Sad women/ Living with depression

apsalar

Hi ladies..

I decided to post this here rather than parenting or PI because I wanted to know what other women think/ do/have experienced living with depression and hopefully, how they have coped and manage with it.

Here's my story: I've been living with this condition since I was about 15. At least, that's when I think it really started. I used to think I was just a moody bitch and that PMS set me off but in my mid 20s I crashed 3 very spectacular and horrible times and the last time led me to psychiatrist and diagnosis that I am bi-polar. What I really remember the first time is my mother telling me to snap out of it! and to not speak about it to anyone as it would damage my reputation and it would stay as a black mark over my kids:(.....well, we've moved along since then and now we have a much better relationship and she understands that it is a real condition and not some makey-upy excuse not to work and pay my half of the rent as one scumbag boyfriend so nicely put it in the middle of a suicidal spiral that saw me end up in hospital!:mad:

These days I manage much better than I used to. I take my happy pills (but not currently as am expecting) but more important, I have a regime I follow whenever I feel those bad old feelings come round. I make sure I get out into the light more, make sure I'm around friends and family (that are more sympathetic), read books that cheer me up, get back into my hppy hobbies (love sewing and messing with fabric) and most of all, stay away from triggers.

The one thing that has bothered me most is how to deal with this with my kids. It's real hard explaining that mommy needs a little me time to kids that want attention and I hate it when my eldest asks me if I'm sad. He's waaay too perceptive and can see when I'm off. Bless his little heart I think it's made of gold.

The other thing is that people automatically assume I'm going through "woman troubles" or something when I have off days and it's annoying! I know it's easier for women than men to admit to depression but I still sometimes feel like people at work think I'm just being a silly woman sometimes when I need a day off (thank god HR is more understanding).

How do the rest of you deal with it? would love to have some positive stories...

Novella

The thing that I hate the most about admitting to being depressed, or being mentally ill or even just talking about bad experiences in your past is the fact that it's highly likely someone will turn around and brand you an 'attention seeker'. I know people say attitudes towards problems such as this are getting better, and maybe they are, but not by much imho. Being depressed still seems to mean that you're 'crazy' or that you want everyone to feel sorry for you.

All of my teenage years were blighted with huge battles against a variety of psychiatric conditions. I'm not sure how or why it started for me really. My mum was never very well mentally, so maybe it had something to do with that, and after the death of my grandmother, with whom I was very close, I sort of just got lost.

When you're only a kid - twelve or thirteen or whatever - you don't think, "Oh, hey, maybe I'm depressed". I genuinely figured I was 'insane' and I felt I couldn't say anything to anyone about it, 'cause I was scared. I actually lived in my own world where if anything bad happened, I'd pretend it didn't. I lied to myself so much that I started to believe the things in my head, but it wasn't because I was crazy... I couldn't handle any kind of hurt, or pain. I just didn't know who to turn to, and I was always told, "No no, don't cry" so everything I felt got bottled up.

It went from there to self harm to suicidal ideation to a couple of suicide attempts, over the space of about ten years. I was horrible to myself. I had no self esteem. I ate, I didn't eat. I slept with too many people, I was careless and wreckless. I was waiting for someone to just hold me, and make it go away but if anyone tried, I'd run.

Got pregnant at seventeen, it was bound to happen. Ended up miscarrying, and it both pushed me over the edge and brought me back. I dropped out of college. I felt so guilty... My life was continuing, the way it used to be and I thought that that was unfair. So the next three years were more of the same - punishing myself probably. Drinking too much, taking drugs, anything to help me forget.

It got to the stage where I was drinking everyday, and taking sleeping pills not because I was tired but because I couldn't see the point in being awake. Physically I felt awful. I was such a tremendous strain on everyone, completely wrapped up in myself and in hindsight, a rubbish friend.

When it hit me that my life was nothing other than being drunk, being asleep and having the odd one night stand that maybe made me feel something for ten minutes but then left me emptier than before, I got help. I saw a psychiatrist in the Mater, I started attending Pieta House and I stopped hating myself.

