Yeah, I know. I need help, and have only in the last couple of days accepted that fact.
I hate to talk about this topic, probably because I hate to be anymore vulnerable than I already perceive myself to be... and, I don't want to think of this as an excuse or a justification for anything that's gone wrong in my life, 'cause I want to believe that I'm better/stronger/smarter that all that. Like the character in Joni Mitchell's song, "Coyote," I'm "wrestling with my great big ego," right now.
Depression's like that, I suppose.
I can't help but think about those kids who have an older sibling fighting today, in this insane war, without reason -- my own difficulties began in early 1970, when I was six. My brother, who had just turned eighteen, had joined the Army National Guard. Just weeks after he'd completed basic training, the shootings at Kent State occurred. I didn't understand that he wouldn't be going to Vietnam; I didn't realize (nor could any adult assure me) that he wouldn't have to kill American kids on some college campus. I couldn't sleep, and would often be up half the night, vomiting, worrying that my brother would not be coming home. Irrational fears, perhaps, but a six year old can't really differentiate to that degree.
It had to be stressful on my parents -- my new stepmom, in particular. Dad was on the road 4-5 days every week, covering his territory as a regional sales rep for a large upholstered furniture manufacturer. So, my family doctor -- the man who delivered me, actually -- prescribed some type of anti-anxiety/sedative, to help me sleep. I still remember the ritual -- I don't know what the drug was, but it was a thin syrup, that looked like limeade, with a bunch of time-release balls, suspended within, that had to be refrigerated, and shaken vigorously before administering it, and it tasted horrible. I was always permitted a couple of crackers and some water, afterward, just to get the taste out of my mouth. I remember that taste as if I'd swallowed the foul stuff only yesterday. Apparently, it was pretty effective treatment -- I did great in school throughout my grade school years, and I don't remember when I stopped taking this medication, but it was well before my teen years.
More tomorrow; I really have to sleep.
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8 comments :
Jeff--as I confided in you, chronic clinical depression is my black dog. There is help, and you will receive it.
Love you.
JP,
Just know that even when times are tough, like they are right now, you have a country-wide family to talk to. Medication is a big help, and is even more effective when you talk things out.
And yes, I am a sykiatrist.
Be well.
I've sometimes also used the expression "black dog" to describe my depression. Was it Churchill who first identified depression as his "black dog?"
Medication is what really seems to be finally smoothing out the lows and the sharp edges of depression. I also think of it as the "dark night of the soul."
3/20/2006 9:29 PM
Take care of yourself, Jeffraham, and lean on the Eschatonians.
You sound like me when I was a kid - a worrier. Though you certainly had more substantive things to worry about than I did. I know it's hard to think of yourself as ill, but depression is an illness. It takes away the coping mechanisms and structures that exist to help us go through life - self-esteem, the ability to trust, rationalization, etc. (Thankfully, generosity and a sense of humour tend to stick it out the longest.) As someone who still struggles with depression & dysthymia, I understand it's hard to let yourself feel vulnerable. But you've taken the first, and hardest, step. You have friends who love you and want to help (like me! :D). Keep an eye out for treatment options, and take full advantage of Curly therapy. Hugs from...
"take full advantage of Curly therapy."
Charlotte Smith:
I'll second that notion! (I also agree with your comments about depression.)
Jeff:
Hope your day has been a good one for you, Jeff! Energy levels are not consistent when you're depressed, but I hope this weekend's suggestions have given you some energy and direction.
Sandy-LA 90034 -- They have, my darlin', they have. I'm limiting my online time right now, though, so I can focus on solving the more immediate issues. Please forgive my relative non-interaction for the next several days, as I sort through what I need to do. :) I know you know how difficult and overwhelming some of this can be. And, as always, thank you so much for your kind words and support.
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