The Face of Depression

My face is the face of depression.

Tonight it is at an all time maximum.  I don't know how to ask for help.  I do not know how to control it.

It consumes me.

Just when I think I'll be ok, I have sunk even lower before.

I stood in the bathroom for some time trying so hard to compose myself.  I was fighting the urge to cut my wrists.  I caught the pill bottle out of the corner of my eye, held it in my hand for a moment.  I opened the lid and dumped the contents in my hand.  The pills felt like pebbles as I stood there crying.  For one brief moment I considered popping them in my mouth but I dropped them into the toilet and flushed.

I cried harder.

How do I ask for help?  At this hour?  Who do I call?  Where do I turn?

I feel so alone in this.

I came back to bed and decided to write.  Writing seems to help.  I hesitated because I am sure there will be someone out there reading this who will think that this is all for attention.  

If it is you, you can kiss my ass.

My face is a face of depression.  There are many more like mine out there.  

We are not alone.  There are millions of faces just like mine.

We can be good liars.  We will tell you we are ok when we are breaking inside.  We will tell you we are fine when we are certainly not.  We will smile, joke, laugh; hell, some of us are downright funny.  But we are dying inside.

We mostly suffer in silence.

We believe that we are unlovable.  We believe we are overweight, ugly and damned.  We believe that we aren't worthy of being happy.  We believe that we will be rejected by anyone we reach out to.

Why would someone love us, we are just a hideous mess?

Depression isn't something we can just "get over".  We just can't take a walk or soak up some sun.  It doesn't work that way.

It is so difficult to explain how depression feels.  It is way more complicated that just being sad.  It is more than just crying.  It is more than just feeling empty and numb.

Depression is a liar.  I know this and I am sure that others like me know it as well.  Sometimes the lies become our believable truth.

Tonight was a small victory, the pills were flushed.  There are many others out there who lost their battle.  It saddens me that we do suffer alone when there are so many of us.

My face is a face of depression.

Above photo was taken right after I flushed the pills.

Suicide Prevention Hotline

800-273-8255

"Funny" Does Not Translate Into "Happy"

I wasn't going to mention Robin Williams but I guess I just did.

Seems that the whole world is buzzing about it.  It also seems that many are also mentioning suicide and posting links to hotlines and such.

Not to be a negative Nancy, because it is all quite nice and all, but why wait to say something after someone famous dies at their own hands? 

Many of us suffer from depression.  I have written about it numerous times.  I struggle daily with it.  It isn't something that you can just make all better with pills and conversation.

Trust me....

To describe actual depression to someone is almost impossible.  We each feel it differently and yet similarly at the same time.  We try all sorts of methods to keep it in check.  We talk about it, write about it, sing about it.  It is just still there.

Sometimes it becomes too intrusive and we have to go the drastic route to eliminate it.

And that's unfortunate.

I haven't been blogging much.

I have been struggling with my own issues.  Life hasn't been too grand.  It has been downright shitty.

I am amazed at how well I am holding up.  

I did take a time out from Facebook though.  This always helps. People are shitty.  They may not think that they are, but....  Well, you know.

I get sick of hearing about other peoples shitty lives.  I get sick of people passing judgments.  I get sick of all of the negativity.  I get so sick of the narcissism. I get sick of all the happy posts too.

None of this shit is good for those of us who have depression.

There just ain't a big enough pill for that.

I find that taking the time to focus on other things helps.  I start reading more, creating more, getting out more...everything else more and FB less just helps. 

I suppose I could write out all of the shitty shit that I have been dealing with but seriously, no one needs to read it.  I am not looking for sympathy or solutions.  I certainly don't need another anonymous letter showing up.

It's my shit and I'll deal with it.

I just want others to know that depression sucks.  You can say poor Robin, he was battling some serious shit....blah blah blah.  Yep, he was and that shit won.

Those of us who suffer from depression tend to mask it rather well.  We sometimes are silent.  Some of us tend to use humor.  I think some of the funniest people are also the most depressed.  

When reading some posts about Robin and so many people can't understand why someone who was so funny would want to kill themselves.  

I know exactly why.

Funny does not translate into happy.

Dirty Little Liar

Depression

Many people talk about it, many people have it, many people don't understand it.

There are many descriptions of it and how it feels to have it.  There are treatments for it.

I have had it for many many years.  Ever since I hit puberty, I have dealt with it.  Sometimes it ebbs and then there are times it flows.

This time of year is difficult.

I have the moments where I don't want to get out of bed.  I have the teary eyed drive home moments.  (The car is such a bastard because it traps me with my thoughts.)  I have the moments of insecurity and can't even stand my own reflection.  I have the "I'm so broke, I can't do anything fun" moments.  I lose interest in anything that gives me the slightest joy.  I think I have no friends or have friends that just don't give a shit.

Life becomes flat.

There is no other fix for it than just plugging through it.

I try to block out the damn lies that depression whispers in my ear.

It tells me things.

You are not good enough.  Nobody loves you.  That big zit on your face will never go away.  You will never ever have any money.  You are ugly.  You are fat.  Everyone leaves you because it is your fault.  You can't do anything right.  Your animals are going to die because you mistreat them.  Your kids think you are a failure.  You are just so stupid.  

and the list goes on....

All lies

When you are in the pit of depression, the lies become so believable.  One million people can all tell you that they are not true and tell you so many positive things but you tend to believe those whispery lies because you know you best.

Even your little helper pill doesn't help.  (citalopram, zoloft, lexapro, paxil, prozac...for examples)

So how to deal with it.

Good question

I tend to just accept it as it is and hope it passes quicker than the last bout with it.  I never have thoughts of suicide but I can see where someone may be pushed to that level.  I tend to think about running away, just disappearing into the unknown.  I start looking at other countries or places to go.  I look at job postings and plan an escape.  It takes long enough to check everything out that I kind of forget about the depression.

Funny, eh?

I know that there are so many other people who deal with depression and that is just sad in itself.  Sometimes I wonder why so many of us have to deal with it.  

This world would be such a better place if we just didn't have depression.

Ever Wonder What it Feels Like?

I've reread some of my old blog entries.  I pulled several off of my blog and tucked them away in a safe place.  I was told once that they made certain people uncomfortable.

Well, hell, ,depression IS uncomfortable.  It is an icky, awful, mood altering, horrible, alone kind of feeling.  You feel it envelope you like a greasy skin weighing you down so much so you feel like you will never ever stand up again.  You lie when you are asked if you are ok.  You fake a smile or a laugh when inside you are crumbling.  You feel unlovable, broken in some way.  You think that everyone who sees you, sees your ugly side.

Doctors can give you pills, therapists can give you advice, but it still lurks and awaits your weak moment and then.....

BLAM!

it hits you.

So yeah, it is uncomfortable.

duh...

I was told once (during my ickiest feelings) that someone came across my blog and was made to feel uncomfortable by some of my writing.  I was upset and pulled them all.  I probably shouldn't have.  I don't mind sharing my feelings and thoughts.  I am sure that there are hundreds if not thousands out here just like me.

So I was thinking about that moment where I was told about making someone uncomfortable.  Then I went to my blog stash and reread my feelings and thoughts that I wrote at the moment of feeling them.  I also remember how it felt to write it down and do a mind dump.  It can be therapeutic.  It can also let someone else know that they aren't alone in this feeling.

So if you just read all of this and feel uncomfortable.....

just imagine how I feel.