tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-51701323800347540362024-02-20T18:21:40.278-07:00Depression; Living in the DarkSpeaking out about depression does not make me awesome or amazing. My reasons for being open and honest about my experiences is to reach out to the those struggling with depression who think they are alone and that no one understands. You’re not alone! Together, we can help each other. I do appreciate your kind words and expressions of support and sympathy. But I write for those who cannot speak for themselves.John & Suzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04065490622449965393noreply@blogger.comBlogger26125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5170132380034754036.post-14984359411060413512013-01-29T06:15:00.002-07:002013-01-29T06:15:46.300-07:00Depressed!Have I mentioned how hard winter has been? This winter has been one of our worst in over twenty years. We have been below freezing for more than thirty days in a row. And add that to getting more snow than usual and it just drags on and on. I am craving sunshine and warmth. John & Suzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04065490622449965393noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5170132380034754036.post-5987867966328520282013-01-22T04:51:00.003-07:002013-01-22T04:51:47.266-07:00College<div align="LEFT" style="line-height: margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span></span>
<br />
<div align="LEFT" style="line-height: margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The
first semester of my second year of college was extremely tough.<span style="font-size: medium;"> </span>At
the end of the semester I headed out to take my Physics 101 final. In
mid-stride I stopped and went home, getting an “F” in the class
(that is still on my transcript today). I'm a good student so that
was totally out of character for me but now I know I was struggling
with depression during this rough semester. I just couldn't bring
myself to go to the testing center and take that test. It really
didn't feel like I had a choice, I just turned around. </span></span>
</div>
</div>
John & Suzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04065490622449965393noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5170132380034754036.post-26980092256166586282013-01-19T07:33:00.001-07:002013-01-19T07:33:26.218-07:00Winter Time<span style="font-size: large;">This winter is so hard. It is bitter cold and gloomy and I can feel
it in my bones. I am trying to be patient as I wait for spring but it
seems so far away. My depression is not seasonal or situational however I
do notice that I do so much better in the other seasons of the year.
The sun makes such a difference. </span><br />
John & Suzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04065490622449965393noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5170132380034754036.post-33572087667728346782013-01-18T08:30:00.001-07:002013-01-18T08:30:23.316-07:00My Limitations<span style="font-size: large;">One of the hardest things for me to learn was making sure I didn't take on more than I could handle. If stress is such a huge catalyst, I knew I had to be very careful. It was difficult at first to say no to requests from others but it was the only way I could even cope with the demands of being a mom. As always, being a mom was my first priority. I felt guilty all the time from saying no but as the years have gone by and there are a lot of times I can say yes, I also no my limitations and cannot risk taking on too much and going into overload and then bringing on another crash.</span>John & Suzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04065490622449965393noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5170132380034754036.post-29906998055758561202013-01-08T07:03:00.001-07:002013-01-08T07:03:36.829-07:00If I Am Better...?I think my medication is working but then why do I still spend most of my time in my bedroom with the light off? I feel guilty but can't seem to get beyond my room. Other things seem to be normal and I don't have any of those feelings of overwhelming blackness. If I have something I need to do or have committed to do it takes me hours to work up the motivation to get up and go. Maybe my medication isn't working.John & Suzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04065490622449965393noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5170132380034754036.post-88639350703980705192012-12-07T09:22:00.003-07:002012-12-07T09:22:48.254-07:00Opening Up<span style="font-size: large;">I wish my mom and dad <span style="font-size: large;">had been more open about my mother's challenges. Perhaps they or I would have recognized that what I was experiencing was depression. Because my mother lived so much of those years shut away, she may not have been around enough t<span style="font-size: large;">o even notice. I also know that <span style="font-size: large;">because</span> mother's pit was so dark and insidious<span style="font-size: large;">,</span> that she probably was unable to see my suffering. Even if they recognized what I was going through, I realize now that the secrecy and stigma of the illness might have precluded my mother even talking to me about it. If I had known earlier, I wonder if I would have made wiser choices throughout my life and been able to better manage this illness.</span></span></span>John & Suzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04065490622449965393noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5170132380034754036.post-21530671091253716022012-11-08T10:43:00.002-07:002012-11-08T10:43:53.607-07:00What Can Others Do?I have been approached by many spouses, parents and children who live with someone with depression who are sympathetic but struggle to know how to help. Depression is a very difficult disease to understand and I speak personally of my error in judgement of my mother. I have watched my father, my husband and my children attempt to cope with living with an individual suffering from depression.<br />
