Wednesday, April 23, 2003
Depression.
Webster's Dictionary defines depression as: A psychiatric disorder characterized by an inability to concentrate, insomnia, loss of appetite, anhedonia, feelings of extreme sadness, guilt, helplessness and hopelessness, and thoughts of death. Also called clinical depression.
I define it as (and I wrote this before looking up the literal definition. Scary right?): Having zero control over personal happiness. Can't fulfill daily responsibilities or personal activities due to the extreme feeling of sadness. There tends to be no specific cause for this type of emotion. See also helplessness and hopelessness.
I have struggled with "depression" since I was a senior in highschool.
I remember going through pathetic bouts of anorexia, bullimia and the lame old "burning myself with cigarettes" before I realized that putting the pain onto my body wasn't in any way taking away the feeling I was struggling with inside. I went to counselors, psychiatrists, through 6 months of St. John's Wart, and through 9 months of Prozac. Then I thought the problem could be my latent homosexuality, so I came out of the closet. But then I thought that being an "Education Major" in college was it, so I changed my major to "Theater".
After switching my major, I took myself off the medicine cuz I found that it was only making me crazier on the inside. Rather than try a new form of anti-depressant, I chose to control my own life free of psychiatric drugs. For two years it worked beautifully. I remember being on the phone with my mom during one weekday afternoon and she asked "How do you feel today?". I responded "Better than I have ever felt in my life. Finding my passion in theater has changed my world for the positive." I was legitimately happy.
Once out of college, I moved to Boston in order to work on my first "true love" relationship with Paul. Over that year I had ups and downs, but was for the most part, still happy. As time went on, as I moved to NYC in search of my dream, I lost every bit of confidence and control that I worked so hard to build. I used to look in the mirror and love what I saw. I used to go through my day awake and alert having slept only 5 hours the night before. I was busy and I was happy. NYC presented challenges to me that I was not ready to face.
I was the big fish in a little pond at college. I owned the theater department. In the matter of a year and a half I got the grades, the roles, the responsibility, and the respect that I have always wanted. Everyone wanted to be my friend and everyone looked up to me in a way that now seems impossible. Every professor at school told me "Enjoy this now because NYC will be a much bigger pond". I would laugh it off and say "Yeah I know".
But only now do I really know.
I went from a place where I was the king to a place where I have 5 friends. Literally 5(!) friends. I have spent two years in this gigantic city and have nothing social to show for it. I don't go to great parties. I don't have celebrity encounters. I don't EVER get to wear a tie. My life is filled with random nights of drinking, movie watching, staring at the wall. I am afraid to step out of my house. Because my financial situation is so tight, I haven't had a new piece of clothing since Christmas. I used to have great clothes. I use to feel wonderful and powerful. And now I have been reduced to this paranoid, insecure, child that can't seem to get dressed in the morning and do something as simple as go to work.
I am sad. So sad.
I have tried over and over throughout the last couple of years to blame my sadness on other things. Most recent being my brother's upcoming depolyment to Iraq. But in the past it was the long distance with my boyfriend. It was the apartment in Queens. It was anything I could put blame on so that my sadness was justified. It is impossible for me to look at myself and be proud of where I am. As has been told to me over and over, I have a "great apartment, financial stability, a successful relationship, wonderful friends, a family that adores and loves me". But I look at all of this and think so what? It seems so easy. Like something anybody could do. I haven't WORKED to have all of this. It's just what happened while I was sitting around feeling sorry for myself.
Most people don't truly understand what depression is like.
From what I can tell, the general public falls into these categories:
1) Everyone gets depressed
This is the most common of responses. These people truly believe that people with depression are lazy and in need of attention. In their minds, depression happens to everyone and you just gotta dust yourself off and move on. When I discuss depression with these type of people, I am mostly left with a feeling of confusion. These people tend to be closed minded and also believe that homosexuality, as with depression, is a state of mind. Case in point. Their team slogan would be: "STOP MAKING EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU!"
