A couple of nights ago I posted a journal entry of how I was coming down from a manic high and could feel the onset of a depressive episode. Most of that evening I felt just sad. When I felt depression creeping up on me I journaled like I said I would, I set some small goals for the next day, wrote down and thought about a couple of things that I should feel good about, and I made myself get some sleep. When I woke up I stayed focused on making it through the day without depression so I put on a little bit of makeup and even wore heels to work. I was committed to not getting depressed.
Let me tell you something, I actually enjoy my manic episodes, I can’t lie I do. I am EVERYTHING when I am manic and it feels so freaking good to me. But that damn depression, I hate with a passion. I’m almost in tears thinking about it. It’s the one thing that has this dominance over me that I can’t fight alone. It brings with it all of the pain and hurt that I’ve felt throughout my life. The years of physical, sexual, verbal, mental, and emotional abuse all manifest at the same time. The thoughts, the fear, the tears… I need a moment.
I’ve been hospitalized twice because of depression. I’m a vulnerable defenseless little girl when I’m going through it. It’s like depression itself gets fulfillment and enjoyment out of torturing me. I have seen it laughing at me because of how weak I am against it. I’ve heard it tell me of the only option I have to never feel that way again.
Depression isn’t just mental, a feeling, but it’s also physical distress. I hate looking in the mirror when I am going through depression because it only depresses me more. When the sadness comes upon me you can literally see it on my face and body. My eyes get low and puffy due to the onset of tears constantly forming. My shoulders get heavy and I have a lot of anxiety during this time. I honestly feel like some sort of spirit has latched itself to me. Some other symptoms I go through while entering into and in a depressive state are:
- Finding comfort in food. Which is what I am going through now.
- Not eating at all. I wasn’t eating at all for months prior to the first time I was hospitalized.
- Not able to fall asleep, restless. I was experiencing this a about a week ago. I refuse to take the sleeping medications they prescribed me so I started going for a walk or to gym before bed a few nights out the week.
- Sleeping too much, and I mean like for days. There have been times where I just couldn’t get out of bed and alI my body wanted to do was sleep. This scares the hell out of my family.
- Fatigued. I’m experiencing this now too. No matter how much rest I get, my energy level is low and I just want to lay down.
- Crying for no particular reason. I just feel sad and I can’t shake it. This was me the night I posted the journal entry. It get’s real when it gets to this point which is why I had to do something.
- Feeling of worthlessness and hopeless. This one is hard one to deal with.
- Just don’t want to do anything
- Don’t want to be around or have people around at all.
- Racing thoughts. This is typically when I want to sleep more so I don’t have to deal with the thoughts.
- Suicidal thoughts… yeah. I want to die to stop the pain but I don’t want to leave my kids and I’m afraid of what’s on the other side. All of which makes me feel worst.
I actually wanted to write about depression because of something I saw on social media yesterday. Michelle Williams from Destiny’s Child shared in an interview how she battles with depression and was even suicidal when she was at the top of her career. When I say people were so ill informed about depression with their perspectives and opinions. I had to stop reading the comments I was getting so annoyed. And then to top it all off, most of these people were black people which supports my cause for doing this blog. As a culture we treat mental illness like it doesn’t exist. Some stupid person said and I quote,” We don’t get depressed, we lean on God”. B!t@# what??? This is freaking scary because people are in pain and they feel as though they have no one and no place to turn. This dismissiveness only adds to the already intense feeling of hopelessness which brings about the latter symptom I discussed. I want to live, I honestly don’t want to die. I WANT TO LIVE. If nothing else I hope this blog and my life encourages someone to not give up and live too. I’m going to address the Michelle Williams issue in another post probably over the weekend. I’m going to need some time to gather my thoughts from those comments. Until then, #LiveLoveLaugh