<br />
The main thing I can offer is try very hard to have patience, don't discount their suffering and don't judge them. Please don't tell us to pray more, study the scriptures more and go to the temple more and our depression would diminish or leave. We have probably tried all of that and more. We have already berated ourselves that if we were more righteous we could be healed. When someone is suffering from actual chemical depression, those things are not going to help without medication.<br />
<br />
We know that sunshine and exercise can be very therapeutic but constantly being badgered to get out in the sun more and exercise does not motivate us to leave the house and soak up the rays.Neither is suggesting that we get a job, babysit grandchildren or any other good thing you think will help. With depression, a positive mental attitude or putting mind over matter might sound like good advise but the depression inhibits any of those abilities.<br />
<br />
Once medication has started to work we might be more receptive to occasional gentle suggestions.John & Suzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04065490622449965393noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5170132380034754036.post-37665888275767926242012-10-26T08:18:00.001-06:002012-10-26T08:18:15.769-06:00<span style="font-size: small;">In the last twenty years I have</span> realized that part of this debilitating disease is the inability to function, to even do simple tasks. I recognize the biggest challenge for me is taking that first step. It is like getting a two ton ball rolling. If the ball was already moving, I might be able to keep it rolling. Just the thought of me trying to get a two ton ball rolling is so absurd that is overwhelming and beyond my capacity.<br />
<br />
This becomes even harder if it involves leaving my house. There are times when I actually leave the house to drive to a store but then I can't get out of the car. I would just sit in the parking lot for a while and then just go home filled with frustration that I couldn't even buy groceries for my family. Once in a while, I would actually get out of the car and walk into the store only to turn right around and leave.John & Suzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04065490622449965393noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5170132380034754036.post-28849432140211026672012-10-23T07:00:00.001-06:002012-10-23T07:00:06.919-06:00I Quit!At the end of the fall semester at college I was heading out to take my Physics final. I had walked about half way there to just realize I couldn't go and take that test. In mid-stride I stopped and went back to my apartment, getting an 'F' in the class. I was a good student so that was totally out of character for me but now I realize I was struggling with depression during this semester. I just couldn't bring myself to go to the testing center and take that test. It didn't really feel like I had a choice, I just turned around.<br />
<br />
As I headed home over Christmas break, I made a decision that I would not be returning to college. I knew my father wouldn't be pleased but I knew I could not cope. My dad tried tried very hard to convince me to return but I didn't budge.<br />
<br />
I wish, here again, that my mother or father would have recognized my symptoms and actions as being those that were similar to my mom's and talk to me about depression. Looking back I am relieved to know there was a reason to my irrational behavior but it would have been a blessing to know what I was dealing with at the time.John & Suzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04065490622449965393noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5170132380034754036.post-50872499400629158422012-10-06T07:08:00.000-06:002012-10-06T07:08:14.986-06:00Losing a FriendI had a dear friend of my pass away a few days ago and it has just sunk me into the deep. I don't know if I internalize things so deep that with my depression it pushes me further down or what. I can't stop thinking about how much I will miss her and how empty my life feels. She was one of those friends that are rare to find yet I was blessed to have her. She knew my deepest and darkest feelings. When my son came to me and told me he was gay, and I didn't know if I would ever stop hurting and crying, she was there.When another son overdosed not once but twice, (but through two different miracles lived), and once again felt my heart break, she was there. When I felt as though I had failed as a mother, she was there. She never judged me and she never broke my confidences. I knew she was a safe place for me. John & Suzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04065490622449965393noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5170132380034754036.post-80587925081739165652012-09-28T11:31:00.002-06:002012-09-28T11:31:26.609-06:00Dreaded Girls CampWhen I was sixteen, I was supposed to attend a girls camp with my church for a week in the summer. I didn't like camping but I had gone before so I knew what to expect. This time, however, I was filled with dread and I absolutely did not want to go! I didn't understand but it became a huge deal to me. When I told my father I didn't want to go, he told me that I didn't have a choice. It wasn't mandatory unless you had my father. I tried to persuade him but he was not having any of it. He was usually very reasonable but not this time. I went but it was a lonely and excruciating experience. I spent most the time in my tent and distanced myself from everyone.<br />
