The Journey continues...

For many years, I was unaware that I had an illness. I had often experienced periods of great sadness, but attributed it to nerves, and usually the sadness passed in several days. Even my physician called it "nerves", and prescribed medication such as Tofranil, Elavil, and Valium, all of which made me feel somewhat like a zombie, and really didn't do anything for the sadness.

... Some physicians just do not understand this illness.

About four years ago, the sadness became overwhelming. It began with a dark, empty, lonely feeling, which soon escalated into total despair. I had a hard time getting up in the morning, I preferred sleeping to having to face another day of the emptiness. My life began to seem useless, nothing mattered. Things that I once enjoyed, no longer brought any happiness. I sat for hours, in my robe, staring off into space, totally unaware that I was slipping further and further into my own emptiness and pain.

... If I just sleep....I can't feel the hurt.

The warning signs started in late December, I remember, because the thought of taking down the Christmas tree was monstrous. I can recall sitting in the living room and crying, not because I had to take it down, but because I could not find the energy or ambition to do it. It took all of my strength to just live, even more energy to hide what was happening to me. This was only the beginning.

...Damn this tree...it can sit there all year, who really cares?

As weeks passed, the sadness worsened. I began to have anxiety attacks. I would sit, often late at night, rocking and crying, and feeling as if no one in the world cared. Life became unbearable, and as I sank further into the despair, rationalization became impossible. No longer could I convince myself that I had a purpose in life. Suicidal thoughts began to enter my mind, and I often sat and planned how I would accomplish this task. Truthfully, I was afraid to take my life, but it seemed the only answer, and the only way out of this pain. Because, my thoughts were so distorted, I could not see any other way.

... But maybe not yet....maybe not today.

Around the beginning of March, I had what seemed like a change of heart. I call it the calm before the storm, but actually I think it was that I knew what I had to do, and found peace in the fact that I had made plans to end the pain. (I don't recall thinking that exactly, but because of the therapy, I know this happens in people who are planning suicide.) My husband and I were getting along better, and the sadness was not so consuming. I was able to function and live fairly normal, but only for a brief time, soon I would find myself even deeper in this depression than before.

... I knew it wouldn't last...see there is no hope.

I don't really know if there was one trigger, or a multitude of events, but I began to collapse. Without warning, I would lose consciousness, and fall onto the floor. Later, I was told that I had willed myself to die. Perhaps because that was easier than ending my life any other way! My body was "shutting" down, and I needed to be hospitalized. Two days after the first collapse, I was admitted to the physiatrics unit of our local hospital. Severe clinical depression was the diagnosis.

... Please just let me die here...I don't want to feel this way anymore.

Now, being in a physiatrics unit is not something I would wish for anyone, but THANK GOD I was there! The first week, I spent lying in a fetal position in bed, crying my heart out. There I could finally release all of the hurt and pain inside of me, without having to pretend, or to hide. Visitors were very limited, and frankly, I was too heavily medicated to even notice who came and went. I responded only when necessary, ate very little, and rejected encouragement to attend therapy sessions. For seven days, I cried. All the years of pain, all the years of keeping it inside, came flowing out , and as they did, with the help of the medications, I began to feel some relief.

...Now what do I do?....ok, I will go to one session.

The following week, I began to attend some of the therapy sessions. I sat and listened to others talk of their experiences with depression and anxiety. As I listened, I began to realize that I was not alone. I met several people who, like me, had serious thoughts of ending their lives. Two of them, were recovering from suicidal attempts of intentional drug overdoses. As the days passed, we shared our feelings of sadness, and our experiences in life. We began to find strength in each other, and at some point during that two week stay....I found the will to survive.

... I can beat this......I have to beat this!

I was released to a partial hospitalization program, where I had intense therapy for the next eight weeks. I went each morning at 9am and stayed until 3pm. It took me two weeks to trust anyone enough to open up, but once I was able to do that, I could then begin the process of healing. I am not sure how I ever got through the therapy, but with God's help I managed. I had to open up a lot of past wounds, and I had to experience a lot of the past hurts all over again, but at the end of eight weeks, I was released, with a better knowledge of depression and its affects. I understood that medication can correct the chemical imbalance, and how to recognize the symptoms, and most importantly, when to seek help. I was not completely healed, nor will I ever be totally free of the depression, but I have the tools to fight it.

... They call it a chemical imbalance.....I call it hell.

Every day I have to constantly be aware of triggers. Even now, four years later, I still have healing to do. I have not totally let go of the past, I am working hard to overcome the affects of the abuse. Even now I sometimes slip back into the depression. Sometimes I find myself feeling like that little girl from long ago, and I have to comfort her, and reassure her that I will take care of her. My inner child still hurts, and is still afraid. I guess some wounds never heal, but as time passes, I know, we will be fine. Someday, who knows, that little girl may even be free.

... Please God, let us be fine....

Depression is only one of many illnesses that can stem from abuse. Life long scars, that take years to over come. I share this with you, in hopes, that you can recognize the symptoms of depression, and seek help. There IS help!

Depression is an illness which can affect people of any age, sex, race or financial level. Depression is not a "bad mood". It lasts for weeks, months, sometimes years, and although it is treatable, often it is not. Sufferers of depression, through distorted view points, see only the negatives in their lives, positives are irrelevant. Suggestions to help solve problems are rejected as having no merit, until it seems as if there is no possible solution and many times this results in suicide. An unrelenting sadness comes over the sufferer, which causes a very real pain. It is as if they are trapped in a dark tunnel that runs only from their constant pain to somewhere near hell. They begin to think that there is no relief and that this pain will never end. Tomorrow will be the same, or worse. Rationality is non existent. Life no longer seems worth living........I have been here.

If you or a loved one have these feelings, please seek help. Depression IS treatable! The chemical imbalance that often causes depression, can be corrected with medication. Please do not give up! You can lead a happy life!