2) I get depressed too
I feel bad for these people. They don't mean it. They just need someone to talk to. And as someone who struggles with a deep form of depression, I have a hard time being the support system for these type of people. Of course I'll do it as I have a soft spot for anyone in emotional trouble. But I can't be THE support system. The one that makes it all better. I hide from that. I am scared by that need in other people. In my opinion, these people go through depression for a specific reason. IE: miscarriage, death in the family, losing an eye in an accident involving jism. (i had to throw a joke in this entry somewhere!) These people get a taste of what depression is, but usually end up okay. They are lucky enough to see the horrors of it, but strong enough to break free of it. They will never return to this state of mind, because it scares them too deeply.
3) I am bi-polar, manic, suicidal, crazy depressed
These people make me look the other way the minute I cross their paths. Truth be told, these are the most interesting and wonderful people on the planet. Experiencing their highs with them is like being on planet fun. They are constantly making jokes, ready to do wild and spontaneious things, and more than ready to make you have a good time. But as with the law of gravity, what goes up, must come down. Their lows are terrifying. These are the people that really do burn and cut themselves. A person with these type of disorders will call you to tell you that they are taking a bottle of pills to end their life and by the time you get to them, they have actually done it. They want to be helped, but they can't figure out how to ask. How to make anyone truly understand. I used to be incredibly good friends with someone who was manic. For a long time, she was the only support to my depression that I could accept. She understood me. She knew what to do to make us feel better. She was my mentor. But when I got better and she didn't, she grasped on to me with desperation. I realized that to be better I needed to be away from her and she realized that she needed me to feel the same way that she did. I turned my back and left her. And I will never forgive myself for that. But like I said, these people are intense and if you aren't completely balanced, it's almost impossible to have a successful relationship with them.
4) I love you so much and would do anything to make this better for you
These people tend to be best friends, family, boyfriend-girlfriends. The amount of love and frustration that comes out of these people is mindblowing. My parents want nothing more than for me to be happy. When I had my first depression crash in college, they drove up to get me and brought me home to make me better. They paid for doctor's, counselors, medicines, you name it. They follow my rules and do whatever they can to not shake me up, but still find a way to let me know that they are always there. My friends are this way with me too. Always available and always willing to extend a hand of support. The only problem with these type of people is that they are the last people you want to go to in the midst of a depression crisis. They know you and will make you tell them exactly how you feel. When I am having a day where I am teetering on the edge of sanity or madness, I hide from these people cuz they will push me into the madness unknowingly. "How are you feeling today?" "You don't seem like youself." "Do you want to talk about anything?" While I am so grateful to have them actually asking, I rarely take them up on the offer. I feel guilty telling these people that I am "just going to bed". I feel terrible saying "Sorry I didn't call, I was having a 'down day'". These people love me so much that I feel hurt by not allowing them to make this all better. I don't know how to let them in.
5) I love you, but can't accept the fact that you are depressed
For me, this person is Paul. Paul has such influence on me that he believes that he can single handedly put me back together. He has expectations of me that I must fulfill and if I don't he is unaccepting of the depression excuse. He is a combination of numbers 2 and 4. He gets sad too and will force himself to get out of it. If I am sad, he assumes that I will just do the same thing. For me, he is the one person I want to be around when I am depressed. I can scream at him, cry in front of him, and be silent in front of him. He doesn't cut me any slack and for right now, I like that. He gets me out of the house and he puts my mind on other things. When people are in AA, they need a partner to help them get through it. I feel that it's the same method that people with depression should use. My partner is Paul. Most times he doesn't truly understand how I feel, but regardless, he will get me through my day. Unfortunately, when things go wrong, I blame Paul. I trust in him and I rely on him, so when things crash down in my life, I expect Paul to make it better. He is the one forcing me to live my life afterall. Paul needs to become a little more of number 4 and I think that I could begin taking some major steps. These type of people are the ones that people with depression need around. They are the ones to get you back into your routine.
This is the world around me.
Over the last couple of days, I have dissected what I really need to do to become better.
A) (we use letters now) I need to start acting. An audition here or there. It will help me to feel like I have a purpose. I can't put all of my hopes on acting, but I have to at least begin to do what I came to this city to do. My mom said today that if I don't go to this pending audition that I have on Saturday, she will ground me. "Joe, if anything else, do this for your mother". And she's right. I will do it for her. Cuz I can't seem to do it for myself.
