My Thoughts
What is depression?
So many people use this term, but it seems so few understand what it really is. It's become a trendy term to explain being emo, or being upset. It diminishes what people living with depression actually deal with.
Part of my disorder is recurrant depression. That means I have bouts of depression that come out of nowhere, last an indefinite amount of time and gets up and leave when it's damn good and ready to.
It doesn't mean I'm sad. I'm often not. Generally, I'm neutral bordering on happy. When I'm with my grandkids, I'm almost always overjoyed. But I can still be depressed.
It means that it takes all my energy to open my eyes and get out of bed. It means something that was enjoyable yesterday seems absolutely lackluster and boring today. It means that my appetite went the way of Jimmy Hoffa and I have to be reminded to eat, or pass out from malnutrition. It means that I can sit, in silence, staring at a wall, for hours, dwelling on every misdeed and every regret. It means things that other people take for granted as easy are just too difficult for me to even think about, let alone do.
And I can live like that for weeks. And then suddenly, it will just be gone, and I'll be back to normal. But in the meantime, it's my job to smile and pretend everything is fine, because that's what people want to hear. When they ask "how are you", they don't really want to know. They want you to say you're fine, and move on to the next interesting subject. So I'll be fine ... until I'm not.
| April 26th, 2024 |
So, mental health awareness is a very big issue in my family. I have severe ADHD, CPTSD and recurrant depression. All of my children are diagnosed ADHD, some severe, most mild. My daughter was recently diagnosed with borderline personality disorder. 3 of my grandsons are ADHD, one of them severely so, and one of my grandsons is autistic. I live with a handful of medication for breakfast, just so I can get out of bed and function as a normal human being.
I know most of these disorders are genetic. I got some from my parents, and I passed them down. But it does make me wonder where it started. I knew my grandparents ... most of them anyway. They didn't seem to suffer the same issues, even if there was no such thing as diagnoses back then.
Then again, maybe they were just masters of masking, like I was for many years. It's only in the last handful of years I've learned to be honest about how I'm feeling and to do something about it. So, maybe they did the same. I wish I could go back in time and ask them.
The 'what' is always easy to deal with. The 'why' is harder.
| March 15th, 2024 |