<br />
In hindsight it is easy for me to know I had depression but I didn't recognize it. Again I wish my mother or father would have talked to me about it.John & Suzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04065490622449965393noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5170132380034754036.post-84174051549611818452012-09-24T08:38:00.000-06:002012-09-24T08:38:19.143-06:00What if?<span style="font-size: small;">I have a better understanding now and greater insight into depression. Some of these insights have come very recently as I have been writing on this blog. As I look back on my teen years, I can see that I actually experienced episodes of depression throughout my life. They were shorter and I eventually pulled out of them without medications or even understanding what really happened.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Growin</span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">g </span>up</span></span> in a family of eight children, I would find myself trying to disappear for hours or days at a time. If I could avoid talking to anyone, I did. In at least three separate instances, I recall sitting on the floor in my mother's room for hours as she tried to get me to talk and tell her what was wrong with me. Since I couldn't understand what was happening to me, I couldn't vocalize my feelings which meant I stayed on the floor. Finally, I would come up with something to say which earned me the freedom to leave her room. I wonder if I could have described what I was feeling, would my mother have recognized that I was experiencing depression similar to hers? Would she have opened up and tried to find a way to help me?<br />
<br />
<br />John & Suzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04065490622449965393noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5170132380034754036.post-45878093468536579582012-09-17T07:07:00.000-06:002012-09-17T07:07:08.671-06:00
<div align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">There were a couple of situations
that seemed to define for me the disease I had. I was sitting on the
couch looking out the window one afternoon and saw two neighbors just
chatting. The thought in my mind was I really needed to be outside
chatting with them. But when more than an hour passed and I hadn't
moved from my couch, I realized that no matter what my desire was, I
had no ability to put thought into action. Another incident was a day
I actually headed out my door and was going to get the mail. As I
opened the door, I saw another neighbor outside working in her garden
and I very quietly closed the door and quickly went back inside.
Everything became too hard. I couldn't answer my phone because I
didn't know who would be calling. What if they asked me a question
and it was difficult to answer? Making any kind of decision was a
huge challenge, an insurmountable obstacle. I stopped going to the
person who had cut my hair for years and went to someone that didn't
know me. I couldn't go to the store because if I ran into someone I
knew, I might be required to carry on a conversation and thinking of
something to say seemed like an impossible task.</span></span></div>
John & Suzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04065490622449965393noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5170132380034754036.post-69932408412305668462012-03-09T09:32:00.001-07:002012-03-09T09:33:35.559-07:00Effexor is giving me my life back!<p style="font-weight: medium" align="LEFT"><span style="font-size:130%;">First, my apologizes for my long absence. My illness turned into pneumonia and it has been a tough road.</span> </p> <p style="font-weight: medium" align="LEFT"><span style="font-size:130%;">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.</span></p> <p style="font-weight: medium" align="LEFT"><span style="font-size:130%;">I think I would still be paralyzed by the fear of what could happen. Thanks for all the encouragement to move forward. </span> </p> <p style="font-weight: medium" align="LEFT"><span style="font-size:130%;">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. </span> </p>John & Suzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04065490622449965393noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5170132380034754036.post-19736760183646703012012-02-05T06:17:00.001-07:002012-02-05T06:39:02.649-07:00My World Caved In<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: medium;"><span style="font-size: medium;">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.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: medium;"><br />
</div><div align="LEFT"><span style="font-size: medium;">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. </span></div><div align="LEFT"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: medium;"><span style="font-size: medium;">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.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: medium;"><br />
