In the Ash Pile

Once more I have let my blog go without updates. Lots have happened during my absence, including 4 weeks if Iron infusions. But that’s not what I want to write about today. It’s occurred to me I’ve never talked about my mental health on this blog or the original blog. So in the hopes of helping others, I’m going to launch this three-part series talking about my mental health. Today’s topic is depression.

My lack of talking about depression has a lot to do with experiences twenty years ago when I first got sick. When I was upfront about my depression, the doctors who I saw for treatment of my physical illness would right off my symptoms due to being depressed. It delayed getting care until after I had my first series of strokes. It took suffering a preventable problem for doctors to step beyond depression as a causative factor. It made me very self-protective about talking about my depression but it’s time to do so.

My depression is serious and I take medication for it, which has made the difference between suffering from constant suicidal ideations to having clear head. When I am depressed, I start to shower maybe once a week. More than that feels like enormous effort. I stay in bed for days on end because I start to think what’s the point of getting up the day will be gray-filled. There are times when I go to sleep at night that I wish I could sleep for eternity, to be oblivious to all things and demands around me. In short, my depression leads me down a path that is full of thorny thoughts and rocky uphill terrain. Hopelessness and a sense of apathy fill me up and I wonder if I will ever get out of it. It’s the apathy that really brings me down further as it comes with feelings of shame—thoughts that I am not living up to my potential or doing enough good in the world.

My illness is a big trigger for my depression these days. I get discouraged by my mobility issues, the weight gain from my medications, the chronic pain and stiffness. And the thought that there will never be a cure but only treatments that hope to slow the progression of the diseases. When I get depressed, I have to work extra hard to challenge my cognitive distortions because the triggers of my depression can’t be changed. As such, I have to focus on small successes; small moments of success when I have hours of pain-free movement. I have to focus on gratitude for all the help I get from friends and family. I also focus on my spirituality, which allows me to feel that I am not alone as I go through my dark times.

Because I sought help for my depression for both counseling and medication (the most successful combination per research), I’ve enjoyed a much more even mood. And I’ve also learned how much of my depression is caused not just the psychosocial factors of my illness, but my illness itself. So right now at this point in my life, I can say my depression is under control. But I’m not doing it alone and I can’t emphasize the importance of seeking help if you are feeling depressed. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.