B) I need a counselor. Since leaving college I have had two sessions with a psychiatrist. I am the first person to tell you that you need one, but am the last person to take the advice myself. I can't afford the counselor that I want and haven't had the drive to find someone for cheap. It's as though I need someone to do it for me. I will go...I just don't want to find the person myself. Talking to someone, whether it be once a week, or once a month, will give me hope that I am getting better. That I am doing what I need to be doing for the disease that I have. It will be accepting the fact that I am depressed and that I can't do it by myself.
C) I need to go to the doctor's. I need a check up. I need to know that everything is ok with my body and that I don't have lung cancer or something. Everyone has these thoughts, but not everyone stays in bed all day obsessing about each cigarette because they are SURE that they have already crossed the point of getting the cancer. I need to know that I am ok. While there, I need to discuss the option of going back on an anti-depressent. I have been doing my research and I think that "Welbutrin" will be the way to go. It has a supplement in it that aids with quitting smoking. If I go on Welbutrin AND I quit smoking, I am taking steps towards truly healing myself. It seems like an impossibility, but I know that if I make the effort, I can achieve it.
So that's it.
I wrote all of this, cuz I needed to get it all out. I needed to write it and see it and read it as though it were all real and not just something that I am making up in my head. My dad just called to check up on me and it was a really good talk. People do love me and are only frustrated with me because they want to do for me what I can't seem to do for myself. If you are someone that is hurt by me because I haven't "showed up" or I haven't made any effort to see you when I said I would, understand that it's not you. It's me and I haven't figured out how to be myself yet. I always feel like I am letting people down because they just don't understand that I have no control.
Sadness is something that happens to everyone and I don't ever expect not to be sad. But I can't expect other people to make this better for me. I can't expect other people to take my sadness away. The answer doesn't lie anywhere, but in my heart.
I have two choices. I can either let this thing control me or I can make every effort possible to control it. The last thing I want is to let it beat me. I am a strong person. I am a capable person. I want to be someone that everyone else aspires to be. I used to be that be that person. And if I try hard enough, I can make it happen again.
Webster's Dictionary defines depression as: A psychiatric disorder characterized by an inability to concentrate, insomnia, loss of appetite, anhedonia, feelings of extreme sadness, guilt, helplessness and hopelessness, and thoughts of death. Also called clinical depression.
I define it as (and I wrote this before looking up the literal definition. Scary right?): Having zero control over personal happiness. Can't fulfill daily responsibilities or personal activities due to the extreme feeling of sadness. There tends to be no specific cause for this type of emotion. See also helplessness and hopelessness.
I have struggled with "depression" since I was a senior in highschool.
I remember going through pathetic bouts of anorexia, bullimia and the lame old "burning myself with cigarettes" before I realized that putting the pain onto my body wasn't in any way taking away the feeling I was struggling with inside. I went to counselors, psychiatrists, through 6 months of St. John's Wart, and through 9 months of Prozac. Then I thought the problem could be my latent homosexuality, so I came out of the closet. But then I thought that being an "Education Major" in college was it, so I changed my major to "Theater".
After switching my major, I took myself off the medicine cuz I found that it was only making me crazier on the inside. Rather than try a new form of anti-depressant, I chose to control my own life free of psychiatric drugs. For two years it worked beautifully. I remember being on the phone with my mom during one weekday afternoon and she asked "How do you feel today?". I responded "Better than I have ever felt in my life. Finding my passion in theater has changed my world for the positive." I was legitimately happy.
Once out of college, I moved to Boston in order to work on my first "true love" relationship with Paul. Over that year I had ups and downs, but was for the most part, still happy. As time went on, as I moved to NYC in search of my dream, I lost every bit of confidence and control that I worked so hard to build. I used to look in the mirror and love what I saw. I used to go through my day awake and alert having slept only 5 hours the night before. I was busy and I was happy. NYC presented challenges to me that I was not ready to face.
I was the big fish in a little pond at college. I owned the theater department. In the matter of a year and a half I got the grades, the roles, the responsibility, and the respect that I have always wanted. Everyone wanted to be my friend and everyone looked up to me in a way that now seems impossible. Every professor at school told me "Enjoy this now because NYC will be a much bigger pond". I would laugh it off and say "Yeah I know".