When people say depression is attention seeking, or self harm is etc., it annoys me. I didn't spend half my life feeling like crap on purpose, I didn't fuck up so someone would notice. If I wanted attention, I'd do something normal like wear a low cut top. If I wanted attention, there are a million ways I could get it. The fact that I tried to pretend that none of this was going on for so long was because I didn't want attention.

I'd love to have my teenage years back. I'd love to do it all differently, and actually achieve some of my hopes and dreams as opposed to not being able to. I wasn't able to because I was sick, ill, mentally ill and sometimes I wonder, "Why me?" when I see people I went to school with in places I should be now, doing things I should/could be doing. Yeah, I'm a little bit jealous. I wish it didn't look like I've spent the last four years doing nothing when really, I've been to hell and back.

And you wanted positives? The positives are, for me anyway, I'm not posting this un-regged 'cause I finally accept it. The past is the past, and things can and will get better. I've learned that it's okay to need help, it's okay to ask and for every one person who's gonna think badly of you, there are probably ten who'll only admire you.

liah

I suffer from it as does the rest of the female side of my family. Myself, my mother, aunts and grandmother were all diagnosed at various stages in our lives.

I don't get highs. I don't mean from drugs, I just mean exaggerated positive emotions. I don't get giddy or excited or bubble with happiness; I've only felt those things, in their pure forms, a few times throughout my life.

My depression doesn't seem to be of a mental sort anymore though, if that's even possible-- for most of my youth and teens I was very depressed, to the point that my hygiene suffered, my relationships suffered, I'd attempted suicide a few times and nearly been successful.

Strangely I'm, mentally anyway, "over it." I think that had a lot to do with overcoming personal issues and forcing mind over matter, in a way. I knew I was being illogical and that it's just a matter of chemistry making me feel how I did.
Whenever I was in a solid state of mind I would tackle my issues and overcome them one by one, and now I've dealt with all of them I'm content and happy overall with my life right now. But the physical side of it has never left. While not getting the highs, I very much experience the lows-- overexaggerated anger, sadness, weepiness. They come about rarely (once or twice a year), but when I do experience them, it's tenfold. Just utter despair and self-loathing.

I have never accepted medication and will not do so. I'm numb enough as a rule anyway, it would only make it worse.

So, TL;DR: I suffer(ed) from diagnosed depression, but mentally seem to have overcome any psychological issues and am left with the physical/chemical side effects (low energy, lack of exaggerated positive emotion, higher intensity of negative emotions, etc). Once or twice a year the psychological bit kicks in and I get passing suicidal thoughts, but I curb them quickly and recognize them for what they are.

Besides all that though I'm a happy person :pac:

Konata

Novella, I know I've said this before and I'll say it a million times more, but thank you for posting things like that You're so brave and it's great to see another person who isn't afraid to admit to their mental illnesses. Much

I can relate to a lot of what Novella said - we've been through very similiar journeys in trying to accept our mental illnesses. I'm 20 now and my problems started about 8 or 9 years ago. I felt left out as an early teen, ugly, fat, inferior, uncool, all that sorta stuff. Normal enough for most teenagers but I couldn't deal with it. I entered into a cycle of self hatred and believing that I was nothing. I convinced myself that losing weight would cure all my problems.

At 16 I was diagnosed with anorexia. I narrowly avoided being put into an in-patient programme and was made to go see a psychiatrist and counseller. My parents were aware of the problem so not eating became more difficult - and I was terrified of losing my control. I attended mental health services for nearly a year but tbh, they were a bit crap. I eventually started lying about how I was feeling since they weren't helping me in anyway. I got discharged but the root of my anorexia had never been dealt with.

I continued to restrict what I was eating but it wasn't enough anymore. I needed some kind of punishment for all the "bad" things I was doing in life. I started self harming when I was 17, a problem that has continued on and off ever since. Self harming was my way of punishing myself for not being good enough, and a way of momentarily distracting me from my mental anguish.

To this day, my arms and legs are covered in scars. I don't hide them anymore - I'm not ashamed of what I did. Yes, I regret it, but what's done is done. I get plenty of stares and the odd question (many people genuinely don't realise it's self harm) about my scars and I'm sure many people jump to "attention whore" conclusions but that's their problem, not mine.

