(graphics via the inimitable Doug Savage)
I’ve written on many occasions about my occasional struggles with depression and my ongoing issues with ADD. It’s not that I’m into oversharing, but I figure that there might just be a chance, however small, that sharing my story might make a difference for someone else. Really, if someone can recognize something of themselves in my day-to-day struggle, and if that can help, then I’ve made a difference. Really, what else can a person hope for? I share my own story in the hope that it can help someone else, even if only in the smallest of ways. Writing about it helps me to put things into perspective and to realize that I’m not alone…and that things could always be much worse.
Those who know me know that I’ve dealt with depression off and on during the course of my entire adult life, and perhaps even earlier. I’ve been on more medications than I can remember, and I’ve seen several therapists over the years, all of which have helped immensely. I can remember at least three occasions when I’ve made plans- serious plans- to kill myself, the last episode being two years ago. The details aren’t important; what’s important is the reality that I’m here to tell the story. I recognize now that there are other answers available to me. Life, if nothing else, sure as Hell beats the alternative. It took me awhile to recognize this, but I really do have a lot to live for, especially now. There are many, many people who deal with issues far worse and more challenging than anything I ever have-or will- face. Having that perspective helps keep me grounded. Having people in my life whom I know love and care about me is the piece de resistance…because I haven’t always been able to recognize that. Such is the nature of depression. One’s world tends to collapse inward until one feels completely and totally isolated and alone. Thankfully, I know, understand, and appreciate that I’m not alone…not by a long shot.
That being said, I have to own up to the reality that depression is the black cloud that never really goes away. It may depart the scene for a time, but it’s always lurking in the background. When it reappears, it’s often in such a gradual manner that it’s difficult to recognize until someone points it out to me. At that point, it usually takes me a period of time- short or long, depending on circumstances- to break through the denial and admit to the reality of what’s happening. In my case, this is complicated by the ADD. My ADD, thankfully, is relatively mild. I don’t have problems with directions, and I’m not as scatterbrained as what most people associate with the disorder. My downfall is organization. I can’t balance a checkbook to save my life, I can’t carry on an argument for any length of time because I can’t keep my thoughts in order, and it’s difficult for me to formulate any sort of complex plan. It’s not necessarily that I’m incapable of tasks requiring organizational skills, it’s just that it too often requires what feels like a Herculean effort. It can be exhausting feeling like Sisyphus on a regular basis. I’ve been fortunate to have people in my life who have accepted this about me and found ways to relate to me that work.
Recently, I’ve found myself struggling with my moods and my ability to focus. I’m not sure which came first, because after awhile I’ve felt like a dog chasing its tail. Erin, being a nurse practitioner, was pretty quick to pick up on what was happening, and she suggested that it might be good for me to get back on medication. I’ve been seeing a counselor pretty consistently for the past few years, which has definitely helped, but I did finally have to admit that counseling alone isn’t enough. So, after having a complete physical, I got a new prescription for Wellbutrin. I’ve used it before, and I have to admit that it feels good to have taken this step. I don’t know that I would have been able to do it myself, even though I know that it’s for the best. One of the characteristics of my depression is that I often don’t recognize what’s happening, perhaps because it’s such a gradual process. Having someone with some medical training in my life is just one advantage of where I find myself, and I’m a very fortunate person for that.
I’ve long ago accepted that this is the cross I bear, and, as crosses go, it’s not really all that bad. I’m healthy, I’m happy, and I’m in a position where I’m chasing my dream (whether I’ll catch it remains to be seen). The thing is, though, that depression- at least mine- really doesn’t have much to do with happiness. I know that I need to be aware of how I’m feeling, and that’s something I don’t always do well. That awareness to often tends to get lost in the Sturm und Drang of day to day life, but I’m fortunate to have someone in my life who’s pretty good at watching out for me. As much as I try to be emotionally self-sufficient, the reality is that sometimes that just simply isn’t possible. I can either fight that…or I can try to work within my means and lean on someone when I need to…and there will be times when I’ll need to. That’s just the straightforward reality.
I’m fortunate, in that I’m dealing with things that are annoying and inconvenient but also eminently manageable. I understand and am very cognizant of the reality that things could be a whole lot worse for me. I just need a little bit of help occasionally, and that assistance keeps my head above water. I’m proof that the combination of depression and ADD need not be debilitating. It can be managed; the difficult part can be owning up to the reality of what I deal with. No matter how much I can rationalize things and engage in positive self-talk, there are still times when I find myself battling the perception that something’s “wrong” with me and that I’m “different.” When I can get on top of things, I can manage to convince myself that things are what they are and things work pretty well. I can beat myself up, or I can just get on with it and do what I need to do. Right now, I’m trying to get on with it, and I’m confident that it will work and thankful for the support I have.
Of course, there’s nothing new, different, or even particularly unique about what I grapple with. Millions have struggled with depression, ADD, or combinations of both. Most have it far worse than I do, and I know that if I do what I know I can (and must) do, then life is at best only marginally more challenging for me than for most “normal” people. If this is the worst thing I have to deal with…well, then I really have little to complain about, do I? Ultimately, things really could be so much worse, and I’m grateful to be able to be in a position where I can manage what I need to.
Tune in tomorrow when I’ll discuss my unfortunate predilection for Peanut M&Ms….
