O Captain, My Captain - Part Two
It's rare for me to do a two part post in the same day but while both are related, they really are separate. The first was a tribute to Robin Williams while this one is about depression.
I literally got into an argument with an acquaintance today over how "cowardly" and "selfish" Williams was by committing suicide. It got so bad that I almost hit "unfriend" and removed that person from my Facebook life. However, as we are all allowed to have our own opinions I figured I would share mine here.
Suicide is not "cowardly," "selfish," or a "sin worthy of damnation." Depression is a real illness and unless you have been there you cannot fully understand it. There is an old Sioux prayer which states "Oh Great Spirit, keep me from ever judging a man until I have walked a mile in his moccasins."
I have suffered from Major Depressive Disorder (MDD) for over 17 years now. Wow. It's hard to believe it has been that long. The theory is--using epigenetics as a way of explaining things--I had a biological predisposition to depression (genotype) that expressed itself in the form of MDD after I experienced to a painful and tragic stimulus (phenotype). Essentially I had what the old DSM-IV categorized as PTSD which led to MDD [don't get me started on the new definition as I can rant on against it for hours].
Those first few years were very dark. I lived in poverty for three of them as I had no other source of income besides Social Security Disability and my psychiatrists were either incompetent, complete jackasses, or, in one case, arrested for "having inappropriate relations with a patient" (it wasn't me, thank the gods). Did I contemplate suicide? Hell ya. I felt alone, had no hope whatsoever, and honestly believed that those around me would be better off if I were dead as I considered myself a burden. It did not help that many of my so-called friends "disappeared" once I was diagnosed and the only people left in my life were my parents who had the old school mentality of depression. You know the old "think positively" and "just snap out of it." What a load of crap that was. Don't you think I tried that already. I mean, there were days where getting off the couch to go to bed was such an obstacle for me that I ended up sleeping on the couch. I went days without eating, partially due to poverty but also due to the fact that I could not muster enough energy to actually find something to eat. When you are this bad off you honestly believe that life will not get better. You believe that your life will only get worse.
Why did I not commit suicide? I had something to live for. Or I should say someones. I had my kitties at the time, back in the day when I only had four. It was Ayla the Grump, Xanadu, Moose, and Kukai. Those little furballs gave me a reason to live. Who would take care of them if I was not around? So while the dark thoughts of suicide kept whispering promises of rest and peace in my head, their little meows reminded me that I needed to be around for a little while longer.
As Thumper put it so beautifully: "Depression is a stone cold, black-hearted, mean little bitch."
That is so true. Even to this day when my depression is largely managed by multiple medications, I still suffer its effects. If I get too tired or stressed out it will rear its ugly head. One day just a couple of weeks ago I found myself crying uncontrollably for no apparent reason. That darkness just snuck up on me and attacked when I was least expecting it. There are still moments when I have difficulty getting out of bed or trying to get some motivation to do something, anything. There are days when that dark voice whispers in my ear still. However, now I have Bear and 13 little Fuzzies that need me. If that's not motivation to live then I do not know what is. :)
I just wish the depression would leave me so I can enjoy life to its fullest because I still can't. Yes, I am so much better than I was 17 years ago but I will never be the same pre-MDD. I wish on many days I could have that life back but for the most part I've accepted who I am now and am willing to live with this ugly baggage. Luckily, Bear is willing to live with it too. I know I'm blessed with what I have. I just wish Mr. Williams could have held on to his family as his life preserver, but we will never know what was going on inside of his head.
For those of you who are depressed or think you are depressed, please get help. There are so many resources available out there. Suicide is only a "permanent solution to a temporary problem" [another perfect Thumper quote]. Please, please, please seek help. If you are ever suicidal, please contact one of the resources like the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline.
On a side note, as I mentioned movies that made a difference in my life, I should give a shout out to Brain Candy by Kids in the Hall. I remember sitting in the apartment I shared with my brother soon after my initial MDD diagnosis, flipping through the channels and coming across this movie. To sum it up, it's a story about a miracle candy that can "cure" depression but has some unwanted side effects. It's not the best work by KITH but I remember laughing throughout the movie. It made me realize that if I could laugh at something that I had--depression--then I was not a truly lost cause. I know it sounds weird but it gave me a ray of hope that I am thankful for even to this day.
