When Depression Makes It So I'm Just Surviving

Some days are pretty hard with depression. I’ve had depression for at least 20 years so I’m not new to this game. I can live through a lot. And I will live through this. But when the depression is bad it’s as if the rest of my life gets put on hold, sometimes for months at a time. That’s where I’m at now, where I’ve been at for the last 4 months or so.

For those that are prone to worrying about me (looking at you parents) I’m going to be fine. I’m not a danger to myself or anything like that. I’m getting the help I need to in the form of counseling and psychiatric (pharmaceutical) care. And objectively, I can see that I am slowly getting better.

But when you start as low as I was, it’s a long climb out.

Anyone who has experienced mental illnesses requiring medication will understand how hard it can be to make changes or adjustments. We really don’t know why some medications help with certain things or how they work. Because of this there is a lot of guesswork involved, even with the most knowledgeable doctors. One of the supplements that my psychiatrist had me try back in October made me very very depressed. This was among the lowest I’ve ever been. I’m talking forget to change my clothes and eat levels of depression here. My husband went on a trip around that time and when he got back he asked me what I’d been doing. I don’t remember exactly what I said but his response was “That’s some serious depression shit right there.”

As soon as I figured out that the supplement was the problem my doctor took me off it and we continued to make other adjustments but the road up from that low has been long and arduous. I think right now I’m reaching the limits of my patience. I’ll need to find more patience of course, because you don’t just get to be done with depression when you get sick of it or bored with it. If only that was all it took. I will most likely turn this feeling into frustration that will fuel me to keep fighting this. I can be angry at the depression. Anger is a good motivator. And the depression doesn’t mind in the least if I’m angry at it.

So many people, even in the chronic illness community, cultivate this online image of always being perky and optimistic. I’m writing this because I think we are all better off if we talk about our shit. I believe that when we talk about things openly they become less scary. I have never been particularly shy about my mental illnesses and I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had someone respond with “me too! I thought I was the only one!” At the moment most of my interactions are digital due to COVID so I’m writing this to continue to talk about my shit through the that are means available to me.