It's funny how you really don't know people online, yet some people really touch you deeply. Because of my own experiences with depression, I can relate. I have had several loved ones who have fought it throughout their lives as well. It's truly insidious; I'd almost call it evil, even though I know a scientist would look at it as a matter of unbalanced chemicals. Depression eats away at the spirit, not just the mind, after all.
I included this in my comment to John:
When I was suicidal, my greatest fear was that I would have a moment of total despair and just do it, with no chance of backing out. I wasn't the type of depressed person who thought about suicide all the time. I had emotional 'storms' where--if I could just get in bed and hug something and wait it out for about a half-hour, I would be alive. Not okay, really, but alive. It was almost like a seizure of self-obliteration. I really feared having one whilst driving. Fortunately, things transpired where the car died and it wasn't as likely.
For a moment, even though it's a sunny day and it's Friday and I'm really quite happy, I was back in that place again. It never truly leaves you, I think. Now it's something I can draw strength from, at least. But I know, too, as Sarah MacLachlan sings, that it's 'one mistep before you know it', and that it's easy to be dragged back into the hell of depression.
On Wednesday, I'm going to talk to a class as part of Dwana's presentation on diversity and people with disabilities, to explain what barriers there are and stereotypes a person has to deal with when dealing with mental illness. One thing that I think is very important in mental illness issues is that the individual himself is likely to dismiss his own strengths, to buy into an idea of being 'damaged' or not 'strong enough' because of the illness. I'm sure people with physical disabilities feel like that sometimes, too, but I think the stigma with mental illness is so strong that it is worse when dealing with mental illness.
In some ways, depression is like cancer. We talk about fighting. We talk about someone 'succumbing' to depression, just as with cancer, like it's this thing that if they're just strong enough, they'll overcome. It implies that those who do die somehow fail, or were weak.
It's not the survival that makes you strong, so much as the living. How you live your life when dealing with something as overwhelming as depression or cancer says more about your character than the final outcome.
The difference is that whereas there comes a time in some cancers that the patient and family must come to grips with the final, mortal outcome, and may (hopefully) prepare for this through hospice, depression really need not be terminal.
I have really mixed feelings on depression and suicide. On the one hand, I do believe that each individual should have the final choice of whether or not he'll live or die. For some, I could see suicide as a blessing, especially if the pain or imminent mortality of the physical body, such as with a terminal illness, is really too much to bear.
But depression is a terrible trickster; it makes us lose all hope even when hope exists. It drags us into the belief that life itself is not bearable. It ignores the fact that time changes the circumstances of life, and that even depression, no matter how severe, usually remits on its own, eventually. The trick is getting through that period when there seems to be nothing to live for. Sometimes having the support of loved ones can help. Sometimes medicine can. But in the end, I think it's what goes on in the person's head that's most important, because no one else can truly understand what's in there at the moment, even if they've dealt with similar issues; we all live inside ourselves differently.
If you haven't dealt with depression, I hope this helps you understand it a little. If you have someone you love with it, find out everything you can about what you can do to help; don't dismiss it as something minor, or easily overcome. Think about how you would feel if they told you they had cancer. It really is that big. Learn patience. Help the person get medicine or therapy or deal with the little everyday things (like bills, or bureaucracy) that overwhelm someone with depression. Listen. Express hope. Never let go. But understand that in the end, the final decision rests with the person. If you lose them, do not blame yourself. Do not second guess what you could or could not have done, but care for those left behind, or volunteer for a suicide hotline. Find a way to take this evil and transform it to good.
And if you do come out of depression, having faced your daemons, do the same. You'll appreciate life more fully. You'll love more fully, once life has light in it again. You can understand others who are in pain, and it can be frightening to go back to that place in order to help them. But it isn't a defininition of who you are. You are not depression. You are a person who as part of your life has struggled with darkness. It can be a foundation of great strength in having that second chance to live. Take that strength and use it to work out underlying issues and care for the mind, soul, and body on a daily basis as a way to prevent a recurrence. Live. Love. Shine.
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