Living with Depression: The Sneak Thief

The thing about depression is that it can sneak up on you. You can be going along having a perfectly normal day and suddenly you realize that you're in a deep funk for no discernible reason. You haven't done anything wrong and no one has wronged you in any way. Just BAM! And you're having what Ernest Hemingway called a 'black-ass' day.

What do you do? You see if you took your meds that morning and you find that you did take them, so that isn't it. You examine your life at that moment to see if anything is amiss (if you're able to, that is) and nothing is wrong. So that isn't it either.

Then you remember that sometimes, you're just gonna have these kinds of days, because that's the nature of the disease. You didn't do anything and you couldn't have prevented it. It's not your fault! It just happens sometimes and there is no way to know when.

Having this knowledge doesn't help much, but it does help a little. And if you're following all your rules, there is most likely going to be a light at the end of your dark tunnel. You may not see it yet, but it's most likely going to be there.

What I try do do when this happens to me is to find something else to occupy my mind. Read a book, go to a movie, go take a walk (a really good choice), watch the idiot box (that's not usually a good choice, but hey, whatever works for you). The trick is to trick your mind into forgetting that you are depressed and when you can pull off this trick successfully, man, it's a good thing.

And if it doesn't work, well, you just have to ride it out as best you can. When I get that way, I crave company and can't stand to be around people at the same time. Really weird, huh? But there it is... Then, for me, there is the inevitable mountain of guilt over not being able to fight it off and the feelings of self doubt and self worthlessness threaten to become overwhelming. I don't want to be around other people because I can't stand to be around myself, so why would anyone else want to be with me? It is a vicious cycle which often results in a downward spiral of despair. Sounds overly dramatic? Not when you're in it.

Sometimes writing can help me work out of it. Sometimes not. I sometimes find myself quite unable to do anything, so I just sit or stand or whatever until it passes and I don't care anymore if it passes or not. Sometimes, to escape I guess, my mind just leaves for awhile.
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And then slowly comes back.

As you might imagine, one of these episodes can take a fair amount of time. It is time that is stolen from me that I will never get back and cannot prevent. This makes me angry and sad, but I can't help it.

I find it hard to admit that I cannot control certain aspects of my mind and my life. I HATE not being in control of my mind and my emotions (thank-you Mr. Spock). Even though I know it isn't my fault, I can't help but feel guilty about it. Sometimes that guilty feeling sets it all off again.

Eventually, it passes and I can resume my life. But that Sneak Thief has stolen some more of my time. And I'll never get it back.

Thoughts?

Pax,
Nelson