Embracing the illness

I was so sick the past weeks, I couldn't take it anymore. Yesterday, I thought, why not try embracing this illness instead of loathing it. It is part of me and is not going away. Maybe it's a zen approach, I don't know. What I do know is that I cannot live this way anymore, so it's worth a try. It won't take away the depression but maybe it will be easier to live with. I need to have compassion for my sick self, the way I have compassion for all living things.

Just Saying . . .

I try very hard not to hate what this illness has done to my life. That takes a lot of energy. And there is not much energy to spare when consumed with emotional and physical pain.

An ironic turn of event . . . I finally scheduled an appointment for an ECT evaluation and had psyched myself up to go tomorrow when I got a call from the ECT nurse saying their hospital did not have a contract with my insurance carrier. Most likely, I would not have subjected myself to this bizarre treatment anyway but I had promised my doctor I would look into it if I became suicidal, which I came close to last week. Luckily I still have some resiliency left to rise above those thoughts. This is just so freakin' hard. It's Xmas day and not one phone call. I will go to Kristen and John for dinner later. So grateful for that.

"Everybody hurts."

yesterday

I was in so much pain yesterday, I could barely stand it. Crying turned into a scream, coming from the depth of my being. It was frightening. The depression seems to be getting worse. I always had it but it wasn't so bad. I was able to participate in life and now It's nearly impossible. The isolation is killing me. Being so sick yesterday and not one soul to turn to for comfort. No one to visit me, no phone calls (except M). I would think that in this world with billions of people, I cold find one person for myself. But no, I don't think it's meant to be. I see three options for myself. Continue living as is, try ECT therapy, and three, take my life. None of these are acceptable, so what do I do? I heard, somewhere, the other day that we are born to survive. I keep that thought in my head. I am so lost and so broken. It's so unfair but I'm well aware that life is not fair. I'd prefer to have terminal cancer and know that my suffering would end soon. And chemo patients get all kinds of free services to help them through - like massage. But no one knows how much massage helps depression, the touch  of another person. But massage is expensive so it is a rare treat. There are no such perks for depression because society still does not recognize it as a true illness.  Believe me, it is all too real. May I get through this day with dignity and grace in the face of this demon illness.

A Devastated Life

Today, November 22, 2013 is about as bad as it gets. A 9.75 on a scale of ten. My depression is as dark as the rainy skies. My entire being is overtaken by the demon - physical, psychic, emotional, cellular. I'm forcing myself to putter in the house - laundry, a little cleaning, will try and make a pot of soup so my body can be nourished. I eat so poorly. Last night, a pint of Ben & Jerry's and bag of potato chips - real good Joan - real good. So much for the sugar/gluten free trial - it didn't work. There seems to be no cure for my illness.
I hope the food I bought yesterday doesn't wind up in the trash, as it often does from good intentions but then unable to follow through with cooking. I keep asking myself "how did this happen to me", "how did I wind up all alone"? I guess becoming a hermit when Rick left me 35 years ago did it. It's a sharp double edged sword. I long to be connected but the depression isolates me. The loneliness pierces my heart over and over and makes it bleed. I'm a kind, compassionate, intelligent, beautiful person - how did this happen? Yes, in spite of all I know, sometimes I feel sorry for myself. I write these blogs now for myself. My one friend who reads them knows me so well - M - you shouldn't be surprised by any of this any more, and be glad that you are with your joyful blonde instead of this pathetic piece of crap. Writing is a way of venting some of the pain.

It's Back Again . . .

At the advice of my doctor, I've been on a gluten/sugar free diet to see if these substances affect my depression. Depression lifted after 3 days on this diet and lasted for 1 month. Then I crashed. Doc suggests increasing my intake of fruits and veggies for the phytonutrients but it's nearly impossible to eat well when depressed. I really lost it the other day eating ice cream and potato chips. But I'm trying to stay with the diet as best I can. Doc says even if diet doesn't help depression, my body will be healthier. I missed 2 nights of tutoring because I couldn't function. I've done nothing more than sleep the past few days. I am totally affected by lack of sun and the coming winter will certainly be a challenge. I try not to absorb the pain of others but I don't have much of a shield. This makes my struggle even more difficult. If anyone reads my writing, I hope it helps you understand this illness, especially if you suffer yourself or have a loved one who does.

