A day in March....
I remember logging into my Psychiatrist’s
practice website to check my appointment status and staring frozen at the words
“condition” and “began”.
How did I get here? How did my condition become clinical/major
depression? How did I receive a
beginning date of 11/1/2001 when I don’t even remember how this even all
began? In a warped way, it was the
beginning of solace. The beginning of
understanding all of the sleepless nights, the racing thoughts, the hiding of
my sadness, guilt, self loathing, forgetfulness, weight gain and low energy. Many of my friends and family still struggle
with the words, “how could I not have known?”
Honestly, after months of examining myself, I don’t know that I saw the
freight train coming either.
Although I chose to personally
disclose my mental illness, I still see myself concerned about others
perceptions about me, which in turn, has created anxiety. This is something I have never struggled with
before. My recovery has had peaks and
valleys and honestly has been uncomfortable at times. Self-examination isn’t fun. I am at times at war with myself. Personal disclosure was important for me but
at the same time, it still causes frustration in the overall explanation of
mental illness and depression. How can I
explain to others what I don’t even understand at times?
I remember saying to my Doctor, “I
have no reason to be unhappy. I love my
husband. He loves me. I’m a newlywed. We have a new house. My parents love me. I have wonderful friends. I have a job I truly love. I am so blessed.” As I was saying all of those things, there
weren’t enough tissues in his office to wipe my tears.
Are you me?
Do you have a friend that you think
is me?
Please ask for help. It’s okay to count your blessings if you are
me, but it’s also okay not to hide your sadness. There is help available. There is recovery. There is hope. I am hope.
Need help? In the U.S., call 1-800-273-8255 for the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline.
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