Robin Williams

I haven't written in this blog for a long time.  I've been busy between working full time, raising three teens (one who recently turned 21 and is no longer a teen) and living life there isn't much time to write a blog too.  Depression is part of my daily life, sometimes the pit is deeper than other times, but it has been manageable.

2014 is about to end and I'm so glad.  It was a year of endings for me.  Among other things my marriage ended and my grandmother died.  We lost a lot of wonderful celebrities too Shirley Temple, Mickey Rooney, Casey Kasem, Ann B. Davis, Lauren Bacall, Joan Rivers.  But the big one was Robin Williams.  I've seen so many posts about Robin Williams.  So many people who claim to have all the answers...he should've reached out!  He should've known how many people loved him!  Committing suicide is the most selfish act!  People who say they've experienced depression but managed not to kill themselves, or that have considered suicide but didn't do it, are very self righteous right now.

I'm going to go out on a limb here and say...maybe you don't really know what it was like.  You aren't Robin Williams.  In 1992-1993 I had the worst depression of my life.  I couldn't get out of bed most days.  Making it out in the late afternoon and getting to a doctor's appointment was a major accomplishment.  I had no life, no interests, no hobbies, nothing.  I wanted to be dead.  I thought that if I was dead then the pain would finally be over.

Some of my family and close friends noticed what was going on, and a few even asked me if I was thinking of harming myself.  Incredibly brave people they were!  I still thank God for them all the time.  I couldn't articulate my desire to be dead but that I didn't have any plans to do anything about it.  I remember distinctly driving on a windy road with trees along the side...wondering what speed I'd have to be going before I hit a tree to guarantee I'd die and not just be paralyzed.  I worried that my family would know it wasn't an accident and the fear of failure was probably all that kept me from trying.

I told them no, I wasn't thinking of harming myself.  It was a lie.  I didn't want to get into that discussion because I knew they'd never understand the difference between wanting to be dead and actually planning on doing it.  I was a chicken and afraid of all of the emotions that conversation would rile up.  Not in me, I didn't feel anything, but in my loved ones.  I was also afraid they might commit me against my will.  I wanted and needed help.  I didn't need to be locked up and medicated and electroshocked...okay, all I know about mental hospitals was from movies and books.

I managed to get out of the deep deep pit I was in.  Inch by slow inch.  It helped that I gave birth to an amazing baby boy (yes the 21 year old I talked about earlier) and he gave me a reason to keep trying.  I don't know what I would've done if I'd not been able to pull myself out.  At the time I didn't have medical insurance and I didn't have the wherewithal to even try to find those sliding scale places that are supposed to exist everywhere.  I did try and after three phone calls I hung up the phone and just sobbed.  It was too hard.

Suicide isn't a selfish act, not really.  It is an attempt to end the pain.

getting lower

When I'm healthy and call a friend who sounds distracted I think to myself that they must have something on TV that keeps catching their attention, or that they have something on their mind. When I'm depressed I think that they are trying to get me off of the phone because they don't want to waste their time talking to me.

When I'm healthy and someone cancels a date with me I believe the reason they give me and look forward to the time when we'll be able to get together in the future. When I'm depressed I'm sure they are lying to cover up the fact they don't really want to spend time with me.

When I'm healthy I can be happy for someone who is taking a vacation, buying a new car, getting a raise or promotion or achieves something that they have worked hard for. When I'm depressed all of those make me envious and miserable.

When I'm healthy I enjoy talking to my friends and loved ones. When I'm depressed I spend too much time analyzing those conversations to figure out what those people must really think of me.

I'm not sure if it is because of the rain but I'm getting lower lately. I keep going back to negative thoughts "no one likes me" and "I'm not worth anything." I keep thinking about everything that I've ever done wrong and anytime anyone has done anything that makes me think they don't like me. Often these times are when people are busy or distracted and usually I can remember that, but when I'm feeling down like this then those times seem personal.

I'm not sure why when I'm depressed that I'm so ready to believe that everyone hates me and no one wants me around. It is hard to feel like this and to make any effort to interact with anyone because I'm sure that by forcing them to call me I'm being a burden.

Next week I'm supposed to visit 'home' and I'm worrying that people resent having me around, don't really want to spend time with me, or simply will find a way to avoid me. I think I need to up my medications so I can get through this next week.

Is it just me?

I'm leaving soon to go 'home' and visit my family again. As usual I find myself dreading the leaving, but looking forward to seeing my loved ones. I hate leaving my comfortable bed and home. Oddly, after planning and looking forward to the trip, as it gets closer the more I look for a way out of it. This happens all the time as I think "maybe this isn't a good idea?" I'm not sure why.

I know part of it is the change in routine, the fatigue of the long drive, trying to fit everyone in and not leave anyone out. It is exhausting and it always seems that once I'm back I'll be squishing my busier workweek into a shorter period of time so I have no time to recover. All of that is a recipe for triggering some of my depressive symptoms.

Going Home

I just got back from spending a week visiting friends and family. My antidepressant seemed to be working and I thought that also going south were I'd be around more sun might also help. It was enjoyable to see everyone but also sad. Kids are growing up and everyone I left behind is moving on with their lives. While I enjoyed seeing everyone and they all made an effort to spend time with me I also felt like I was very dispensable. Life went on without me so easily.