But only now do I really know.
I went from a place where I was the king to a place where I have 5 friends. Literally 5(!) friends. I have spent two years in this gigantic city and have nothing social to show for it. I don't go to great parties. I don't have celebrity encounters. I don't EVER get to wear a tie. My life is filled with random nights of drinking, movie watching, staring at the wall. I am afraid to step out of my house. Because my financial situation is so tight, I haven't had a new piece of clothing since Christmas. I used to have great clothes. I use to feel wonderful and powerful. And now I have been reduced to this paranoid, insecure, child that can't seem to get dressed in the morning and do something as simple as go to work.
I am sad. So sad.
I have tried over and over throughout the last couple of years to blame my sadness on other things. Most recent being my brother's upcoming depolyment to Iraq. But in the past it was the long distance with my boyfriend. It was the apartment in Queens. It was anything I could put blame on so that my sadness was justified. It is impossible for me to look at myself and be proud of where I am. As has been told to me over and over, I have a "great apartment, financial stability, a successful relationship, wonderful friends, a family that adores and loves me". But I look at all of this and think so what? It seems so easy. Like something anybody could do. I haven't WORKED to have all of this. It's just what happened while I was sitting around feeling sorry for myself.
Most people don't truly understand what depression is like.
From what I can tell, the general public falls into these categories:
1) Everyone gets depressed
This is the most common of responses. These people truly believe that people with depression are lazy and in need of attention. In their minds, depression happens to everyone and you just gotta dust yourself off and move on. When I discuss depression with these type of people, I am mostly left with a feeling of confusion. These people tend to be closed minded and also believe that homosexuality, as with depression, is a state of mind. Case in point. Their team slogan would be: "STOP MAKING EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU!"
2) I get depressed too
I feel bad for these people. They don't mean it. They just need someone to talk to. And as someone who struggles with a deep form of depression, I have a hard time being the support system for these type of people. Of course I'll do it as I have a soft spot for anyone in emotional trouble. But I can't be THE support system. The one that makes it all better. I hide from that. I am scared by that need in other people. In my opinion, these people go through depression for a specific reason. IE: miscarriage, death in the family, losing an eye in an accident involving jism. (i had to throw a joke in this entry somewhere!) These people get a taste of what depression is, but usually end up okay. They are lucky enough to see the horrors of it, but strong enough to break free of it. They will never return to this state of mind, because it scares them too deeply.
3) I am bi-polar, manic, suicidal, crazy depressed
These people make me look the other way the minute I cross their paths. Truth be told, these are the most interesting and wonderful people on the planet. Experiencing their highs with them is like being on planet fun. They are constantly making jokes, ready to do wild and spontaneious things, and more than ready to make you have a good time. But as with the law of gravity, what goes up, must come down. Their lows are terrifying. These are the people that really do burn and cut themselves. A person with these type of disorders will call you to tell you that they are taking a bottle of pills to end their life and by the time you get to them, they have actually done it. They want to be helped, but they can't figure out how to ask. How to make anyone truly understand. I used to be incredibly good friends with someone who was manic. For a long time, she was the only support to my depression that I could accept. She understood me. She knew what to do to make us feel better. She was my mentor. But when I got better and she didn't, she grasped on to me with desperation. I realized that to be better I needed to be away from her and she realized that she needed me to feel the same way that she did. I turned my back and left her. And I will never forgive myself for that. But like I said, these people are intense and if you aren't completely balanced, it's almost impossible to have a successful relationship with them.
