Questions

Are our lives predestined? Why are some of us born into wealth and others into poverty? Why do some of us get loving, supportive parents while others are rejected, abused, or abandoned? Why are some given innate talent while others never find their passion? Why do some of us feel invisible while others are full of themselves?

These are questions to which I cannot find answers, yet I can't help asking them.

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.

How to Help People with Depression

If you've been reading my blog, you may have a sense of how terrible and isolating the illness of depression can be - feeling that there is no where to turn, and no one to turn to, for comfort. The majority of people don't understand it, some are afraid of it, and they don't know how to help. People often say "I wish I could help but don't know what to do".

Here are two simple things that you can do to help:
Visit or call, or do both - even if the visit or call is brief - even if your friend has nothing to say. The depressed person feels very alone, even though they are not. Your visits and calls will help them to feel less alone and less isolated. These acts of kindness will mean more than you can know to someone who is living with this terrible illness.

Is Oblivion Really Bliss?

Imagine mourning your own life while you are still alive.

My life has been stolen by depression – my whole life. It’s stolen family, friends, jobs, joy, peace, creativity, productivity.

It’s no one’s fault. Even though I inherited this illness from my father and his family, I cannot blame them.

But I mourn my loss.

I once wrote a paper for a college class entitled “The Person.”

It told about a recurrent dream I had, where I was locked inside a clear plastic bubble. I could see and hear what was going on outside, but no one could see or hear me. I would bang on the bubble’s walls and scream, “I’m in here”, but no one responded. The ultimate isolation dream.

That dream pretty much sums up my life. That old rock and a hard place – the deep desire to participate in life in a never ending battle with the paralysis of depression.  Perhaps if I were not so intelligent I would not know what I was missing. Is oblivion really bliss?

DNA Testing Revisited

Taking antidepressants has been an on-going  battle for me, particularly when the illness is in full bloom. I’m not quite sure why but have two hypotheses. One – I think I’m poisoning my body. Two – they feed into the social stigma that I am damaged. Ridiculous. Intellectually I know that I am not damaged but have a serious illness. And even if these meds somehow shorten my life, I’d rather live a short, depression-free life than a long, suffering existence. I often did not listen to my doctor, either by stopping meds too early or taking a lower dosage than prescribed. I think, and hope, that I’ve finally learned my lesson.

I’ve talked about DNA testing in previous blogs, and most recently said the meds recommended for me as a result of these tests were not working. I now know that I had not given them enough time. After being on Pristiq for 3 weeks and Wellbutrin for 3 days, I emailed my doctor, saying I wanted to get off the Pristiq, thinking it was making me worse. I have great respect for my doctor and had made a pact with her that I would not alter medication without discussing it with her. I had broken that pact in the past and not wanting to do that again, I quickly emailed her again saying I would stay on the meds. After all, she is my doctor, so if I’m not going to listen to her, what’s the point?

Yesterday, the depression lifted. It was as if someone threw a switch in my brain. Had I stopped the meds, I very likely would still be in hell. Today is another good day and I hope for many more.

Thank you, Catherine.

Prestiq not working

I've been taking Prestiq now for 5 weeks and it's not working. The supplement recommended to help transport serotinin did not work either. So much for DNA testing! But don't be discouraged if your doc recommends it because it has helped others.

I'm now over 2 months into another episode of depression. Yesterday, I started the Thyroid Synergy and Crave Arrest supplements again, given to me by the kinesiologist. Today, the depression has lifted.
What is it about these supplements that help me, and why do they work only for a limited amount of time? Again, no one knows and there is no way to find out.

The Best Antidepressant!

If you have a dog, take him to a dog park. It's nearly impossible to be sad in the presence of dogs at play.

I take my beloved dog to the dog park frequently and it always takes me out of my head and lifts my spirits.

DNA Test Results

The DNA study was interesting. It looked at three genetic pathways that transport antidepressants. Only one of my pathways was working. Lab was able to suggest which meds worked for me, and which did not. The med I've been on for twenty years, Paxil, was shown not to work - big surprise. They recommended Prestiq. I've been on this new med now for about three weeks. It has lifted the physical symptoms, but I'm still depressed. This is my third day off Paxil, and so far I have not had any withdrawal symptoms, which I know from experience can be wicked. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that I continue to sail through without any symptoms. And maybe, the Prestiq will continue to lift me out of this dreaded illness.

Will depression ever be understood?

My friend has cancer. She has been so sick from the chemotherapy that at times, she wishes she never started treatment. She’s really suffering. Fortunately, she has lots of support from good friends who cook for her and visit.

I have depression. Sometimes I am so sick all I want to do is sleep. While my friends call to check up on me, no one cooks for me or visits.

Why the difference?

Most people just don't understand depression.

I remember reading somewhere about a man who had severe depression. He had a friend who visited him. There was little conversation - the friend just massaged his feet. How comforted the suffering man must have felt.

If you would like to help others understand this illness, suggest that they read "Darkness Visible - A Memoir of Madness" by William Styron.

The Demon Returns

April is a time of renewal and rebirth in the natural world when the tree flowers, daffodils, and other spring flowers bloom, and the spring peepers emerge from their winter sleep in the mud to sing their amazing chorus. But for me, after three glorious months of being depression free, productive and content, April has brought back the demon.

The spark has left my eyes, my face feels like melting wax, there is panic in my gut and I just want to cry. Instead of living in the world, I've gone back inside my head with all the negative thinking, physical aches and pains, isolation and loneliness. Try as I do to beat back this devil with my intellect, it's just too powerful and leaves me helpless.

Thanks to my wonderful caregiver and friend, I recently had a DNA study done and it was discovered that my body is deficient in the ingredient necessary to process serotinin. I'll be trying a new supplement to address this issue and will let you know if it works. I'm hoping it will lift me up before I'm totally debiliated again. I also hope this process proves positive and will give hope to others who suffer from treatment-resistent depression.

FEELING HUMAN

Today is January 6 and is the 4th consecutive day I'm been depression-free. This comes after 4 months of debilitating depression. If I stay well (please oh please), this will be another cycle of depression and feeling well. This has been going on for many years - months of depression, months of feeling normal.

Last year, I was tested by a kinesiologist who put me on 2 supplements, Thyroid Synergy and Crave Arrest. Among other substances, they contain iodine and 5-HTP. After a few weeks, the depression lifted. I felt so well that I thought I could get off the Paxil which I'd been on for 20 years and which obviously no longer worked since I have periods of depression. The withdrawal symptoms were so brutal that I couldn't bear them. I went back on it and probably will have to stay on it for the rest of my life. (I continued to feel well for several months, than crashed so I stopped taking the supplements).

Paxil is now known to be the most addictive of the SSRIs. I've done lots of reading on this topic. Some folks have been able to get off it (not easily) - some could not. (I've heard that doctors don't like to prescribe Paxil anymore because of the addictiveness).

Anyway, 6 days ago I remembered the supplements and began taking them again. I can't say that they are the reason for feeling better since I've been cycling like this for years before I found them. What I do know is that coming out of the depression is the most incredible relief - it's almost like being reborn. Long may it last.