I entered college in Sept 08 and in Dec, I had my first binge. I had been getting involved with boys who were no good for me, boys who treated me like shít, because I didn't believe I deserved better. When one of them dumped me - for not sleeping with him - I snapped. My years of control over my eating went out the window. I couldn't stop eating and in Oct 09, I was diagnosed with bulimia, a problem I've learned to control but that I still struggle with. I was also diagnosed with severe depression at the same time.

As I began to gain weight from all the binging, I got progressively more depressed. I started drinking more and more frequently, often alone in my room. I stopped going to college and spent days and nights on drink, food and self harming binges. I suffered panic attacks and gave up caring about life. I was raped in Sept 09 and barely left my room for the 6 months following that.

How am I today? Well, that's where the more positive outlook begins I'm doing okay. I started getting proper counselling last year and it really, really helped. I'm on anti depressants and haven't drank or self harmed in over 2 months (and I've been almost entirely free from both or about 10 months). I started writing a blog in March which has helped me immensely with dealing with my feelings. I've learnt that bottling things up doesn't help - today I'm not afraid to talk about how I feel. I'm not afraid to talk about my mental illnesses either. In fact, I'd like to think that by sharing my problems, I'm helping to break down that wall of stigma that surrounds depression and other mental illnesses.

I don't think that my vulnerabilities will ever just disappear but I do believe that it is possible to live with it. I believe that I am a worthy person, that I deserve to live and I keep toxic people out of my life. Yes, I'm still working towards recovery but I know that it's not impossible anymore - and that it's not impossible for anyone to get better

sipstrassi

Hi apsalar.

You don't say what age your children are but mine are 22 and 11. Both boys.

Thankfully I too am off the medication and know when it's starting to hit bad and have my coping mechanisms in place.
My husband is great (he didn't get the depression thing until my doctor compared the whole seratonin thing to a diabetic needing insulin).

Maybe you could try to have 'me time' regularly so that your children are used to it and don't associate it with feeling sad? Then it would be just another part of your family routine. (By regularly I mean fairly regularly - be great if we could just schedule the bad days.. ).

Btw - there are some positives - older lad went through a bad patch but we were able to recognise the signs and caught him when he fell.

squeakyduck

Good to see a thread like this that isn't hidden in PI.

I've lived with depression since I was a child, not myself mind you, my mother. When I was 7 my parents broke up, my dad was having a relationship behind my mums back with a woman who was supposed to be her friend. When my dad left, my mothers health suffered, during her very low times she is physically and mentally unable to get out of bed, take me to school or even look after me. If she was like this I looked after her as best I could, or was taken to school by my dad. I hate to see her shut up in her house as she hates others seeing her "like this." On her highs she is a fun loving woman that would give up anything for her children and grandchildren.

Around this time of the year she gets very low, it's to be expected dark nights, cold days etc. Unluckily she has not found her coping mechanism with her depression, although my dad, myself and my siblings pitched to buy her a puppy for Christmas, he has helped a little, he is company more than anything.

It's good to see that there are success stories within the battle of depression, I'm hoping one day my mum will find her own niche to help her battle her demons. I hope you get well soon mum, I'll be home soon too x

Xiney

My mum is bipolar. She had a breakdown when I was 14 and went manic. She was emotionally and sometimes physically abusive towards myself and my father.

My dad is a brilliant man but he's not particularly practical. He spent as much time away from home as possible, working or out taking long walks. I didn't really have such luxury so I holed up in my room (I jerry rigged a folding leaf table into a lock because I was often afraid that she might murder me in my sleep). I would sneak food into it so I wouldn't have to leave. I did my "business" into a bucket so I wouldn't have to leave my room. I read a lot of books and learned to live with the smell, it was better than dealing with my mother.

The problem was, she was very good at appearing normal (if a little eccentric) whenever the authorities were around. It took months but I finally got the police to come out while she was fully out of control, and then she was committed.