<br />
</div>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5170132380034754036.post-54104084329625111102012-01-13T05:48:00.002-07:002012-01-13T07:54:57.721-07:00Lessons I Learned<p style="font-weight: medium" align="LEFT"><span style="font-size:130%;">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.</span></p> <p style="font-weight: medium" align="LEFT"><span style="font-size:130%;">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. </span> </p>John & Suzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04065490622449965393noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5170132380034754036.post-54170799674458374182012-01-10T07:07:00.000-07:002012-01-10T07:11:31.681-07:00Understanding My Mother<p style="font-weight: medium" align="LEFT"><span style="font-size:130%;">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.</span></p> <p style="font-weight: medium" align="LEFT"><span style="font-size:130%;">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. </span> </p> <p style="font-weight: medium" align="LEFT"><span style="font-size:130%;">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. </span> </p>John & Suzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04065490622449965393noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5170132380034754036.post-24090520829171028742012-01-04T08:01:00.000-07:002012-01-04T08:01:58.185-07:00When Did I Really Get Depression?<div align="LEFT" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> <span style="font-size: small;">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.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">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.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">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).</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5170132380034754036.post-32856121540635261392011-12-31T11:57:00.000-07:002011-12-31T11:57:34.998-07:00Depression Incapacitates<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: medium;"><span style="font-size: medium;">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?</span></div>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5170132380034754036.post-27221287561463955482011-12-27T07:16:00.000-07:002011-12-27T07:16:42.291-07:00Thank you!I appreciate all the comments on changing medications. I think I can now at least make an appointment with my doctor and start the process. I will be sure to let you know how it goes.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5170132380034754036.post-15947390743132162112011-12-22T11:32:00.000-07:002011-12-22T11:32:17.551-07:00Do I Change My Medication?So for about 10 years I took Effexor for my depression. Then our insurance stopped covering the bulk of it and it would cost us about $200 per month. My doctor was great and just gave me samples until the drug companies stopped bringing them. I then switched to Prozac because I have siblings that have used it. I noticed no improvement and I was already too far down the pit so I went back in to the doctor. They gave me a second anti-depressant, Wellbutrin because it appeared that prozac only treated one out of three issues of depression.<br />
<br />
So my question is this: Effexor has finally come out with a generic for Effexor and now it is affordable. But I am scared to go off my other depression meds so that I can get on Effexor? I just don't know if I can handle another episode of darkness but Effexor worked so good for me and I really think it gave me my best 'new' normal life.<br />
<br />
Please, please share your thoughts and experiences that you have had with your meds!Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5170132380034754036.post-64660095293713947342011-12-16T04:25:00.000-07:002011-12-16T04:25:47.115-07:00MEDICATION!!A huge frustration of this disease is that it takes six to eight weeks to know whether the medication is working. If the first one you try doesn't work, you go right back to square one and start the process all over again. The first time I was held captive by depression, the months seemed to crawl by as the doctor and I tried to get the right medication and the right dose. Finally I slowly returned to a 'new' normal for me. I don't think I will ever be the same person I was before all this happened but I am happy to have found me again.<br />
<br />
After a little more than a year, my meds stopped working! I was falling back into the dark and couldn't find a rope or even a thread to hang on to. It took a lot longer to realize what was happening because I told myself I was on medication and this couldn't be happening. I went back to the doctor and we started the process over again. After six weeks and feeling no improvement, I was scared. I was at the airport and I saw my doctor. I ran over to him and the tears started to fall and I started pleading with him to get me a new prescription. I must have been a spectacle in the middle of the airport but at that moment nothing else seemed to matter. I was devastated when he told me I really needed to give it two more weeks. I wasn't sure I would survive two more weeks.<br />
<br />
