Everywhere I look, it's gray. I feel like I am sinking in the quicksand of depression. I try to climb out; yesterday the sun was shining. Sunshine helps. I try to pull myself out of this bog. I barely get an arm free when the quicksand pulls me back down. It's easier to lie here in the grayness than to struggle to get free.
Somebody mentioned that flowers would help. I should go out and buy a plant for my house. But that would require going to the store and making decisions. It's hard to make decisions when your head is full of gray mush; the synapses don't connect.
Anti-depressants are supposed to correct a "brain imbalance". My brain is imbalanced??? Maybe the meds are just a crutch; some people think that way. I feel that depression is truly a medical condition. I get so down that I forget to take my medication.
Another person suggests music. I have music playing right now. It helps, especially at night when the house is cold, dark and lonely.
Don't worry. I am definitely not suicidal. There are people who depend on me. I just wish I could depend on myself.


Comments: 42
The lies we tell ourselves
tinted in our private colors
creating intricate maps, instructions
to hold us against our will
or better angels
upon a designated course,
they creep into our
chemical soup and wiring
immersed in thickening trickery
truth becoming shadow.
Rolling downhill so easily
scratches, contusions, bleeding wounds
unacknowledged in subterfuge
"It's such a beautiful summer day."
We say, etching out smiles,
even crinkles of the eye.
Alone, in the dark, troubling dreams
fail to dissipate at daybreak.
Rolling downhill, smashing into
hidden walls, jagged rock formations
Stop! Curl into pre-born refuge.
Listening to the angry words
"Surely I am cursed, a failure."
Never let the truth break through.
We are ordered to protect the lies
as insidiously they poison
and blind us.
More easily led.
Less alive.
Stop! Look! Listen!
Feel!
Underneath the grave of lies
rich earth has secrets to reveal.
Radiant seed, planted in our birth
only we may bring to life,
if we dare move,
beyond the damage,
beyond the lies,
dancing with the shadows
into brighter days.
(c) January 28, 2007 Laurie Corzett/libramoon
I think that a survey would probably reveal that about half of the people on Gather have either struggled with that in the past, or are dealing with it now. And we're all on your side, too.
Wishing you the best!
My feeling is that the medication makes the pain bearable enough so that we can begin to talk about it, sort through it, work through it and come out on the other side. Group therapy has helped me tremendously. If the idea of it sparks any interest at all, I highly recommend it.
My other thought is the old notion of temperaments. The so-called "melancholic" temperament is clearly a way of life for many people I know. They feel things more, they are alert to suffering around them. They are very dependable, but few people appreciate that they are carrying a private load. It can help, first, to know this as part of one's makeup, so that no self-blame is added on top. And the traditional balancer for this "earth" temperament is air, sanguinity. Literally stopping to breathe, breathing in strength and breathing out compassion; and figuratively just by taking interest in whatever presents itself, especially the light and the beautiful.
These are not replacement for what your MD can offer, but it can feel good also just to be doing something for yourself. Good luck!
I am on Paxil and I hate it. But I am scared to ween off too. Just know that you are among many who feel as you do!
PS. Thanks for introducing me to The Funny Guy. He is hilarious. It is impossible to be depressed when reading his stories!
I have done yoga in the past and should get back to that as it was very helpful, both in relieving stress and also pain.
One very simple thing I did when I was at my most depressed (I was suicidal, and this actually helped) was that when I woke up, I would make a list of ten things I was grateful for. I kept a notebook by my bed, and did it right away. They weren't big things, but they did remind me that life could actually be worse, which was something I'd lost perspective about. And before I went to bed, I made a list of ten things I'd accomplished during the day. Getting out of bed counted as an accomplishment, as did making it through the day. For some reason, doing this caused a little shift in my self-perception . . . in my own case, it caused enough of a crack to enable me to make a major breakthrough later.
The other thing I did that was helpful was to start a depression support group -- no professional facilitation, just six people who talked about their experiences, and particularly their experiences with medication. We were a failsafe middle-of-the-night emergency safety net for each other. It was invaluable.
What is amazing to me is the many doctors who do not understand depression. They can make you feel as though you are just imagining things. If you have a doctor like that, you need to find a new one who will understand that thought most people fight depression from time to time, there are others that is is part of their day to day living.
Good luck. You are among friends here so you can pour out your heart. Gather has a very supportive group of members.
I would love for you to tag this to my room, if you like.