For YEARS she blamed me for it all. She refused to admit that she had been mentally ill, despite continuing to take her mood stabilizers. She blamed the rough time we had that summer on me having mono, thus I was irritable :rolleyes:

(note: I did have mono, but the year before, so she didn't even get that right)

Anyway all was hunky dory except that she wouldn't admit to being mentally ill and still resented me for having her committed, and I still resented her for all the awful things she said to me when she was ill. I left home for university and was glad to, our relationship was pretty much one sided for a while (her ignoring what had happened and continuing to act like it hadn't and me ignoring her as much as possible - I can honestly say I didn't love my mother for 5 years and wouldn't have cried if she'd died)

It wasn't until her doctor decided she was all better, took her off her meds, she went off the deep end again, and I had to get her committed again, this time remotely over the phone from another province 8 hours away. They weren't impressed when I phoned and said, "Look, my mom's gone crazy again can you go pick her up?" Clearly that's not the terminology they want people to use but I was still pretty bitter about the first time! At least it was easier since she had a history of mental illness this time.

Anyway, she got put back into the hospital, but this time when she got out she started to come around to the idea that maaaybe she was mentally ill. Since then (and since I moved continents) our relationship has continued to improve. I love her again. She still hasn't apologized for being so nasty to me when I was 14 but I doubt she ever will. That might be ok. At least she no longer thinks I'm a stupid bitch for putting her in the hospital, 'cause I think she now realises she needed to be there.



I don't know how helpful all of that is to people who are mentally ill themselves and have kids, since hearing how hard it was for me isn't exactly a happy thought. But just know that even if you go off the deep end and they hate you for a while, you can work on the relationship and they'll come around. I'm the most stubborn, hard headed cnut that ever lived, and when I cut someone out of my life, I'm ruthless, they're dead to me and I will dance. But my mother kept trying and she's back in my life.

apsalar

Thanks for all the replies ladies......

I put this post here because I wanted views from women. What triggered this was a talk I had yesterday in work with a woman I would have thought to be the very last person suffereing from depression. It was very suprising for me. All my counsellors and my psychiatrists to date have been men. I never really thought too much about it before until I spoke to ths colleague and all of a sudden, I was like...hey, this woman actually gets it in ways I've struggled to get across sometimes to men. It was great. I felt so good after our talk I wondered why I never thought to speak to another woman before!

Novella, your story is a harrowing read. You may not think it, but I consider the fact that you can accept who you were at the low points a huge positive. Part of my depression was sheer disgust at the person was becoming. I didn't like me. You have accepted yourself. When I finally looked at myself and said - this is who I am, I cannot change, but only grow in better directions it was like a fog had lifted. Accepting that I actually had a mental illness was a great positive for me. I'm still a bit loopy, but you know what, it's no longer a badge of shame, something I have to hide. I'm me, and I've finally accepted all the bits I don't like.

I can relate to sooo many parts of all your stories. Especially the useless alliances with some men that left me feeling very worthless.I slept with too many men. Not taking care of myself- that was me. Luckily my sisters were very supportive of me. I could easily have been an alcoholic but the thought of my dad on his weekend binges put me off. I think the hardest bit is acceptng that I'm just not like everyone else, and that it doesn't make me any less of a person.

My kids are 7 and 3. Still very young. I'm hoping they never go through what I had to. My teen years were rubbish, and I hope they have a more fun time than I did. I always look at people who say teen years were the best with envy. I had very few friends and hated going to school. But maybe that is true of people who don't suffer depression too??

Dudess

Amazing bravery here - such strength and resilience to come out the other side the way you ladies have done. Be extremely proud.

Apsalar, do you still go for counselling or even just have someone to talk to? Generally speaking here (not to you specifically): anti-depressants are very beneficial, often essential, but they alone are not a panacea, and sometimes they merely act like a "plaster" covering the wound. I'm not on an anti A.D. tirade and I know there is a lot of ignorance and unfounded fear surrounding them, but e.g. my mum who gets the odd bout of depression: she's a nurse and very much a "Medicine is king" person, and whenever it happens (every few years) she just heads over to the doc and gets her prescription. I'm left wondering "Why the hell doesn't she talk to someone about how she's feeling too?" I'm sure the doc will have a chat with her all right but I wish she'd consider a few therapy sessions. Her depression isn't bad, and never lasts long, but still... I would hope there isn't a regular pattern of people being just dispensed anti-depressants and left to it. They greatly help many but they don't teach a person how to be strong, how to develop coping skills, how to change their thinking, how to learn to love themselves.