I literally got into an argument with an acquaintance today over how "cowardly" and "selfish" Williams was by committing suicide. It got so bad that I almost hit "unfriend" and removed that person from my Facebook life. However, as we are all allowed to have our own opinions I figured I would share mine here.
Suicide is not "cowardly," "selfish," or a "sin worthy of damnation." Depression is a real illness and unless you have been there you cannot fully understand it. There is an old Sioux prayer which states "Oh Great Spirit, keep me from ever judging a man until I have walked a mile in his moccasins."
I have suffered from Major Depressive Disorder (MDD) for over 17 years now. Wow. It's hard to believe it has been that long. The theory is--using epigenetics as a way of explaining things--I had a biological predisposition to depression (genotype) that expressed itself in the form of MDD after I experienced to a painful and tragic stimulus (phenotype). Essentially I had what the old DSM-IV categorized as PTSD which led to MDD [don't get me started on the new definition as I can rant on against it for hours].
Those first few years were very dark. I lived in poverty for three of them as I had no other source of income besides Social Security Disability and my psychiatrists were either incompetent, complete jackasses, or, in one case, arrested for "having inappropriate relations with a patient" (it wasn't me, thank the gods). Did I contemplate suicide? Hell ya. I felt alone, had no hope whatsoever, and honestly believed that those around me would be better off if I were dead as I considered myself a burden. It did not help that many of my so-called friends "disappeared" once I was diagnosed and the only people left in my life were my parents who had the old school mentality of depression. You know the old "think positively" and "just snap out of it." What a load of crap that was. Don't you think I tried that already. I mean, there were days where getting off the couch to go to bed was such an obstacle for me that I ended up sleeping on the couch. I went days without eating, partially due to poverty but also due to the fact that I could not muster enough energy to actually find something to eat. When you are this bad off you honestly believe that life will not get better. You believe that your life will only get worse.
Why did I not commit suicide? I had something to live for. Or I should say someones. I had my kitties at the time, back in the day when I only had four. It was Ayla the Grump, Xanadu, Moose, and Kukai. Those little furballs gave me a reason to live. Who would take care of them if I was not around? So while the dark thoughts of suicide kept whispering promises of rest and peace in my head, their little meows reminded me that I needed to be around for a little while longer.
As Thumper put it so beautifully: "Depression is a stone cold, black-hearted, mean little bitch."
That is so true. Even to this day when my depression is largely managed by multiple medications, I still suffer its effects. If I get too tired or stressed out it will rear its ugly head. One day just a couple of weeks ago I found myself crying uncontrollably for no apparent reason. That darkness just snuck up on me and attacked when I was least expecting it. There are still moments when I have difficulty getting out of bed or trying to get some motivation to do something, anything. There are days when that dark voice whispers in my ear still. However, now I have Bear and 13 little Fuzzies that need me. If that's not motivation to live then I do not know what is. :)
I just wish the depression would leave me so I can enjoy life to its fullest because I still can't. Yes, I am so much better than I was 17 years ago but I will never be the same pre-MDD. I wish on many days I could have that life back but for the most part I've accepted who I am now and am willing to live with this ugly baggage. Luckily, Bear is willing to live with it too. I know I'm blessed with what I have. I just wish Mr. Williams could have held on to his family as his life preserver, but we will never know what was going on inside of his head.
For those of you who are depressed or think you are depressed, please get help. There are so many resources available out there. Suicide is only a "permanent solution to a temporary problem" [another perfect Thumper quote]. Please, please, please seek help. If you are ever suicidal, please contact one of the resources like the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline.
On a side note, as I mentioned movies that made a difference in my life, I should give a shout out to Brain Candy by Kids in the Hall. I remember sitting in the apartment I shared with my brother soon after my initial MDD diagnosis, flipping through the channels and coming across this movie. To sum it up, it's a story about a miracle candy that can "cure" depression but has some unwanted side effects. It's not the best work by KITH but I remember laughing throughout the movie. It made me realize that if I could laugh at something that I had--depression--then I was not a truly lost cause. I know it sounds weird but it gave me a ray of hope that I am thankful for even to this day.
Comments
(((hug)))