Depression
February 22nd 2007 02:32
I feel I need to post on this most misunderstood affliction. I can only recount my own experience, so it may be limited to my perspective. Having said that, I dont want to get bogged down in all the terrible things in my life that made depression seem the icing on a very bad cake, I just want to talk about the THING itself and how its affected me.
I did not see a doctor for depression until 2002. However, I believe I was suffering from it as early as 14. After my parents broke up at 7, I was forced to see councillors all the time. I say forced because Mum saw one, she assumed I wanted to see one, enter a period of my life where once a week I'd get dragged out of class to 'talk' to a person I didnt know, didnt care about. All I cared about was the jeers of my class mates when I returned. "You're WEIRD" theyd say. Great. After already being teased for being fat and different, this was all I needed. By the time I was 14 and in high school, mum had given up on the councillors thinking me 'normal'. I spent a lot of time alone and I loved it. For the first time Mum was happy, going out and seeing people, I just didnt want to go. So my weekends consisted of staying up until 3am writing, reading and taping songs off the radio. I had a ball, keeping my own cmpany. Oh how I miss it.
Then I started to hear things. Now, most of you will think, hey, she talks to spirits, whatever she says, shes crazy! And this is true, my whole life I HAVE indeed, spoken to spirits, animals and other entities. As a child I would often talk about things that happened before I was born as if I had been there. Im not denying that Im weird. If any of you want to slap on a 'druggie' label, I did not touch any substance of any kind until after I was 18, and that is absolute truth. Brought up in a Catholic Primary school, I was dead scared of substances. My point is these voices scared me because I could hear them with my ears, not in the ether! I started to hear all sorts of things, which was nothing to the visual hallucinations and nightmares that began. Having just read some scary books, and applying 14 year old logic, I concluded I had vampires after me. Back to the councillor I went. A school councillor this time, as well as ringing kids help line every other night. I decided that the devil was after me, I was evil (Oh, I have such faith in the catholic religion!) and my best course now was to revel in it. It seemed no one could understand or help me. The hallucinations worsened, the nightmares became unbearable, I would sleep lazily all day(if I could) then run restlessly around all night, writing and beseeching the powers that be to set me free. I didnt talk much, afraid of what Id say, and began self harm even at that time when it wasnt publisized or 'cool'.
This went on for some time. Its amazing what the human mind can cope with. I got used to it. It was simply a part of life. Once I started working at 19/20, it was very hard to hide, when I had a particularly bad hallucination on the register I would just say to myself, "Is anyone else freaking out? No. Anyone else indicate they can see it at all? No. So, dont react, dont react, dont react..." This was actually easy for me, as I had learned through merciless teasing in high school AND primary school that the best way to piss off a bully is - Dont React. By the time I left school I could ignore rocks to the head. The hard ones were the auditory hallucinations. Id reply, or call out, thinking someone spoke to me, having to quickly cover it with a joke or something. On it went. I left my first retail job to go to Korea to manage a stable - a dream job for me.
Once there, I realized my folly. Id been sucked in. They broke the contract on the first day, and on that first day I saw more cruelty to animals than Id ever imagined existed in the world. I pledged myself to my new cause - to make life for these poor horses as bearable as I could. Alas, I was breaking down quicker. Hallucinations were fully fledged and venomous, I couldnt shake the sense of doom, the pain cutting into my heart every day for no apparent reason, the apathy, the dissasociation with the world while at the same time feeling everything too keenly. I started to become very loud - screaming instead of murmuring in my old reserved way. I started to cry at the oddest times, great heaving sobs that seemed to tear my whole body apart. The fact we were nearly starving to death did not help either - We were supposed to get free meals in the cafeteria, but my stomach couldnt handle the food, so I lived on 2 eggs and 2 pieces of bread a day.
This was where I learned never to ask the question "how could it get any worse?"
I spoke of Kai in 'The saddest day' and Im not going to go over it again. Lets just say he died, it was utterly horrific, the most barbaric thing Ive ever witnessed, utter, utter injustice, ignorance and cruelty at their worst. We returned home a short time later. I was full of hope. Everything looked like an impossible heaven to me - women free and mouthing off at their men, drinking water out of taps and real food, GOD real food! I shot back up to my 'natural' size of 85kg within a week.
