Effexor is giving me my life back!

First, my apologizes for my long absence. My illness turned into pneumonia and it has been a tough road.

There is good news! I did what so many encouraged me to do and I went to my doctor to change my anti-depressant to Effexor! I started taking it even in the middle of my pneumonia because I didn't want to waste another minute. I was just praying that it would work the same as it had years ago. I was really scared in case I fell deeper into my dark place. It has only been three weeks and yet I am totally feeling so much better. I have hope back in my life and it has been so long since I have felt any hope or joy.

I think I would still be paralyzed by the fear of what could happen. Thanks for all the encouragement to move forward.

I would love to hear more from you on how you are or are not managing this disease. I really believe we can help one another from our experiences.

My World Caved In

Sorry it has been so long. My son got home from a two year mission in Zimbabwe for the LDS church. And then I got hit with a sickness I am having a hard time kicking.

I had wanted to blame my depression on the terrible stress I had undergone in the preceding two years. When it didn't leave as some of those stresses were lifted, I found myself slipping even deeper into the pit. What followed were some of the darkest days of my life. The depression hit me harder than ever and I was drowning. I felt like my body was just around an empty shell. I couldn't function. I couldn't leave my home. I couldn't clean or do the laundry. I was shutting down and didn't know how to stop it. 

 

I was a mother of eight and that took every part of my being to just do that. I grew up with a mother that lived behind closed bedroom doors and I wasn't going to shut my children out of my life. So if it was the ONLY thing I could do, then so be it. I also felt they deserved to know what was going on with me. I didn't want a shroud of secrecy in our home. If I failed them, then nothing else mattered.

Lessons I Learned

It is a shame it took me getting depression to understand my mother. Realizing that I had judged my mother so harshly wasn't the end of it. I had spoken so loudly to so many people that I really felt that I needed to do two things. First, one of the hardest things I had to do was go to my mother and confess to her the awful things I had said and done as well as all the judgments I made against her. Tears flowed down my face as I asked for her forgiveness and with no hesitation she promptly forgave me. I had taken such a heavy heart to my mother's and yet she had no guile. This was the beginning of a new relationship as we were finally able to relate we had never experienced. I never believed my mother and I were similar in personality and yet when I heard her or my father talk of her life before depression, I believe we were more similar than I ever knew.

Secondly, I knew my penitence would not be complete until I made every effort to undo the damage I had done. Many of the women in my neighborhood had heard me on more than one occasion speak ill of my mother. I made a concerted effort to personally talk with as many as I could to let them know how wrong I had been. It is so vital to get ride of the stigma of depression and to stop judging those around when we have know idea what their hidden demons might be. It is also crucial for those of us that have depression to be open with one another and find strength from sharing together.

Understanding My Mother

Something that was life altering for me was the change in how I perceived my mother. I always loved her but I had judged her harshly for how absent she had been in my family's life. I found as the years went on that I found every opportunity to criticize her. I said very cruel things about her to others and even said some of my comments to her personally. I justified my comments to her because my perception of her actions or lack of actions was that she didn't care.

But now, my eyes opened to a whole new understanding of the despair and misery my mother had experienced throughout her life and I felt deep regret and sorrow for the judgments I made against her. When she fell victim to depression, the doctors had little or no experience with this disease. She suffered some very primitive and barbaric treatments in their attempts to heal her.

I finally understood because of my own personal experiences that the reason for her not being there wasn't because she did not want to be, but because she could not be! Now I had empathy that could only come through me being personally afflicted with this same disease. I finally understood and appreciated the tremendous mother she really was given the unbelievable burdens, obstacles and treatments of depression she had to endure.

When Did I Really Get Depression?

Some of my latest insights have come as I have tried to write about depression. As I look back on my early teen years, I can see that I actually experienced episodes of depression back then. These situations were nowhere as bad as they would eventually become but I recognize them as 'situational' depression.

 

One example I remember was growing up in a family with eight children and finding myself trying to disappear for hours or days at a time. I f I could avoid talking to anyone, I would.

 

On another occasion, I remember my first semester of my sophomore year at college was extremely tough. My friendship with my best friend and roommate seemed to be disintegrating and our other roommates were less than ideal. I dreaded going back to my apartment at the end of the day and I would stay on campus as long as I could to avoid going home. At the end of the semester, I headed out to take my physics final. I was halfway there when I stopped, turned around and went back to the apartment! I knew it was insane and that I needed to keep going but I just couldn't bring myself to go and take that test. I knew I would never be able to explain myself to my father but I didn't feel like I had a choice, I just turned around. I got an 'F' in that class which is still on my transcript today (if they keep them that long).

Depression Incapacitates

Before being diagnosed with depression, I would never have guessed how incapacitating this disease could be. I remember a time when I was sitting on the couch staring out my window, unable to motivate myself to do anything. As I watched, two neighbors came outside and started chatting. I distinctly remember having the thought that it would be good to head outside and join in the conversation and yet, I couldn't move. These weren't strangers but good friends that I knew well and enjoyed being around. They must have talked for over an hour but there I sat, alone in my house with no ability to put thought into action. How does a disease have the power to do this?