That medication never did start to help but the second one I tried after that started to bring me back to my 'new' normal. It can be so discouraging and yet please believe that there is something out there that will help.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5170132380034754036.post-46294945268168965942011-12-09T07:58:00.000-07:002011-12-09T07:59:10.836-07:00You Are Not Alone!<p style="font-weight: medium" align="LEFT"><span style="font-size:130%;">Several months into my struggle with depression and still waiting and hoping the medication might start to work I had an experience that will always stay with me. I had gone to church but I was so tired and started to cry. I couldn't seem to control the crying so I went home. I sat at home for the next couple hours and cried. I didn't know how much longer I could survive in the bottomless pit. My husband came home from church and told me that one of the ladies had approached him. She then told him, “I feel as though Suzy is in a very dark place and if she ever wants to talk, tell her I am there”. </span> </p> <p style="font-weight: medium" align="LEFT"><span style="font-size:130%;">No words can express the small sliver of hope she had extended to me. She used words that told me she had been where I was and could understand what my suffering was all about. From then on I knew there was at least one other person that truly got it and I was not alone!</span></p>John & Suzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04065490622449965393noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5170132380034754036.post-6384996563754752182011-12-05T04:32:00.004-07:002011-12-05T12:33:56.380-07:00Judgment & Criticism<p style="margin-bottom: 0in" align="LEFT"><span style="font-size:130%;">Depression is a very difficult disease to understand and I speak personally of my own error in judgment of my mother before I suffered depression for myself. No one except those that have become afflicted with this disease can understand the pain and anguish of being in the suffocating blackness of our personal pits. No one can comprehend how desperately we try to find our way out with no success. I felt like this was something I should be able to do on my own and yet regardless of the prayers I offered and how badly I wanted a different life, I couldn't change. </span> </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in" align="LEFT"><span style="font-size:130%;">One of the most frustrating things about depression are the comments made by those around you and even those closest to you that suggest this is an easy fix! It is a very difficult disease to understand so if you do not have depression please do not offer advice! I wish others wouldn't trivialize what to me is such a devastating illness. We give ourselves enough grief and self doubt. We are in the bottom of the pit as it is and this only adds to our feelings of worthlessness.<br /><br />I have been told that if I would pray more then this would all go away. Other advice I have been offered has been; that I needed to have a positive attitude, read my scriptures, get out in the sun more, get outside of your home, get a job, have parties... the list goes on and on.</span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in" align="LEFT"><span style="font-size:130%;">Medication is such a miracle to those of us who have found medications that work. Without this we would be unable to get up everyday and function like a human being. I wish it wasn't so and cursing this disease made no difference.<br /> </span></p>John & Suzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04065490622449965393noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5170132380034754036.post-8626464602593595942011-11-28T06:12:00.003-07:002011-11-28T07:59:08.544-07:00Depression DiagnosisI couldn't sleep, I was crying all the time, my headaches became <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">excruciating</span> and I couldn't care for my family like I wanted. I felt as though I was headed for a nervous breakdown. It felt like I was in a deep pit where the walls were closing in and the blackness was suffocating. It was a darkness that sucked out all light, joy, desire and will.<br /><br />As I attempted to cope, I went to the doctor to get some help from the headache pain and he asked me if I could be suffering from depression. I hated that word! He had me fill out a questionnaire to determine if I was suffering from depression. I remember there being only about 10 questions. It took me more than an hour to complete the test and the nurse kept coming in to see if I was finished. I told her I had answered all the questions except for one. The one question I couldn't answer was if I had trouble making decisions!!!! I felt pretty stupid but I was done. The doctor came in and and told me he believed I was suffering from depression and he prescribed some medication. He also told me that anti-depressants would take 6 to 8 weeks for me to notice any difference and that I needed to be patient.<br /><br />I was so angry! I was angry at my mother for having the genes she passed to me. It was her fault. Things felt hopeless and my only survival instinct was to close my doors to the world and hold onto my family with everything I had. I grew up with a mother that lived behind closed doors and I wasn't going to shut my children out of my life so if that was the ONLY thing I could do, then so be it. My children also deserved to know what was going on with me. I didn't want a shroud of secrecy in our home. If I failed them, nothing else mattered. My eight children were the most important part of my existence.John & Suzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04065490622449965393noreply@blogger.com0