The truth about my depression

June 12, 2015

Everyone has an idea of what “depression” is. Some think it means the person is suicidal. Others think it means the person is having a lousy day. Some think you can just snap out of it by wanting to snap out of it. Others think it doesn’t really exist.

The truth is, like just about every other health condition, depression is different for different people. That’s why I’m not writing about depression in general; I’m writing about mine. And more specifically than that, I’m writing about the depression I’ve experienced over the last few weeks.

I’ve spent many years keeping an eye on my mental health, making sure that when I feel depressed, I’m aware of whether or not I need help. When I was younger I spent a short time on anti-depressants that gave me all sorts of side effects but didn’t seem to help much. In hindsight, I wonder if that depression was really a symptom of my undiagnosed autoimmune conditions. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t. Since then, I haven’t been on medication for depression, but I’ve definitely had periods of depression. Sometimes it lasts hours, sometimes days. If it lasts longer than that, I know I’ll need help, but usually the worst of it is shorter.

This last time around has been different. I wasn’t depressed over a short-term flare, but over a very real, very large setback. Like that setback, it’s lasting longer than an acute flare typically lasts. I’ll write about the setback another time, but suffice it to say, it was, and still is, pretty bad. I lost 3 years of progress in 1 week. It’s been horrible. So it’s no surprise my emotional health would suffer. On top of that, I could feel my emotions swinging around. It’s hard to explain, but I just knew I was having emotional symptoms from the setback in addition to the physical symptoms from this particular setback. I could feel it in the same way I can feel if my knee pain is from too much walking or from an oncoming thunderstorm (even when one isn’t in the forecast, my knee knows it’s coming.) But try explaining that to a doctor!

Sometimes I want to cry for no particular reason. Sometimes I want to cry specifically because I’m angry or scared or sad. Sometimes I just feel sad. Sometimes I think death might be better than living like this. But I’m not suicidal. Those last two sentences seem contradictory to some people, but read them again. I didn’t say I wanted to kill myself. I thought death might be better. I’ve had that thought many times over the years, but in that same abstract way; never in a way that involved me taking action to make it happen. I’ve had it more in the last few weeks than usual, though.

Still, I’m not too worried about this bout of depression. Yes, it’s unpleasant and unfortunate, but so is my fatigue and pain and all of my other symptoms. And like with all of those other symptoms, I’m doing my best to feel better and I’m doing my best to not make things worse. Can I really do more?

I keep this quote over my desk. (If you know whose it is, please let me know so I can credit them.) It’s always apt, but I think it’s especially important right now to reread it constantly.

“I am doing the best I can with what I have in this moment. And that is all I can expect of anyone, including me!”

Do you get depression in relation to your physical conditions? How does it feel to you? Please share your experiences in the comments. And remember, you’re not alone!

3 Comments | Educating, Expectations, Fatigue, Frustration, Healthcare, Limitations, Pain, Symptoms, Unpredictable | Tagged: , , , , | Permalink
Posted by chronicrants

No! I’m not using my health as an excuse!

June 8, 2015

Somehow I had a strange insight when I was a kid. Well, the insight wasn’t strange, but having it at such a young age is probably unusual. I realized that if I ever used my pain as an excuse to get out of doing something when it really wasn’t a problem, no one would ever trust me again.

Maybe that’s why I felt so defensive today when someone accused me of that.

Ok, I’ll be fair. She thought I was doing it in an honest way. We were talking about her upcoming move out of state, and I said that I’d love to try moving someplace for just 6 months. I’d store my things in my parents’ basement and rent a furnished apartment near the ocean in Maine for 6 months, just to see how I liked it. She loved the idea, and pushed me to consider it. I pointed out that I couldn’t even think about it until my health was better. She asked if I was using my health as an excuse because I was really just scared to try it.

