Anyone who has read TPRS for any length of time is likely familiar with my continuing struggle with depression. It’s not something I advertise, but neither is it anything I shy away from discussing. I have inhabited my own personal black hole for most all of my adult life, with varying degrees of success. Lately, it has become apparent that the time has long since come and gone for me to take some positive steps.
After giving it some thought, I finally went to see my doctor, described how I’ve been feeling, and asked for some help. I’ve been taking Celexa for about three weeks now, and it’s been an interesting process. For the first time in, well, I don’t know how long, I feel as if I’m experiencing honest-to-God emotions. It’s been interesting reacquainting myself with emotions other than anger and frustration.
I can honestly say that I feel good. That in and of itself could be considered a victory, but I feel as if I’m enjoying things again- people, activities, life in general. I feel excited about life, and I’m beginning to realize the possibilities that are out there for me and the blessings I already have.
My struggles have been particularly hard on Susan, and I’m afraid I haven’t always been the husband I could (and should) have been for her. It’s true; you really do always hurt the ones you love. It hasn’t been intentional, and I’ve never set out to cause her pain, but when you’re wallowing in it, it’s hard not to share it with those you love. I hope I can do better from here on.
I’m also beginning to understand just how long I have lived like this. It is truly amazing what one can adapt to over time. Yes, I may have been living in a black hole, but as time goes by, you hang a couple prints on the wall, get a pet or two, perhaps even get some tunes. Before you know it, it’s home. You may not enjoy it, you may not even like it, but it begins to feel comfortable. After enough time passes, you lose sight of the fact that there might be a place out there for you with a better view. Now that I’ve reacquainted myself with the other side, I’m realizing that I’ve needed help for quite some time. It is entirely possible that I may be on some sort of psychotropic medication for the rest of my life. Previously, I might have viewed that reality as a weakness, and perhaps it is in some sense. Still, it is what I have to deal with, and it is a manageable problem. I don’t have an incurable, terminable disease. I am a functional human being who happens to have a mental illness- and I am not alone.