I was back 2 weeks with minimal hassle when Raj, my Mums pure bred arab colt broke his leg and had to be destroyed. He was a light, a wonder, a christmas gift from me the previous christmas. For 2 weeks mum and I drank, cried and smoked, never leaving the couch, in a fog of grief.
Life prevailed. I went back to work in a factory with my man. I was hallucinating, I was hurting, but still, I kept telling myself Id be fine. The pain in my chest grew to massive proportions - it literally felt like my heart was being cut up in my chest, I couldnt stop crying, and had started to react to the hallucinations, I was so jumpy! I was so angry, so frustrated with everything. Up until this point I had never expressed my anger physically, by punching or destroying, I found it childish. One day I dropped a pile of videos. I stared at them, thinking it wasnt my fault Id dropped them, the place was a mess, I didnt want to pick them up!
This is the beginning of my lost time. I know, and have sketchy memories of, kicking the videos on the floor then attacking anything that moved. A wheelie bin bought it. I then locked myself in the bathroom and cut up my left arm with a razor blade, feeling that old satisfaction from back when Id been a teenager, the blood welling up, no pain, none at all, and finally something on the outside to show whats inside. Honestly, it was a relief. Of course everyone freaked when they saw my arm, sent me home. I spent a few days hiding in closets clinging to the phone and slowly making an enemy of every friend I had until I was packed in a car and sent to a councillor - AGAIN! I managed to terrify her, and she referred me to a mental health unit, who couldnt accept me!
It is a large miracle that I did not kill myself. Every doctor refused to take me seriously, even when jabbering or bleeding. I ended up with 4 councillors, 6 psychiatrists, and 2 nuerologists. They thought it could be physical, as Ive had A LOT of head injuries from horse riding. They all diagnosed different things - Psychosis, personality disorder, post traumatic shock, skitzophrenia, man, I had em all! The only one they all agreed on was depression and anxiety. Id started to have panic attacks, a new experience for me, always composed and rock solid on the outside, to fall apart in public. Ive never liked crowds and they make me nervous, but it had never been a problem before. Suddenly the very idea of leaving the house had me retching, gasping for breath and shaking like mad. I started to have involuntary movements(which I still have) which puzzled the doctors even more. They look like spastic jerks, and really unsettle people....
From Oct 2002 to Jun 2004 I have no clear flow of time. I know I was admitted to hospital for a suicide attempt - I took all my anit depressants at once for the simple reason that no one was there to stop me. I attempted it a lot more times, on busy roads, cliffs and other drugs, but was only admitted to hospital once.
The turning point? One day, my boyfriend, suffering himself by this stage, as everyone else had drifted away, gave me some worn out wisdom. You see, from my mum to my best friend, no one wanted to know me anymore. I was too crazy man, going on about whats between the cracks in the walls and that sunlight can crack reality so you can see the TRUTH. My man had pulled me back from cliffs, signed papers to stop me going into an institution, wrung his hands and begged and pleaded and cried. One day he just said something so simple - "what if you had to go to work and didnt know if Id be alive when you got back?"
I had already left all the doctors and accepted their migraine treatment but nothing else. I decided, alright, I'll get a job. I'll PRETEND to be normal. I'll try to hide it as best I can. I'll self medicate.
I got a job. I had panic attacks every single morning, great heaving retches that would downright terrify the other commuters, especially when Id start crying and hallucinating too. Pot saved my life at this point. Take one cone everyday before you catch bus. Sit at bus stop grinning stupidly until bus comes. Man, it worked! Once comfortable, I switched the drugs for a workout, and rapidly lost 25kg. Having always been dress size 14 -16, suddenly becoming an 8 was just the boost I needed.
I still hallucinate, but not as much. The pain is still there, cutting away in my chest, making me want to bawl, to give up, to fall into the well of hopelessness, but I do not. I live with the pain everyday, try to grow away from it. I have anxiety still, but I can control it with breath techniques. I cannot control the involuntary movements however. They are downright scary.