So I went on the defensive. I don’t talk bluntly about my health problems, but I’d had a recent setback that she hadn’t known anything about, and I was in no mood to have anyone suggest that being away from my doctors for 6 months was a problem only in my own mind. I told her something that she probably hadn’t realized: that while none of my health problems are fatal, that’s because they’re not fatal with proper treatment. But without proper treatment, yes, they could kill me. Ok, I didn’t happen to mention that death would take years, maybe decades, but that’s beside the point, right? And in the meantime, things could get awfully bad.

I’ll admit, I’m more fearful than I used to be. I used to jump at chances. Now, I’m weary. But who can blame me? So yes, I don’t take as many chances as maybe I could, or should. But then again, I take a lot of small risks on a regular basis, so who’s to say what’s right?

As for moving away for 6 months, I know that’s a risk I shouldn’t take. I don’t have a single doubt in my mind. What if I’d been away a few weeks ago when things went bad? I wouldn’t have gotten my blood work done, which means I wouldn’t have known to adjust my thyroid meds. I was having horrible symptoms of adrenal insufficiency, but I didn’t realize it until my naturopath pointed it out. My pulse was low, but I hadn’t checked it. My blood pressure was so low that she couldn’t even hear it. She tried three times. A machine wouldn’t have been able to read it either, so I wouldn’t have known about that. And if I was in Maine, I wouldn’t have visited my naturopath and started on folate (which I should have done a while ago, to be honest.) I would have gotten worse and worse until I couldn’t properly care for myself. Eventually, my parents would have had to come get me and take me to their house. I would have been bedridden. Now, I’m already seeing a bit of recovery. If I hadn’t caught it early, recovery could have taken months or years. So I have no doubt.

Even so, it sucks to have my judgment questioned. I know it’s hard for health people to understand this. As I pointed out to my friend, we’re taught that when you get sick, you take medicine and then you’re better. But for some of us it doesn’t work that way. We take the medicine and we stay sick. Sometimes we get even sicker. If we’re lucky, we stabilize. That’s what happened to me, I stabilized. Then that went to hell. I’ll probably never be stable. I may never be able to move away from my doctors for 6 months. I’m ok with that. I just need my support network to be ok with it, too.

2 Comments | Decisions, Educating, Fatigue, Frustration, Insensitive, Limitations, Medication, Pain, Rants, Support, Symptoms | Tagged: , | Permalink
Posted by chronicrants

I understand your recovery restrictions better than you think

June 3, 2015

My neighbor down the hall had unexpected surgery last week. I told him that I’m glad to help with small things, but that of course, I’m disabled myself. He knows that. He has shoveled out my car for me and helped me lift heavy things a couple of times. But that’s all he’s seen of my limitations. So it’s not a big surprise that he doesn’t get it.

The other day he asked if I could walk down the street to the farmer’s market to get him some things. I had to explain that while I can walk down there most days, I wouldn’t be able to carry much back. That gave him pause. He had been focusing on his own lifting restrictions. He hadn’t realize that I had some of my own.

And it’s been like that as he’s explained each of his restrictions. He said he couldn’t walk down the street for several days. Well, often I can’t leave my apartment for days at a time. He said he can’t lift anything heavy for a while. I can’t lift anything heavy for the rest of my life. He can’t ride a bike for a while. I can’t ride a bike for the rest of my life. I didn’t give him my own comparable limitations because I don’t want him to feel that I’m belittling what he’s going through.

Still, it’s interesting that after being neighbors for almost 10 years, he has no idea what I live with. And how would he? We rarely say more than a few sentences to each other at a time. We’re friendly, but not friends. And to the outside world, I seem ok. Because on the days I’m not, no one sees me.

At this point, I’m trying to be clear: I can do X to help him but not Y. I don’t go into details and he hasn’t asked. But the next time he tries to explain how difficult a particular limitation is, I might just need to explain that I’ve had that particular limitation for many years, even decades. Then at least he won’t feel the need to explain.