Ideally, anti-depressants should either be given in conjunction with counselling therapy, or not given/discontinued if counselling therapy is all that is required. But never given on their own - not so much because of "OMG like drugs that do stuff to your head is baaaad!" but because it wouldn't be wise to invest your entire health and emotional well-being in a pill - or to become reliant on it as a crutch. You need to be able to do whatever is within your own power to help yourself too, otherwise there is the risk of your happiness being built on sand (again, I stress I'm not talking about diagnoses like e.g. bipolar disorder which actually requires anti-depressants and other drugs as part of its management)...

I do understand though that some people really and truly need anti-depressants merely to get out of the damn bed, let alone make the trip to the counsellor... but, it's good to talk. It really, really is. CBT is supposed to be superb btw. I know a guy who survived an overdose, spent a long time in St Patrick's Hospital, Dublin, and had to undergo ECT, take large doses of medication, and obviously have lots of counselling. He said CBT was amazing - and he feels it is what helped him the most. Of course it varies from person to person, and he may have not benefitted from CBT half as much if it were not for the medicine, but to go from taking an overdose to doing fantastically... well it's one great example of hope anyway.

LegacyUser

My mother suffered from depression. Think it was since I was little, though there were family troubles there too.
She sheltered me from it as much as she could. The main issues were the bad moods but as above, they weren't solely depression. I knew sometimes she was "sad" but I left her alone. I didn't get any blame or ranting, not really. Maybe some outbursts once or twice that I recall, that she apologised very quickly for and was careful to tell me wasn't about me but was about her issues.

When I was still fairly young I talked her out of suicide. Not something you forget in a hurry. It didn't leave me scarred or traumatised. It was just something I had to do. I know the following paragraph will seem to give the lie to this, but I suspect it runs in the family.
There were even some funny moments when she did mad - but very harmless stuff around the house - stuff when on the meds.

I started suffering from it myself some years later. I didn't know what it was at the time. As someone said above, I didnt know it was "I'm suffering from depression". I just knew I felt crappy all the time, cutting, thinking crazy things etc. Not all that crazy but you don't know that then.
Wasn't formally diagnosed that I remember (a lot of it was a blur) as I kept it all to myself, obsessively. Did end up in counselling. I'm still working on the whole "talk about it thing" as you can tell from me posting this unreg. Never took the meds, I couldn't stand the idea of it. Another relative has been on them forever and is just... no, I couldn't do that.

Overall I think I've had it easy enough, especially compared to some of these stories posted.

I love her to bits and she's great. Really. We get on very well. And she is ok now, I would say. So am I.

So OP, it's ok. and your kids will be ok as you obviously love them and want to protect them.
Have some "me time" regularly when you can so they don't associate it with being sad. Make sure to tell them it's never about them and you love them to bits.

squishykins

Ok, I decided to be brave and stay logged in for this, so here goes *deep breath*

I've never been formally diagnosed, but it's fairly clear that I have depression. I started to think I was crazy when I was 9 or 10, one bitch in the class spread rumours about me in 1st class (yeah, first ****ing class), so I didn't have any friends in primary school and my dad has a very, very short temper and I was a "sensitive soul" as my grandmother put it...
Very long story short, by 5th or 6th class I was already contemplating suicide. It passed for a while when I entered secondary, I deliberately chose one that I knew nobody except my best friend at. In 2nd year I thought I was going mad again, and in third year the feelings were back full whack, partly because of the JC, partly because my dad had grounded me for 6 months for talking to a boy (yes you read that right). I attempted, failed, attempted, failed, etc. Then I did TY. Took all the stress out of my life, boy I was walking on ****ing air, especially cuz at christmas that year I met my boyfriend, who just by being himself relaxed me so much.
So all was well, until I started the pill. Nobody ever told me what it could do to your head...I'm not gonna tell that story, but it's bad. I managed to stabilise once I went to my doctor looking for help, cuz my boyfriend convinced me. She refused to give me pills cuz I'm too young and said I should exhaust all my other options first. She basically ordered me to join the local gym, which helped immensely. I also started to tell the bf absolutely everything. Even tiny things like there's no toilet roll in the cubicle! Little things like that set me off sometimes.
Then the leaving cert. Woah boy. Never again. Pretty obvious to me now that stress triggers unreasonable reactions in me. I didn't really cop it then, all I knew was I wanted it to end. But once again, it was the bf who came to the rescue :P He kept convincing me to think of all the great things that would happen that summer, and promised me he'd make them all happen What a summer....
Anyways, I'm in college now and the stress still comes back, but on a smaller scale obviously as the weighting of the assignments and exams are spread out. I have to go back to the doctor every 6 months at least, you know to get bp tested and all that, and she always checks to see how I'm doing, it's really good I think I'm just gonna take it day by day and if I need more help, I'll take it, because I see it for what it is now. I haven't self-harmed or attempted in a very long time though, and once the winter's over I'll be at the gym again like it's nobody's business! I don't know if I've really answered any questions here or anything, but it felt good to put all of that down like that

