Sounds dramatic, doesn’t it? But a few years ago, that’s the way things were.
My life was filled with such overpowering blackness; the black, muddy life of depression. The massive hands took hold of me and wouldn’t set me free.
Days upon days were spent living in my house, rarely venturing further than the end of the driveway. Appointments with my family doctor or pdoc became a major production; planning what to wear, bus route times, what to discuss. As the months and years progressed, I became a depressive recluse. Outings with my husband for dinner or lunch were a rarity, as well as, a trip to the mall. Life was just too black.
I lost contact with friends, which caused further feelings of abandonment, and that coupled with just not having any get-up-and-go and in essence hating life itself, propelled these horrid feelings of “who cares”.
I grew comfy in my house. Never a “sleepy” depressive, I forever arose fairly early, however, planted myself onto the sofa and spent the better part of the day there.
One day in particular I recall so vividly. To pass the time, I did tune into a few of my regular programs on TV. This one morning had me glancing up to the ceiling where I spotted a spider. Typically, I would have jumped out of my chair screaming; instead my eyes were peeled onto this spider. He crawled very slowly and at first, I glanced from the TV to him. Bizarrely, I turned the TV off and just observed this spider make his way across my wall. Thoughts just danced in my head about my illness; depression was consuming my life. Suicide was in the picture; scaring me at certain moments, other times comforting. I just thought to myself – I am spending a whole entire day watching a spider crawl across a wall – what kind of a life is this? I am handcuffed to my house. I am really not free to leave.
What a predicament this is. Mental illness is merciless and unjust.
I was hospitalized shortly after the “spider” event, followed by additional hospitalizations, a suicide attempt, ECT and a myriad of meds. The years haven’t been painless. But I am delighted to say, I am now on the correct meds and under the treatment of a brilliant pdoc. Finally, no more black depressions, however, what frightens me is – will this ever ensue yet again? Daunting thought.
Posted by Victorya on August 20, 2007 at 10:30 am
Wow. I’m glad you doing better but have the same worry as you – when will the next ‘attack’ come?
But even your picture shows hope – there is a key. And you are finding more and more keys to unlock your shackles.
Posted by cherished79 on August 20, 2007 at 8:05 pm
Excellent observation with the pic, and yes, we have to keep hope.
Posted by ideas2words on August 21, 2007 at 2:34 am
I recently took a two week trip to Geneva — a city I have wanted to visit for years. Once there, though, I spent about 10 of the 14 days in my hotel room, unable to pull myself together enough to even go for some food. I survived on the lobby apples for three days straight. I did get out occasionally, but I was really very upset that I wasted so much time staring at the walls knowing there was a magnificent nexus of international culture just beyond those walls. As you say, I was handcuffed to my room.
For me, the worst part of depression is the anhedonia and psychomotor retardation. The suicidality I can handle. Indeed, it seems quite often to be the only escape from the handcuffs.
Thanks for describing so vividly this seldomly understood feature of major depression.
-Ashley
Posted by cherished79 on August 21, 2007 at 6:51 am
You have also described times in your life “handcuffed” to pitch black depression also, exactly as I tried to convey in my article. Especially on a exciting trip to Geneva – that is so sad and truly unfair.
For me the depression is frightening – times right now seem too good to be true as I seem to have my life in some sort of order. I keep on top of things though – meds, pdoc, work, blog, friends….but, is this dragon just around the corner? Am I so susceptible?
Posted by miquie's crew on August 21, 2007 at 5:40 pm
you are hanging in and i agree with victorya, and too worry about the next attack. i right now have been attacked and am sorry that i haven’t been around much. i want to be and i am trying to stay afloat for myself and for others. but mostly for myself.
Posted by cherished79 on August 21, 2007 at 9:41 pm
I’m thinking about you, and contact me anytime just by leaving a comment. Take care, I know the road is rough. You’ll do it.