They lay in wait for me, waiting for the opportune time to whisper those noises into my head. Although some times the volume is a scream! It builds to a deafening cresendo that can only be quieted by squeezing my eyes shut, concentrating on blocking it out. It sometimes wakes me at night, not a nightmare so much as a mixed up dream.
I know that I deserve the worst the life can bring because of the poor choices that I have made over the years. The truth of it can be seen in the eyes of people who are tired of hearing about all of the same shit that I complain about, over and over. I do get tired of complaining. I work on keeping my mouth shut but it doesn’t last long. Depression is my agent, I know him intimately. I can count on him to be there when others have left because they have had enough.
I remember the first time that I experienced being smothered by it. I was in 2nd grade I think. It was raining when I got into the school bus and was eating my raincoat. Something happened at school that I don’t remember that made me very sad. I remember getting on the bus after school and that it was humid and I was wearing the coat back onto the bus. The driver always called me “Happy” whenever I got on the bus but I was so sad and must have had such a long face that he called me saddy with a frown on his face… Fortunately, that event didn’t last long.
Intractable depression was one social workers dx. Depression that can’t be broken. Dissociative disorder was another. Some seem to think that I am bi-polar although I don’t have the highs that people who are bi-polar do. I have been on most SSRI antidepressants. Most do nothing, some take away what little libido I have, but one, Cymbalta, has help. I remember talking Prozac. It started to lift me out of my funk but it caused me to be angry a lot and uninhibited. I know first hand about what the prozac defense is about!
My demons come out whenever they want.
Everyone who is affected by depression has a tale to tell. Please write about it.