One thing depression does to you is make everything sharper, more personal. The slightest thing can set you off in a rage or to tears, or to stew over until your so upset you cant remember what you were stewing over! At the same time as making you more sensitive, you feel disassociated, out of touch, unable to change or even touch these things that are making you feel so bad. That, for me, is the essence of this - 'disease' 'affliction' 'mental illness' - has it been classified yet?
For my final note, damn all doctors, never met one yet who could treat ANY of my afflictions, I have never been healthier than when I treat myself(hehe). And beware the restrictions and the guilt taught by the catholic church....Im still trying to get over the fact that Im living in sin.
I did not see a doctor for depression until 2002. However, I believe I was suffering from it as early as 14. After my parents broke up at 7, I was forced to see councillors all the time. I say forced because Mum saw one, she assumed I wanted to see one, enter a period of my life where once a week I'd get dragged out of class to 'talk' to a person I didnt know, didnt care about. All I cared about was the jeers of my class mates when I returned. "You're WEIRD" theyd say. Great. After already being teased for being fat and different, this was all I needed. By the time I was 14 and in high school, mum had given up on the councillors thinking me 'normal'. I spent a lot of time alone and I loved it. For the first time Mum was happy, going out and seeing people, I just didnt want to go. So my weekends consisted of staying up until 3am writing, reading and taping songs off the radio. I had a ball, keeping my own cmpany. Oh how I miss it.
Then I started to hear things. Now, most of you will think, hey, she talks to spirits, whatever she says, shes crazy! And this is true, my whole life I HAVE indeed, spoken to spirits, animals and other entities. As a child I would often talk about things that happened before I was born as if I had been there. Im not denying that Im weird. If any of you want to slap on a 'druggie' label, I did not touch any substance of any kind until after I was 18, and that is absolute truth. Brought up in a Catholic Primary school, I was dead scared of substances. My point is these voices scared me because I could hear them with my ears, not in the ether! I started to hear all sorts of things, which was nothing to the visual hallucinations and nightmares that began. Having just read some scary books, and applying 14 year old logic, I concluded I had vampires after me. Back to the councillor I went. A school councillor this time, as well as ringing kids help line every other night. I decided that the devil was after me, I was evil (Oh, I have such faith in the catholic religion!) and my best course now was to revel in it. It seemed no one could understand or help me. The hallucinations worsened, the nightmares became unbearable, I would sleep lazily all day(if I could) then run restlessly around all night, writing and beseeching the powers that be to set me free. I didnt talk much, afraid of what Id say, and began self harm even at that time when it wasnt publisized or 'cool'.
This went on for some time. Its amazing what the human mind can cope with. I got used to it. It was simply a part of life. Once I started working at 19/20, it was very hard to hide, when I had a particularly bad hallucination on the register I would just say to myself, "Is anyone else freaking out? No. Anyone else indicate they can see it at all? No. So, dont react, dont react, dont react..." This was actually easy for me, as I had learned through merciless teasing in high school AND primary school that the best way to piss off a bully is - Dont React. By the time I left school I could ignore rocks to the head. The hard ones were the auditory hallucinations. Id reply, or call out, thinking someone spoke to me, having to quickly cover it with a joke or something. On it went. I left my first retail job to go to Korea to manage a stable - a dream job for me.
Once there, I realized my folly. Id been sucked in. They broke the contract on the first day, and on that first day I saw more cruelty to animals than Id ever imagined existed in the world. I pledged myself to my new cause - to make life for these poor horses as bearable as I could. Alas, I was breaking down quicker. Hallucinations were fully fledged and venomous, I couldnt shake the sense of doom, the pain cutting into my heart every day for no apparent reason, the apathy, the dissasociation with the world while at the same time feeling everything too keenly. I started to become very loud - screaming instead of murmuring in my old reserved way. I started to cry at the oddest times, great heaving sobs that seemed to tear my whole body apart. The fact we were nearly starving to death did not help either - We were supposed to get free meals in the cafeteria, but my stomach couldnt handle the food, so I lived on 2 eggs and 2 pieces of bread a day.
