It’s hard to describe the pain I feel as my depression hits me. It starts with rage. Yes. Every time it is triggered by unwarranted red-hot anger.
These intense feelings come out of nowhere.
Triggers: computer errors, dog jumped on me, my sock is rubbing the wrong way, or the doctor is not understanding how badly I feel at home.
It debilitates me.
I may say something short to someone close by. Then run away as fast as I can (breaking shit is no longer an option, embarrassing and expensive).
The anger is directed at myself. The crying starts. The sobbing goes on and on. I become self-defeating.
The pain is physical. It hurts right in the gut. It’s like the feeling you get when the air is knocked out of you. My abdominal muscles knot up. My neck and shoulders tense up, as well. Breathing takes big effort. I get nauseated. It sounds like anxiety and it probably is. However, it leads very quickly into a deep and hopeless depression.
Sometimes it takes weeks before I feel like getting out of bed.
The last few weeks I’ve been experiencing these symptoms A LOT.
I revert to worrying about my horrifying impossible future (yes – I’m guilty, too). Next, I blame myself for every wrong I have ever done to make my current position so difficult. Who else am I going to blame? I tell myself I’m worthless. I am better off dead (it is very scary how enticing that sounds while my body submits to the darkness). I don’t do anything right. I’m incapable of being loved or loving back…
My common sense voice tells me, “It will pass, Marke, it always does.”
The little angry/hurt child inside me becomes an ugly little troll. She reminds me of every hurtful thought I have ever had. She mimics the voices of past people who have verbally assaulted me, mocking me with their cruel insults.
I have absolutely no sense of humor about any of the things listed above while this is happening. I lose all my defenses. The pain is excruciating. I tear up just thinking about it.
I watched A Silver Linings Playbook last night. At first it was hard to watch. I reluctantly identified with the main character, Pat. Pat is Bi-Polar. He’s more violent and threatening than I am. I felt a kinship with him — after I stopped being annoyed by him.
That movie had a happy ending. He met another mentally ill and imperfect woman, and they fell in love. I sobbed through half a box of tissues.
My point with this post is this:
I SUFFER, TOO.
I am able to show a confident, funny and capable face in public.
I just never feel like writing about the anger/sadness, when it happens.
I would like to say my dark side is another person; somebody I can walk away from and never look back.
Alas, it is still me.
It always will be. That’s a tough statement. Yet, it is truthful.
BiPolar, Severe Depression and other mental health diseases have no cure. The villains are always hovering in the background, looking for a weak spot in our defenses.
Medication can be helpful, but it’s trial and error.
Depression killed my brother. He medicated himself with alcohol: a really dangerous combination.
Our internal enemy loves alcohol. It grows much stronger with it.
I have two children who would be crushed if they lost me to suicide. They’ve told me this. They know I suffer because they suffer when I’m experiencing a plunge into the abyss.
One of my kids is a young adult. He admits he experiences similar symptoms already. I fear for him.
Staying alive is my only option.
Writing this blog helps me get some of the poison out. God, I hope it helps someone else, too.
Just know this: we are not alone with our diseases. EVERY ONE of us has somebody who is affected by our trials, yet: Love us anyway. We just need to know how to recognize and appreciate them.
Thank you for reading.