Ectoplasm

It really is great to see an issue like this not in PI. I was diagnosed with severe depression when I was around 22. Nearly ten years later I can honestly say that getting that diagnosis was the best thing to ever happen to me.

I was 12 when my mam died, leaving me with my brothers and my Dad, who was pretty emotionally distant. I never dealt with her death at all and in my attempt to 'be strong' I spent the ten years following it by surpressing every negative thing and emotion. Things were not 'bad' but neither were they in any way good. I wasn't miserable but I wasn't ever happy, even when good things happened.

I acted out during school and was lucky never to get into any serious situations. I held it together through college but when I graduated, everything came to a head. I'd no idea what I was supposed to 'do' next. One day I started crying and pretty much couldn't stop. I had suicidal thoughts. I started a cycle of sleeping constantly or staying awake for days. I was lucky because when I went to my gp and he started me on anti-depressants straight away on the condition that I attended therapy too. This was my lifeline.

Within a few weeks I was actually astonished at the difference. Over the next six months I learned how to deal with emotions properly and eventually came off the tablets. It was a new lease of life for me.

I've always stayed very aware of my mood, but I now know how to cope with negatives. I managed to deal with my Dad's diagnosis and subsequent terminal illness without going back to the dark hole I'd been in before. I've also continued on and off to speak to a counsellor when I am finding things tough. I really want to reiterated what Dudess said regarding therapy - I credit this with my recovery far more so than the tablets. Yes I needed them to get up and moving, but what prevented me from recurrances or relapses was dealing with the issues that had caused the depression in the first place.

Depression is terrible when it has you in its grasp but recovery IS possible.

carolinespring

I have read all the posts and just want to say what brave, amazing, inspiring and wonderful women you all are. I am lucky that I dont suffer from depression but my mother did and I grew up living with her depression which was due to everyone one else and SHE was not depressed and such things should NEVER be talked about. I had the most amazing father who really was our saving grace. It was only after my Dads death that she finally got the help she needed and only has the odd set back now. I resented her for years for the loss of our childhood but now fully understand it was her illness and not her that took it from us. Of course her depression has left scars on me but it also makes me so greatful for the life I lead and my happiness. As a kids growing up Aware really helped me cope with mum and I will forever be grateful to them.

Thank you for sharing your stories and I wish you all the best and hope each and everyone of you find peace and happiness

I've finally come to the realization that I may well actually have been suffering from depression for most of my life. Like other people, I've been dismissed by 'friends' as a negative nelly, told to cheer up etc, when the truth is, there's something more to it. I have found that when I have tried to seek help/advice, it has been really condescending. Stuff like 'just stop thinking in such a negative way!' This works for a day or two and then it's back to the same old! I was really struck by what liah posted about never feeling highs - I am exactly the same. I can only recall two or three times in my life when I felt genuine excitement and giddiness. As I get older, any happy feelings seem to be fewer and further apart. It's not that I'm exactly sad, I'm just in this perpetual 'meh' state of mind where I often feel like I couldn't give a sh*t about anything. And it's so frustrating because I'm NOT like that. I'm not lazy or careless or unambitious. But I'm sure I must give that impression some of the time.