This was where I learned never to ask the question "how could it get any worse?"
I spoke of Kai in 'The saddest day' and Im not going to go over it again. Lets just say he died, it was utterly horrific, the most barbaric thing Ive ever witnessed, utter, utter injustice, ignorance and cruelty at their worst. We returned home a short time later. I was full of hope. Everything looked like an impossible heaven to me - women free and mouthing off at their men, drinking water out of taps and real food, GOD real food! I shot back up to my 'natural' size of 85kg within a week.
I was back 2 weeks with minimal hassle when Raj, my Mums pure bred arab colt broke his leg and had to be destroyed. He was a light, a wonder, a christmas gift from me the previous christmas. For 2 weeks mum and I drank, cried and smoked, never leaving the couch, in a fog of grief.
Life prevailed. I went back to work in a factory with my man. I was hallucinating, I was hurting, but still, I kept telling myself Id be fine. The pain in my chest grew to massive proportions - it literally felt like my heart was being cut up in my chest, I couldnt stop crying, and had started to react to the hallucinations, I was so jumpy! I was so angry, so frustrated with everything. Up until this point I had never expressed my anger physically, by punching or destroying, I found it childish. One day I dropped a pile of videos. I stared at them, thinking it wasnt my fault Id dropped them, the place was a mess, I didnt want to pick them up!
This is the beginning of my lost time. I know, and have sketchy memories of, kicking the videos on the floor then attacking anything that moved. A wheelie bin bought it. I then locked myself in the bathroom and cut up my left arm with a razor blade, feeling that old satisfaction from back when Id been a teenager, the blood welling up, no pain, none at all, and finally something on the outside to show whats inside. Honestly, it was a relief. Of course everyone freaked when they saw my arm, sent me home. I spent a few days hiding in closets clinging to the phone and slowly making an enemy of every friend I had until I was packed in a car and sent to a councillor - AGAIN! I managed to terrify her, and she referred me to a mental health unit, who couldnt accept me!
It is a large miracle that I did not kill myself. Every doctor refused to take me seriously, even when jabbering or bleeding. I ended up with 4 councillors, 6 psychiatrists, and 2 nuerologists. They thought it could be physical, as Ive had A LOT of head injuries from horse riding. They all diagnosed different things - Psychosis, personality disorder, post traumatic shock, skitzophrenia, man, I had em all! The only one they all agreed on was depression and anxiety. Id started to have panic attacks, a new experience for me, always composed and rock solid on the outside, to fall apart in public. Ive never liked crowds and they make me nervous, but it had never been a problem before. Suddenly the very idea of leaving the house had me retching, gasping for breath and shaking like mad. I started to have involuntary movements(which I still have) which puzzled the doctors even more. They look like spastic jerks, and really unsettle people....
From Oct 2002 to Jun 2004 I have no clear flow of time. I know I was admitted to hospital for a suicide attempt - I took all my anit depressants at once for the simple reason that no one was there to stop me. I attempted it a lot more times, on busy roads, cliffs and other drugs, but was only admitted to hospital once.
The turning point? One day, my boyfriend, suffering himself by this stage, as everyone else had drifted away, gave me some worn out wisdom. You see, from my mum to my best friend, no one wanted to know me anymore. I was too crazy man, going on about whats between the cracks in the walls and that sunlight can crack reality so you can see the TRUTH. My man had pulled me back from cliffs, signed papers to stop me going into an institution, wrung his hands and begged and pleaded and cried. One day he just said something so simple - "what if you had to go to work and didnt know if Id be alive when you got back?"
I had already left all the doctors and accepted their migraine treatment but nothing else. I decided, alright, I'll get a job. I'll PRETEND to be normal. I'll try to hide it as best I can. I'll self medicate.
I got a job. I had panic attacks every single morning, great heaving retches that would downright terrify the other commuters, especially when Id start crying and hallucinating too. Pot saved my life at this point. Take one cone everyday before you catch bus. Sit at bus stop grinning stupidly until bus comes. Man, it worked! Once comfortable, I switched the drugs for a workout, and rapidly lost 25kg. Having always been dress size 14 -16, suddenly becoming an 8 was just the boost I needed.