Leave a Comment » | Educating, Expectations, Fatigue, Frustration, Isolation, Limitations, Pain, Support, Symptoms, Unpredictable | Tagged: | Permalink
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I’m allowed to wallow in self-pity

May 28, 2015

I resent the idea that I should never spend a few days feeling sorry for myself. I see no reason why I shouldn’t be able to do that without judgement.

First, I’ll say that this is how I feel about my own self-pity. It’s different for everyone. I make no judgement on you just like I want no one else to make a judgement on me.

I set a few rules for myself. If I ever seriously consider suicide, I need to seek help. If it lasts more than 3 days, I need to pull my way out of it. If it leads to me not taking proper care of my health in a way that will have effects that last beyond those few days, I need to stop. I need to not feel bad or guilty about it. I need to let myself have my feelings.

That’s it. Those are my only rules.

Yesterday was one of those days. I was having pain in a new joint. Every 3-5 years this happens, and the pain is permanent. A long time ago I stopped hoping it wouldn’t be. So when I felt that all-new-yet-totally-familiar pain, I knew exactly what it was. And I was devastated. On top of that, it’s been humid lately, which means I just feel shitty in general. My pain is worse, my fatigue is worse, it’s all terrible.

Just 2 hours after the pain started I was sitting in my naturopath’s office describing it. The timing of that appointment was a tough coincidence. I started crying. One thing led to another, and she started offering me a homeopathic remedy to calm me down. She was careful with her words. She never mentioned “anxiety” or “depression” or anything similar, but obviously that’s what we were talking about.

Now, I understand why she wanted to calm me down. My adrenals are struggling. My pulse was low. My blood pressure, which is normally low, was so low that she couldn’t even get a reading after three tries. It wasn’t good. Crying like that would only make my adrenals worse. I get that.

But I also felt judged. Maybe it was all in my head. Maybe not. But that’s how I felt. The way she talked about my need to calm down and not lose hope didn’t sit right with me. And I resented it. Because I had every reason to feel bad.

Most days, I’m pretty happy and cheerful. On the bad days I’m less so. Occasionally I’m in a bitchy mood, but not too often. But every now and then, I just need a day or two of wallowing in self-pity. I’m dealing with life-long pain, fatigue, and disability. I spend hours every day dealing with my health in one way or another. My social life is planned around medical appointments, timing of medication, and how I think the weather will make me feel on any given day, among a dozen other things. Dates are too difficult to be fun. Making new friends feels like climbing a mountain, because they just don’t understand my limitations. I will be dealing with for this the rest of my life. It will most likely get worse over time, not better. I can’t work, and I can’t afford to live without a job. I don’t have the money to move to a nicer apartment, to get a dog, or to go to the theater. Technically I don’t have the money to pay my electric bill right now, either. I can no longer travel. I miss my friends who live farther away. My memory sucks. I have trouble remembering big events in my life, what I did last week, and the plot of the book I’ve been reading. I spend hours dealing with doctors, insurance companies, and pharmacies. I sit around the house wanting to be productive and get things done, and I just can’t do it.

Oh, and by the way, I also happen to feel like absolute shit.

So I give myself a few days to feel crappy. I feel sorry for myself. I feel like none of the treatments that I work so hard on will ever help me improve. I cry if I want to, I don’t cry if I don’t want to. I avoid going out. I avoid talking on the phone. I feel pissed off at the doctors, at my body, at the world. My anger and bitterness are so strong, you can practically see them vibrating off of me.

And that’s ok. I see absolutely nothing wrong with it. I know it won’t last. I just need to get it out of my system. I need to have a few cumulative weeks every year where I feel this way so that the rest of the time I don’t. That’s what works for me. And if it bothers others, well, then they need to deal with that themselves. They can’t put it on me. Because that’s not my problem. I have enough problems of my own to deal with, as it turns out.

4 Comments | Decisions, Expectations, Fatigue, Frustration, Healthcare, Insensitive, Isolation, Limitations, Pain, Rants, Support, Symptoms, Unpredictable | Tagged: , | Permalink
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