Depression: the awful sequel
April 30, 2011So, the thing is, I am not feeling all that well.
Sometimes you just need to say it. I feel bad! I am feeling poorly. In the head, that is.
I had a lovely time on tour and at the conference--I truly did! I wasn't the crying-on-the-inside clown I can sometimes be at these things--but shortly after I got back a whole cascade of awfulness knocked me right over. I could blame it on exhaustion, and I'm sure that contributed, but also I've been adjusting to some new meds mixed in with withdrawal from my old meds. My old meds, which, it became clear, I still needed, so now I'm back on 'em. Plus the new one. Plus another one, for anxiety. It's getting very Valley of the Dolls up in here. I've got a Lazy Susan of pill bottles.
The acute horror of depression-recurrence has abated, mostly--I'm ambulatory, able to laugh and shower, and so on. But I haven't yet experienced that relief that washes over me when I realize my brain is back to its regular, happy hum. I'm no longer horrible, but I'm frustrated. And irritated. And maybe a little despairing? Every time this recurs, I feel the teensiest bit hopeless. I like to believe I have my Depression beat, but here it's been lurking in the shadows all this time, waiting, ready to pounce.
That dick.
Reader Comments (63)
Get some sleep, drink some water, stab some pillows, make Scott pour buckets of water on you from a ladder as you try to perfect that Flashdance routine. In other words, do whatever you have to do to take care of yourself.
That sounds yucky to be dealing with. :-( I hope that the Lazy Susan of pills (love that image) kicks in soon and gives you the "brain hum" you're searching for. Hang in there!
Flashdance routine--that's what I need! Thanks, Danielle!
(Off to gather buckets right now.)
(Addendum: You are LOVED, and handling this so well. I'm proud of you for taking the steps to get back on track.)
I do not suffer from depression (besides a brief bout with pre-partum malaise that I did not know at the time was an actual thing) but am married to someone who does, and have spent a long time trying to figure out what it's like for him to essentially feel at times like he is a prisoner in his own head. It makes me so angry that the chemicals in our brain can screw things up so royally, and make us feel like such shit. Dick is the best word to describe it, for sure.
Hoping for brighter days to come for you, Alice.
It's such a fucking bear. Hang in there. Oh god, I'm writing RHYMING POETRY ABOUT DEPRESSION.
I've never commented on your blog before, but as a fellow depression-fighter I have to offer my support, understanding, and wholehearted "this indeed doth verily suck." I tell people I've got a lifelong condition that I manage, not something that I'll ever be "cured" of -- and most of this managing feels like I'm constantly trying to outwit a clever beast luring me into a black hole of downward spiraling. Drugs help. So do friends. So do elaborate metaphors (but that might just be me using my English PhD).
Best of luck outwitting your beast!
The same thing happened to me when I got home. It had been building before, there was that break, and then I got back here and all mental hell broke loose.
I have an appointment Monday. I've told the people I need to tell the things I don't want to have to tell them, again, because that is what they want me to do. And the truth is that I just don't feel like doing this again, because it's a pain in the ass. And you'd think I'd have it under control by now, and that every time it wouldn't feel so arduous and new. But it does, and that's that.
I'm sorry you're feeling it and I'm glad you're talking about it. It's not only helpful for you (I know it is, even the smallest bit) but because, selfishly, it makes it a little easier for people like me to talk about it too. It is a dick.
I completely feel your pain. I've been stepping down from Effexor since the beginning of the year, and I'm now at the point of counting out granules from pills because they don't make a smaller dosage and the withdrawl is so horrible that I NEED to take SOMETHING.
What's worse is that I don't feel the withdrawl any more, but I don't feel well either, and so maybe I need to step back up to the minimum dose and stick with that for a while (months? years? rest of my life?) I just don't know, it's all so awful, but I really appreciate you talking about it because it makes me feel a little less alone in this. (In fact, it was bloggers (you included) that helped me reach out and get help in '05 when the depression & anxiety had taken over my life. Putting this part of yourself out there is so brave and I can't thank you enough for it.)
I'm crossing my fingers and saying a little prayer for you, figuring out the right combo of meds is never fun. Good luck.
There's a reason I dubbed my depression The Shadow Vulture. Because it lurks and it hangs out just behind you, sort of hovering, and waiting to swoop in again. Even when you're doing well, he's out there. And then one day you wake up and take a depression questionnaire on a whim, because you've been feeling a little bit down. You assume it will come back with "you are a bit melancholy! cheer up!" and instead it says "you are moderately to severely depressed: you should seek help," and you go....fuck. Here we go again.