I still hallucinate, but not as much. The pain is still there, cutting away in my chest, making me want to bawl, to give up, to fall into the well of hopelessness, but I do not. I live with the pain everyday, try to grow away from it. I have anxiety still, but I can control it with breath techniques. I cannot control the involuntary movements however. They are downright scary.
One thing depression does to you is make everything sharper, more personal. The slightest thing can set you off in a rage or to tears, or to stew over until your so upset you cant remember what you were stewing over! At the same time as making you more sensitive, you feel disassociated, out of touch, unable to change or even touch these things that are making you feel so bad. That, for me, is the essence of this - 'disease' 'affliction' 'mental illness' - has it been classified yet?
For my final note, damn all doctors, never met one yet who could treat ANY of my afflictions, I have never been healthier than when I treat myself(hehe). And beware the restrictions and the guilt taught by the catholic church....Im still trying to get over the fact that Im living in sin.
| 86 |
| Vote |
subscribe to this blog
Comment by Wendi
I've been a part of "the freak club" for many moons. I've learned to lived with it, but more importantly, I've grown to celebrate my unique attributes.
Here's the thing. No matter which "group" you find yourself surrounded with, there will be several groups that support your lifestyle, some that oppose it with vengeance, and some that just won't give a hoot one way or the other.
I admire the fact that you're writing it raw... another great key to healing.
W
Comment by Ash
Flashes of memories
It is terrible that people do not realise that depression is a disease and that it is not something that you can just .snap out of' and I agree what you say about the doctors...although I guess their methods work for some they do not work for all, unless it is just the wrong doctors that have been given all the authority.
Sounds like you have really gone through some struggles there...and that you have come out stronger and wiser for them...YOU GO GIRL! You sound like a very strong spirited person....
ash
Comment by katyzzz
Photography Tips
MS Paint Art
I think you've got things pretty well worked out there. I understand what you say about doctors, but they do do some good in certain situations and some are better than others.
Good psychological cousellors sometimes do better.
Rather you than me, these things are very hard to cope with, I've had a few episodes in the past
and received good help.
In hindsight it seems that doctors act according to a set formula which can be distressing for an individual patient. I feel for you as a little girl, I had a pretty stress free childhood.
Life, somehow, is not fair.
katyzzz
Comment by Candice
I'm sure it will also help others in a similar situation to hear your story. Very courageous of you to share it!
Comment by Kleonaptra
Kalikapsychosis
Thanks for your comments. No matter how many times I tried to celebrate my differences, I always felt bad for it. Im now reaching a final point where I can just walk down the street and say "this is who I am" no matter what mood Im in. I feel a deep need to define myself as a person - but TO myself, no one else - one of the reasons Im here.
Ash,
Thankyou darl. I thought it was time for some brutal honesty...A bit of an explanation as to where all my scary poetry is coming from. I also meant to point out that for a long time I didnt believe in mental illness of any kind, and have really learned my lesson. By the same token, too many people Ive seen in group sessions or hospitals "give in" and decide to wallow there, making no attempt to get better. Unacceptable! If I can do it, ANYONE can!
Katyzzz,
Darling, this post was for you, mostly. I know I told you once that I hoped all the bad things that had happened to me never touched you...In my upbringing there were lies and deciet, child abuse and abandonment. It was that 'set formula' that bothered me with every single medical person I saw, because I didnt fit in to it! It was very, very hard for me to learn the lesson of life not being fair, but now that I follow my own way I try to live by balance, instead of half baked ideas about 'good' and 'evil' when really, its all Divine.
Comment by Kleonaptra
Kalikapsychosis
Comment by Mrs M
Mum's Word
Love & stuff
Mrs M
Comment by Kleonaptra
Kalikapsychosis
You are such a sweetheart, and I appreciate your comment so much. But this has less to do with trust and more to do with education. I NEED people to know that Ive survived, (still surviving) thus, anyone can. If I was standing in a public forum, that would be courage and bravery personified - but here? Like I said before, bit wussy! I just hope the message gets out. Thats my goal.