4) I love you so much and would do anything to make this better for you
These people tend to be best friends, family, boyfriend-girlfriends. The amount of love and frustration that comes out of these people is mindblowing. My parents want nothing more than for me to be happy. When I had my first depression crash in college, they drove up to get me and brought me home to make me better. They paid for doctor's, counselors, medicines, you name it. They follow my rules and do whatever they can to not shake me up, but still find a way to let me know that they are always there. My friends are this way with me too. Always available and always willing to extend a hand of support. The only problem with these type of people is that they are the last people you want to go to in the midst of a depression crisis. They know you and will make you tell them exactly how you feel. When I am having a day where I am teetering on the edge of sanity or madness, I hide from these people cuz they will push me into the madness unknowingly. "How are you feeling today?" "You don't seem like youself." "Do you want to talk about anything?" While I am so grateful to have them actually asking, I rarely take them up on the offer. I feel guilty telling these people that I am "just going to bed". I feel terrible saying "Sorry I didn't call, I was having a 'down day'". These people love me so much that I feel hurt by not allowing them to make this all better. I don't know how to let them in.
5) I love you, but can't accept the fact that you are depressed
For me, this person is Paul. Paul has such influence on me that he believes that he can single handedly put me back together. He has expectations of me that I must fulfill and if I don't he is unaccepting of the depression excuse. He is a combination of numbers 2 and 4. He gets sad too and will force himself to get out of it. If I am sad, he assumes that I will just do the same thing. For me, he is the one person I want to be around when I am depressed. I can scream at him, cry in front of him, and be silent in front of him. He doesn't cut me any slack and for right now, I like that. He gets me out of the house and he puts my mind on other things. When people are in AA, they need a partner to help them get through it. I feel that it's the same method that people with depression should use. My partner is Paul. Most times he doesn't truly understand how I feel, but regardless, he will get me through my day. Unfortunately, when things go wrong, I blame Paul. I trust in him and I rely on him, so when things crash down in my life, I expect Paul to make it better. He is the one forcing me to live my life afterall. Paul needs to become a little more of number 4 and I think that I could begin taking some major steps. These type of people are the ones that people with depression need around. They are the ones to get you back into your routine.
This is the world around me.
Over the last couple of days, I have dissected what I really need to do to become better.
A) (we use letters now) I need to start acting. An audition here or there. It will help me to feel like I have a purpose. I can't put all of my hopes on acting, but I have to at least begin to do what I came to this city to do. My mom said today that if I don't go to this pending audition that I have on Saturday, she will ground me. "Joe, if anything else, do this for your mother". And she's right. I will do it for her. Cuz I can't seem to do it for myself.
B) I need a counselor. Since leaving college I have had two sessions with a psychiatrist. I am the first person to tell you that you need one, but am the last person to take the advice myself. I can't afford the counselor that I want and haven't had the drive to find someone for cheap. It's as though I need someone to do it for me. I will go...I just don't want to find the person myself. Talking to someone, whether it be once a week, or once a month, will give me hope that I am getting better. That I am doing what I need to be doing for the disease that I have. It will be accepting the fact that I am depressed and that I can't do it by myself.
C) I need to go to the doctor's. I need a check up. I need to know that everything is ok with my body and that I don't have lung cancer or something. Everyone has these thoughts, but not everyone stays in bed all day obsessing about each cigarette because they are SURE that they have already crossed the point of getting the cancer. I need to know that I am ok. While there, I need to discuss the option of going back on an anti-depressent. I have been doing my research and I think that "Welbutrin" will be the way to go. It has a supplement in it that aids with quitting smoking. If I go on Welbutrin AND I quit smoking, I am taking steps towards truly healing myself. It seems like an impossibility, but I know that if I make the effort, I can achieve it.
So that's it.
I wrote all of this, cuz I needed to get it all out. I needed to write it and see it and read it as though it were all real and not just something that I am making up in my head. My dad just called to check up on me and it was a really good talk. People do love me and are only frustrated with me because they want to do for me what I can't seem to do for myself. If you are someone that is hurt by me because I haven't "showed up" or I haven't made any effort to see you when I said I would, understand that it's not you. It's me and I haven't figured out how to be myself yet. I always feel like I am letting people down because they just don't understand that I have no control.
Sadness is something that happens to everyone and I don't ever expect not to be sad. But I can't expect other people to make this better for me. I can't expect other people to take my sadness away. The answer doesn't lie anywhere, but in my heart.
I have two choices. I can either let this thing control me or I can make every effort possible to control it. The last thing I want is to let it beat me. I am a strong person. I am a capable person. I want to be someone that everyone else aspires to be. I used to be that be that person. And if I try hard enough, I can make it happen again.
