NEW Feeling Everything and Nothing (My Experience of Depression)

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Product:	My Experience of Depression
Date:	28/08/01 (15 review reads)
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Advantages: None

Disadvantages: Lots

*Coughs*

Take a seat and pour yourself a drink, we're going to be here a while.

Firstly a poem to open tonight's proceedings. I can see you've raised your eyebrow already, but wait, but wait. Please.

When Harry met Sally.
I find myself smiling at the absolute hell of it all
Sometimes I laugh out loud, but mostly I cry
Miss J Williams died yesterday leaving
A mother who never had a clue, various estranged loved ones
Bin bags full of clothes she never wore, a soul mate she never found
Her student debt is cancelled, the vodka bottles recycled
He hears about it and goes to the pub.
Six weeks later
He finds himself thinking about the time
When they used to understand each other
Is that all 25 years is worth?
Probably. I tried my best.

Secondly, I would like to thank you for joining me here tonight, some of the faces look familiar.

I have decided to write this opinion , not to gain the kind comments and support that are often the appreciated response to such personal pieces of writing, but rather to try and gain some greater understanding of the situation in which I find myself and hopefully also assure someone who is feeling the very same thing as I, that they are not alone.

I do realise that this need for catharsis is quite egocentric, especially placed upon the dooyoo forum, but from the begining of September I will be entering the realms of psychotherapy and can return to the inane little witterings I usually placate you with.

I have always been a deeply pensive person, I blame Neptune being in my birthchart (?!), No I don't really blame anything imparticular for it. Thinking too much has always been my way. I have found solace in the reading and writing of poetry since the age of ten or perhaps even earlier.

However, from the age of fourteen I found that my mood swings were almost unbearable, to both myself and my family. The docto
r found nothing wrong with me , but suggested that I had severe premenstual tension and the like.

So for years, my parents put my erratic and often suicidal behaviour down to my 'artistic temperment'. Even when I tried to commit suicide on two separate occasions, nothing was said, nothing was done.

It was at the age of nineteen that I realised that I was depressed. I hate it when people say ' I was really depressed today because Liverpool lost the match' because the phrase is bandied about with such thoughtlessness.

Depression in my experience, is not about feeling sad or simply being in a bad mood. If I am in a 'nark' over something I can shake it off within half an hour, but once I am depressed the veil comes down and the sensation can last a day, a week, a month or even longer.

People often say 'Cheer up' but how can you be expected to pull yourself out of a quagmire of every bad feeling you've ever had about yourself and your life? It is even worse when people say this to me when I feel nothing at all and even doing mundane everyday tasks become as overwhelming as climbing Mount Everest.

If I could cheer up, I really would. I keep my sense of humour as safe as my Philosopher's Stone because I know that depression is not a part of me, but rather a boggy marsh I must walk though at this time in my life.

So much of the illness relies on my weakness. So much of this damned thing makes me obsess about trivialities, about things that have passed.

When the doctors ask if I am suicidal , I immediately say no, because I have no will to die. I have already had three near misses so I haven't fought to stay here, just to be washed away by my own self pity and insecurities.

The main thing I hate about this illness is that it is so overwhelming that I neglect the present and those around me who geniunely care for me, at times all I can do is cling on by my fi
ngernails as I smile and try to keep things ticking over.

I am sorry that this opinion is so self indulgent. All I have to say in closing, is that if you enjoyed reading this op, do not offer kind comments, but rather press the little button and give some love and affection to the people you care about in your life. And then I will have made a difference, maybe not to you, but to that person who now smiles inside because you're there.

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Having shared with you how my depressive illness effects me emotionally , I thought it was about time to share with you recent developments in the situation.

Over the past month or so I have been plagued with suicidal thoughts. I even went as far as to plan my funeral, write out my will and plan possible means. I did not want to die as such but I wanted this feling to leave. I was sliding further into the concept that death was the only solution.

I realized that I was in serious danger of hurting myself and those around me. Although I always listen to the woes of my friends and trust them implicitly, I could not tell anyone this without the fear of everyone being disappointed in me, for thinking that I was selfish.

