Friday, May 23, 2008

sliding

I am in a downward swing on the never-ending arc of my depression right now.

Inside, I feel muted, cloaked. My thoughts become harder to separate and to concentrate on. Inside my head it's like trying to swim in a thick muddy lake as opposed to a crystal clear swimming pool... it's harder to move, to see, to relate to or even grasp what's surrounding me... mostly it's all looming thoughts that stay in shadows, peeking out to taunt me when I turn away from them, hiding again when I spin back around to catch them. My mind feels slowed down, frozen. My heartbeat even feels slower.

My body feels heavy and tired and it aches in every place it can. There is a dull throb at my temple that just beats, beats, beats like the bass on some faraway car that you can't even see but that you want to kick the shit out of for having their stupid bass so loud. That's going on in my head. Yeah.

The worst part about having MMD (Major Depressive Disorder) is that it's essentially an invisible disease. It totally fucks with your body and your mind, but from the outside it just makes you looks crazy and 'depressed'. I can't tell you how many times I have been told that I need to do more 'positive thinking' and 'appreciate life' as a 'cure' to my sickness. They just don't understand. The neurons inside my brain are physically misfiring, the chemicals being released into me are wrong wrong wrong, and no amount of happy thoughts are going to physically repair or change that. My brain malfunctions are not just going to magically be fixed by a positive outlook- trust me, I've already tried that... running around with a forced grin on your face trying to love life while your heart is pounding out your chest and skipping beats and your brain is firing serious PANIC NOW!! signals to your limbs... people just do not understand.

This is a disability that I will have to live with- somehow- for the rest of my life. To quote the Mayo Clinic: "Most health professionals today consider MDD a chronic illness that requires long-term treatment, much like diabetes or high blood pressure. Although some people experience only one episode of depression, most have repeated episodes of depression symptoms throughout their life."

And just thinking about how very much people misunderstand wtf is wrong with me, just makes me more depressed. So, I try not to dwell. Still, it's not easy when everyone has some well-meaning bit of advice to give to 'cheer' me up. It makes me feel damaged somehow that I can't just fix myself already dammit. I do love them for trying and I only wish it was that easy.

Anyway... I am sliding down the depression tunnel right now... I think it was hearing about Ron Duncan's (a very close friend of my family's, may he RIP) death yesterday that tipped me onto the downslide. I am so tired of death and sorrow. It seems that I have been to one funeral and memorial after another for the last year... watching wives hearts break and children's confusion grow, watching sibling's pain boil inside them and friend's faces show signs of weariness and age and sadness... ugh. I am so tired of all this sadness. I am tired of loss. But, what can I do.... nothing much. Just go on, like we humans do. It is what it is.

So I'll keep taking my meds and playing with my chihuahuababy and trying to push through the dark.

And you guys keep watching and reading and who knows, maybe getting some more insight into what goes on with us 'crazy people'.

And maybe throw me a rope or something, yeah?

2 comments:

James said...

I know what you're saying, Shady. Before Diane and I got back together, I thought I knew what depression was all about, but I had absolutely no idea.

The worst part about having a loved one who suffers from depression is that nothing I can do or say will make her feel better, but there's plenty that can make it worse. So I have to be content with doing nothing and just letting her know that I'm there for her.

It's things like this blog that help me try to understand what's going on in her head, and I appreciate the insight.

Oh... and Diane and I are there for you. For moral support at the very least.

the Netherest said...

It really pisses me off to know that a beautiful, creative, humorous person like you has to suffer so much from misfiring neurons and a lack of the right neuro-chemicals.

And like you say, and like James says in his comment, there's nothing we can do to make you feel better.
Except chip in to pay for your medicines if you can't anymore.
And be here for you, "listen" to you by reading your blog.
Which- by the way I find a very brave thing to do, share your feelings with us out here.