Survival

I don't know how I survive this illness. I must have some incredibly strong automatic pilot that keeps me going. It's so painful and difficult . . .

Why Depression?

I have no reason to be sad or depressed - I have a nice life. In depression, I'm always thinking if only I had this, if only I had that, I would feel better. But I know that no external thing, such as a job or relationship, will take away the depression. In depression, I have the same life I had out of depression. I have a beautiful new home, enough money to support myself, a few friends, my cat and my dog. I constantly need to remind myself of this. What I have is a serious illness that colors my world black. The loneliness in depression is excruciating and the physical pain is intense. But I would love to have someone of my own - someone who accepts and loves me with my illness and would support me through the episodes. I don't know if this would make me feel better but I think it would be wonderful. I don't think it will happen and I can't help believing that my life's journey is loneliness. Not having family leaves a huge whole in the human heart.

IT'S BACK AGAIN

After nearly 2 great months of being depression-free and enjoying life, the heaviness in my head and body are back. The black veil has fallen and envelops me in misery. I try to ignore it, knowing that this is the same life I had in those wonderful 2 months, but it doesn't work very well. Last night I awoke frequently with a wave of panic washing through me each time. It's just so sad because life has much beauty. In this illness, everything hurts. I try not to be angry and sorry for myself, but that's hard too. Life is hardly worth living with this illness, but as always, my pets rescue me. Thank you Danni and Pasha.

A Quote

 One reason I write this blog is to try and help others understand depression. I think the following may give some insight. The first paragraph is quoted from Kay Redfield Jamison, Night Falls Fast.

“The horror of profound depression, and the hopelessness that usually accompanies it, are hard to imagine for those who have not experienced them. Because the despair is private, it is resistant to clear and compelling description".  Novelist William Styron, however, in recounting his struggle with suicidal depression, captures vividly the heavy, inescapable pain. "What I had begun to discover is that, mysteriously and in ways that are totally remote from normal experience, the gray drizzle of horror induced by depression takes on the quality of physical pain. But it is not an immediately identifiable pain, like that of a broken limb. It may be more accurate to say that despair, owing to some evil trick played upon the sick brain by the inhabiting psyche, comes to resemble the diabolical discomfort of being imprisoned in a fiercely overheated room."

Writing Helps

Don't know how I survive this. Depression seems to be getting worse as I age. Maybe it's because I've wound up alone. I don't know why. I'm a beautiful, intelligent, and compassionate person. Not having a family is brutal for me. Everyone around me talks about going here or there with a sister, or going to a family gathering, or how their children are doing. I hate complaining and always try hard to show a positive face. Often I succeed but there are times when it's impossible. Those are the times I just sleep because I can't bear the pain. There is nothing friends can do to help me so they tend to stay away which intensifies the isolation. They don't even read this blog. I think that people are still afraid of mental illness.

There are so many wonderful things I could participate in, but this illness renders me unable to do anything, to start anything. There is a nice gym here near my new home and I want to go. My body is weakening from lack of exercise. But the depression is paralyzing so I can't get there. I live close to a beautiful synagogue that I would like to go to, but I can't get there. There are beautiful walking paths here by my new home but I can't get there. There is also an art studio and a pottery studio - things I would love, but I can't get there. My one saving grace is the dog park - I can get there. Watching the dogs play always lifts me out of my head so I go everyday. The physical pain of my depression is intense. I feel it in my head and in my stomach. The only person I can talk to about this is my doctor. She listens with compassion and always tells me that I'm not alone - that we are in it together and are here to help each other. I'd be lost without her. Everyday I count my blessings - my pets, a beautiful and safe place to live, enough money to get by, a good part-time job, a few friends. But it is hard not to feel broken, because I am. My heart and my life have been broken. Faith Middleton, on NPR, talks about the richness of life. I am an outsider looking in at this richness - craving to taste it.