I realized that I did have a choice. So I called up my doctor and told him about what I was going through. I thought that he would think that I was wasting his time but, nothing could be further from the truth.

He visted me that afternoon and agreed that I was in a serious situation. Due to my knowledge of the system, thanks to my budding career in cognitive psychology ( I kid you not) I knew what options lay ahead of me.

I agreed to go to see the psychiatrist at the local hospital with the notion of being admitted to the psychiatric ward for my own safety. I was scared to death at the idea of being sectioned, but I knew that if it boiled down to that then I ha
d to do it. I could not carry on living as I was and if that was the spark I needed for things to change so be it.

After discussing the situation with a member of the Mental Health Crisis Team, I agreed to another intervention into my situation.

It has only started this week , so it is early days and I will keep you posted , because I think it is paramount that people with depression realize that they are not the only people to be in that dreadful situation and that there are people to help.

I have just began an intensive course of Cognitive Behavioural Therapy. This works on the basis of making the individal more aware of the negative thought patterns associated with their illness.

By becoming aware of these patterns, the person change their habits. This is far from easy when you have spent a whole lifetime thinking in a certain way, but I hope it will be a useful tool to help me through this difficult period in my life.

The Team Member visits me twice weekly and we agree on set tasks and fulfil a handout that makes you give examples of your own negative thought patterns. This may sound largely ineffective but it really is, for the want of a better phrase, thought provoking.

I have also made my doctor review my current medication (Citalopram, 20 mg and the contraceptive injection Depro Provera). This was as I had heard rumours that Depo was in fact a depressive. I researched into this idea and found evidence that this was the case. I am planning a further opinion to expand on my findings.

My antidepressant dosage is being increased to a more therapautic level, whereas, I have decided to halt the Depo injections as soon as my next dose is due.

If you are having problems sinilar to mine please , please just take one thing from reading this. DO NOT THINK YOU ARE BEYOND HELP. There is a way around everything, do not simply accept what the doctor prescribes for you. It is your life and if something
doesn't feel right. Question it. Don't be afraid of being seen as a nuiscance. Doctors are there to help.


Eventhough I still feel as bad as ever, hence me 'sacking off' dooyoo for a while to concentrate on this before I scare myself even more, I do hope that I at least have found an option that doesn't lie at the bottom of an empty bottle. At the moment I have to be selfish. Just to keep myself here.
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Its now a few weeks since my last update. I have kept a journal of all my negative thoughts and practised my Cognitive Behavioural Therapy, but alas although my dosage has been increased I still feel absolutely overwhelmed by it all. I actually found myself planning my funeral again today.

Pretty morbid hey? Well, I have realised that although therapy and meds can play their part , it is ultimately MY attitude towards the whole thing that is the key .

I do feel that I am in a relentless battle with this two year old child I have been carrying around with me. My arms ache with the weight. I liken depression to a child because , just when I think it is resting, it screams it's lungs out and tests me.

I am giving the meds another week and if I don't feel any better then back to the doctors. Suicide is not an option.
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It's been a while since I really felt negative about the whole thing, but then I was burgled last week and the whole episode knocked me for six. I drank so much alcohol that I wet the bed. Isn't that just disgusting? In fact I was so annoyed with myself that I started cutting myself again. Ah no the big black dog has come home. Whenever I think of my depression I now visualise the big black dog from Harry Potter.

I went to the Doctor to ask him if he could up my dosage or anything and he replied that ' I was a psychology stud
ent so I really shouldn't be suffering from depression.' How I didn't swear at him I don't know. Now on Paroxetine Hydrochoride Tablets (40 mg) eventhough my psychiatrist insists that I should not be on anti depressants, I don't feel strong enough not to be at the moment.

Met someone I like lots but find myself thinking about negative 'what if's' and then think 'why should he have to put up with my shite when he hardly knows me'. Lots of mood swings. Have confirmation of psychotherapy process moving along nicely. People wouldn't just be left with a broken arm, so why am I alone with a broken mind. Ok maybe not broken, just badly sprained.

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