiety is a gnat buzzing in my head flashing (sometimes false) PTSD-like memories of falling down a flight of stairs,imagining my accidentally cutting my finger off while simply going over the prep in my mind of a menu for the next day's dinner, wondering why this person hasn't spoken to me in awhile and going over our last conversation to remember if I said something wrong, writing and rewriting a paper for school several times then checking my grades online like a stalker, worrying that people don't like me... Stopping all those intrusive thoughts by forcing myself to think of something, anything, else but then having the same thoughts come back again. It's every fear, everyday in between the pauses of depression.
And it's f*cking exhausting! Depression is trying to lull me to sleep with it's dark and warm silence while anxiety is bouncing from one foot to the other reminding me in high pitched shrieks of everything terrible that could happen if I take a chance. In depression I could stay calm and indifferent to what my mind is telling me the world feels about me. Yet in anxiety I'm constantly being roused by fear of what other people think or will say about me. It reminds me that I could fail all my college courses, that I won't have any friends if I stay being this broken me. It's fight or flight all the damn time. At times anxiety works hand in hand with depression to warn me to abandon my words....Like it is doing at this very moment as I write this because depression says "it doesn't matter. No one cares." and anxiety warns "Don't worry people. You'll regret speaking out tomorrow."
The dialogue between my anxiety and depression goes on incessantly. I try to block out their voices by forcing myself to be positive, by getting out of the house, keeping up with my college work, enjoying my daughter's return to California. Often I watch silly videos on the internet to quiet down all the noise, listen to music, watch television. Facebook used to be a good distraction when I was feeling low. It's the one place that I can catch up with old friends, find inspiration in posts and play mindless games. Lately though it has gotten to be too much. Posts by friends of exciting things going on in their life make me feel happiness for them...but it also makes me feel all the anguish of where I am stuck in my life. More disturbing though is that my newsfeed is overwhelmed by posts about tragedies in the world and the hate born from people fearing other countries, ethnic backgrounds, religions,etc. (Have you ever noticed that the most hateful of people are the loudest???) Politics too. Instead of people posting the positives about the candidate they support, some people are constantly putting down the other party. As someone with high I anxiety I try not to let fear drive me to hate anyone but alas too many people do and the stress continues. The differences in opinions isn't what bothers me at all. It's the bashing of one another person's opinion and candidate, the fear mongering and the hate. It's everywhere and it's like scribbles of a big thick crayon all over any shades of hope I can find.
I've thought of taking a break from the internet. After all, "unfollowing" people who spew hateful remarks can only get me so far. While social media can be great for reconnecting, staying in touch and posting to our friends, I've realized now that I've used it in the absence of real life connections. Go out and make friends, right? That is easier said than done. I've been here in a "new" state and town for over three years and except for Jesse's family I know no one. And I can tell you honestly that while a few of them and I have become friends, I am no closer to many of them now than I was when I met them. It's possible that it's just my own jaded perception of myself. Or maybe it's the loss of their Mom and my being here "instead". It's most likely just me. It's difficult to try to make people "like" or be comfortable with you when you're not comfortable or liking yourself. So that is why I don't step back completely from Fb. I would totally be isolating myself. My depression would love that.
I realize also that my depression isn't due simply to negativity from the "outside" world. Although it certainly piles onto my already struggling psyche, there is already enough self-doubt, fear and lack of self-esteem on good days. But when I'm depressed it's like I'm a walking, talking shape of a person with no real "person" inside. I start to feel the silence from friends as proof that I am worthless. Family forgetting my birthday or something I've told them shows me that I am simply not important. If I ask for attention to an issue I'm feeling I feel the weight of being a burden. I don't know how to express myself while depression smothers me in it's arms. A fog settles in around my brain making it difficult for me to understand the difference between people being busy and people writing me off. It's a war inside my head.
So go to a doctor, find a therapist, I tell myself when some of the darkness melts away. By the time my doctor is open for office hours I'm back under that darkness and it's telling me that no one can help me anyway. "You've been here before. All the therapy and medication didn't help any of the other 30 times..." Medications have only proved to cloud my thinking and, at times, made me suicidal. I'm not going back to "that" place.
Still somewhere amist all that darkness and negativity is a small voice that I can hear when this indifference or hyper-stress isn't blocking my ears. It wants to fight. I want to fight. I don't want to be hugged to death by depression anymore.
I don't want pity. I don't want to be treated differently than anyone else. I want to stop hearing all this noise. I want to stop listening to my depression telling me that no one cares and instead reach out for help before I fall completely under the strangling hold of this nothingness that has taken my brain hostage. I am reaching out now for a hand. It hurts me to ask for help...Still I don't think it's any different than if I was stuck under a car and crying out to be saved. I am stuck under a kind of vehicle really. It is my own brain...My illness.
So if anyone can hear me, I'm reaching out...A "hello", a real conversation, a reminder that I have more to contribute to this world than what my depression and anxiety are telling me. After all, we all need one another, don't we? I think that now more than ever we all need to love one another just a little bit more.
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