It is definitely a chronic illness and it sucks. A lot. Stupid brainmeats. But you get on the pill train again and things even out again and then you are thankful for so many pharmaceutical options! And also your support system. I have a great support system.
Hang in there, Alice. We love ya.
Depression is SUCH a fucking dick. So is anxiety. And when they get together? What a couple of assholes. You are not alone in this. Do you know that Of Montreal song "Heimdalsgate Like A Promethean Curse"? Ignore the ridiculous title...it's a catchy tune about brain chemicals and it always helps me out, even if just for a while.
I think the hardest part of depression is telling others and dealing with all of that. Good for you for telling and best of luck as you deal with it. Take good care of yourself.
Meghan: the granules! I wrote about my Effexor withdrawal a few years back. I will NEVER go on Effexor again, knowing what that withdrawal was like. Hang in there.
I'm just going to offer a hug, and the it's-not-enough-and-somewhat-trite sentiment, "I know."
Okay, and lots of "meds, do thy job!" vibes.
Oof, lady, I am sorry. If it helps at all (it probably doesn't), I am in the same boat, except I'm facing going on meds in the first place and I'm filled with dread and riddled with ennui.
I'm so sorry, dear Alice. That blows. I've been thinking about needing a med adjustment myself... I've only been medicated a bit over a year, and the relief I got from my PMS is gone and I'm back to having a full-blown depression and rage about ten days a month. Which sucks.
Thanks for inspiring me to take care of myself.
Thank you for this....it is incredibly brave to speak about a private subject so publicly--and it is also very generous. The more we talk openly about depression, the more those who are suffering will feel encouraged about getting help...and the more who have loved ones who suffer will understand just what is involved in battling such a hideous disease. Sending good vibes your way in hopes you'll find peace in your tweaking.
Thanks for your bravery, your wit, and good example. And love to you. Coming out of a bad slump, I can attest ... the love gives the meds some good support.
I am finding that conferences are not so good for my mental health. I don't know if it's the travel, or the break in routine, or the social anxiety, or a combination of all of the above, but I seem to spiral upon coming home, pretty much every time. I've got my own little lazy susan going on right now. Also, a jumbo weekly pill case like my grandma had, because at the ripe age of 36 I can't be trusted to remember what pills I have or haven't already taken in any given day.
Anyways, thanks for talking about it. Not that I want others to be suffering, but it's nice knowing we're not alone.
I am on the same merry-go-round of depression fun that you are. I have tried and failed every single antidepressant in the past 16 years. I just recently failed my last on in epic proportions where I spent days in my bath robe cursing at the dogs and not answering my phones. I also have the wonderours joy of batteling severe, chronic back pain. So I do so understand your pain so much and if you ever need someone to eat junk food with and bitch at the world, I am your gal. (hugs)
I know what you mean. Depression is like smoke sometimes, curling in under the cracks in our shield, ready to pounce whenever it can.
The last time I was there, I remember the going through the motions part, and the slightly less awful part. And then, eventually, suddenly, I found myself on the other side. Sometimes just saying it helps boost you up. Sharing helps.
You'll get to the other side again, where there's hope, and that heavy feeling of awfulness is gone, or leashed and caged. For promise. *hugs*
Can I tell you, that I have always hoped my depression would somehow disappear.
Forever.
But, it comes and goes. Sometimes loud, sometimes just sneaking around the edges.
I know believe it will always be here.
And, when I'm tired, or gone away from home, which is my haven, then it rears up big and ugly.
I need to take care of myself so much more than others do.
I need to eat right, sleep right, get my water, be alone enough, be with my family enough, not be gone...
So many weights have to be in balance on my scale.
It's a full time job.
Also, so sorry you're not feeling yourself.
Still, you make me laugh with "getting very Valley of the dolls here."
Does the lopressor still work?
Maybe it's just the weather. I've been clinging to my own inner life raft for the past few weeks too. I know my rational self is around here somewhere as is yours. If you see mine tell it I miss it, I'll do the same for you:)
Although I'm sure it doesn't make your brain feel any better, I wanted to tell you that you're still the great writer you've always been, even when you're under the influence of That Dick, Depression.
I appreciate your reference to that sense of relief you feel when you're back to normal. I've felt that, too, and I always wondered if it's my imagination. I've never been medicated and so I sometimes start to think that my depression isn't real, but that moment of relief is what really validates what came before it. When I'm depressed, I have a vague feeling that "this isn't normal, right?" but I don't know for sure until I get to the day where I start thinking, "oh, I remember, *this* is what normal feels like!"
Anyway, enough incoherent rambling. Just wanted to let you know that sharing your experiences helps the rest of us (as I'm sure you know), and that you'll get to that 'shockingly normal' day sooner than you think.