Depression

While COVID-19 has been really rough on me mentally, this last week has really knocked me down.

It does not surprise me at all that people are racist.  It does not surprise me at all that the police are killing black people.  It doesn't surprise me at all that white people are focusing on looting instead of peaceful protests and the blatant disregard of the lives of people of color.

It doesn't surprise me.  It still saddens me, but it doesn't surprise me.

Watching peaceful protesters getting shot at, gassed, and pepper-sprayed, has been more than I can handle this week.  I have always known we are cruel to each other, but the depth of cruelty is playing out on my television, computer, and phone - in real time.  I am sad, angry, frustrated, helpless...and my sense of hopelessness is growing.

I have dealt with depression since I was a teenager. I can go through extended periods of sadness.  Sometime I know what causes it to start, and sometimes it just arrives with no warning.  I will stay in bed and cry.  The humor that I normally see all around me fades away and I am left alone and sad.

On countless occasions I have been told by people to "pull yourself out of it."  I have been told to "man up."  I have been told "it is all in your head."  I have been told to just "smile more."  I have been told to "shake it off."  I have been told "you have no reason to be depressed."

For the record, none of those messages helped in any way.  As a matter of fact, they made it worse.

"Pull yourself out of it" - I am doing good just to breathe and be here...anything else is out of reach when the depression hits.

"Man up" - Really?  

"It is all in your head" - Yes, yes it is.  How does that help exactly?  Oh, that means its "not real?"  Depression is real and you need to get down on your knees and thank whatever entity you believe in that you don't have it.

"Smile more" - Fuck you!

"Shake it off" - Thanks, Ms. Swift.  Now go away.

"You have no reason to be depressed" - And you have no clue, no empathy, and no awareness of others.

When I was a teenager, I thought what I was feeling would be permanent.  I contemplated suicide on many occasions.  In my thirties it got really bad.  With encouragement from a friend who did not offer stupid one-liners, I talked to my doctor.  I started a medication that truly helped.  And I took it for the next 10 years.  I think the meds were the only reason I did not take my exit during that time.

For a multitude of reasons, I stopped taking the medication.  And I found a therapist.  I still battle depression, but I have been dealing with it long enough to know that it is not permanent.  Sometime it goes away as mysteriously as it arrived.  Mostly I have learned that is is temporary and I have found ways to ride it out.

This week is different.  I know what prompted this round of depression.  I can usually focus on the temporary nature of what I am feeling.  I recognize that there are things that will be fun again.  But this week it has been incredibly difficult to hope.  I mean, I hope that systemic racism is finally destroyed.  I hope that our justice system gets back to fairness and equality.  But I don't think either of those things will happen.  Certainly not in a country with a cowardly, racist, evil, lying, ignorant asshole sitting in the White House tweeting to stir up his cowardly, racist, evil, lying, ignorant asshole cult members.

Of course I realize that what I am feeling will transition into something else.  But, if I am being honest, I think the transition could be worse than what we are seeing now.

I recognize that my fear and worry is nothing compared to what my friends of color are feeling.  I recognize that my experience is completely different from theirs.  It is in this recognition that I feel even more helpless, because I don't know how to help.  I have donated money to help protesters get out of jail and cover legal costs.  I have made my position perfectly clear on all of my social media platforms.  But I am largely insignificant in my influence.

I know that I am looking at the world through a pandemic filter.  I know that it has affected my perception of the world.  Now there is an additional filter of anger and fear.  I am fighting to challenge my perception of the world.  I am trying to find something good on which to focus.  

It's not working.

So, that is where I am.  In the throws of a deep depression.  I feel sad, anxious, and hopeless.

I had a good conversation with my Karen this week.  She always listens.  She offers no platitudes.  She listens.  She encourages me to change up my routine.  She listens.  She manages to make me giggle.  She listens.

My sweet friend Andrea has checked in on my every day this week.

My husband holds me.  He let's me cry.  He intentionally creates moments to express his love and support.

I turned 51 this week.  And it was tough.  Not because of the number, but because I am a person who needs physical interaction with other people.  I need socialization.  I need to see my friends.  So without that, it was tough.  And I don't know when we will be together again.  And I am worried about my friends of color.

Authenticity is one of the driving forces of this blog.  So, today I am just trying to be authentic.  I am struggling.

And here is the reason I share this...I know I am not the only person struggling.  I lived the largest part of my life hiding my depression and feeling alone with it.  That did not work.  When I found other people who struggle, I felt a sense of relief.  I may feel alone, but I am not alone.  

I am sharing my struggle to raise awareness of mental illness.

I am sharing my struggle so that someone might recognize they are not alone.

I am sharing my struggle because it is real, not to be dismissed, and valid.

This is me...this week.

Just sayin'