For me, the absolute worst and most damaging thing is the feeling that I'm not allowed to be depressed. Anyone I've even tried to talk to has had the 'sure, what have you to moan about? Why would you be depressed?' attitude. As if a reasonably attractive, educated, middle class female should be grateful that things aren't worse. As if telling me about people in Haiti or children in foster homes is somehow supposed to make me feel better. It doesn't. It just makes me feel guilty for feeling so down and then I get even more down for being so 'ungrateful' for everything I have. And as a result, I've spent my life trying to convince myself that I'm just 'a bit down' or that I just need to do a bit of exercise because obviously I'm not really depressed. And that can't be healthy. All I want is to feel what other people feel. To not see everything through a black cloud and have to work incredibly hard to remain optimistic and upbeat. To not exhaust myself mentally with trying to meet everyones' expectations and keep everyone happy. To not beat myself up all the time and overanalyse other peoples' behaviour towards me. I'll stop now before I bore people but really, I wish people would be a bit more understanding about depression.

liah

Braelynn Quiet Rainfall wrote: »

I've finally come to the realization that I may well actually have been suffering from depression for most of my life. Like other people, I've been dismissed by 'friends' as a negative nelly, told to cheer up etc, when the truth is, there's something more to it. I have found that when I have tried to seek help/advice, it has been really condescending. Stuff like 'just stop thinking in such a negative way!' This works for a day or two and then it's back to the same old! I was really struck by what liah posted about never feeling highs - I am exactly the same. I can only recall two or three times in my life when I felt genuine excitement and giddiness. As I get older, any happy feelings seem to be fewer and further apart. It's not that I'm exactly sad, I'm just in this perpetual 'meh' state of mind where I often feel like I couldn't give a sh*t about anything. And it's so frustrating because I'm NOT like that. I'm not lazy or careless or unambitious. But I'm sure I must give that impression some of the time.

For me, the absolute worst and most damaging thing is the feeling that I'm not allowed to be depressed. Anyone I've even tried to talk to has had the 'sure, what have you to moan about? Why would you be depressed?' attitude. As if a reasonably attractive, educated, middle class female should be grateful that things aren't worse. As if telling me about people in Haiti or children in foster homes is somehow supposed to make me feel better. It doesn't. It just makes me feel guilty for feeling so down and then I get even more down for being so 'ungrateful' for everything I have. And as a result, I've spent my life trying to convince myself that I'm just 'a bit down' or that I just need to do a bit of exercise because obviously I'm not really depressed. And that can't be healthy. All I want is to feel what other people feel. To not see everything through a black cloud and have to work incredibly hard to remain optimistic and upbeat. To not exhaust myself mentally with trying to meet everyones' expectations and keep everyone happy. To not beat myself up all the time and overanalyse other peoples' behaviour towards me. I'll stop now before I bore people but really, I wish people would be a bit more understanding about depression.

Totally relate 100% Izzy. If it helps, what I have is atypical depression-- http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Atypical_depression for a basic outline of what it involves.*

It's this listlessness, like you said, a constant "meh" state-- not necessarily constantly low, just constantly.. "meh." Not laziness, just no.. buzz. No adrenaline or endorphins I guess? I have to force myself to appear energetic when making smalltalk with people-- it's not that I care less, or that I'm cold, or lazy, or distant, I'm just.. not as energetic, or something, unless it's something I'm genuinely passionate about. But people don't know the difference, now, and slowly I'm not able to tell it, either, and that's another step forward.

It's so much easier to think negatively than positively, it's only the last two years or so where I've really been able to overcome this and start to gain true positivity. A lot of it came from forcing myself to act that way and think that way, and after long enough, that ends up being just how you think. It's like anything else: tell it to yourself long enough and you do end up believing and becoming it.

It always bothers me, though.. I get this horrible twinge of jealousy that springs up when I see people genuinely happy and filled with joy and excitement and unbridled optimism. I want to be giddy and bubbly and happy like that. And it just doesn't happen to me. That's the hardest bit to cope with, but you can get past it.


Mostly.


*EDIT: Although I was diagnosed with atypical depression (this was when I was 14), the summary of dysthymia on wiki ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dysthymia ) sounds far closer to what it is I've been dealing with for the last few years.

An interesting read, and if you find yourself relating to a lot of it it may be a good idea to go to a doctor and see if what you think is true and maybe can be fixed.

doctor evil

I couldn't be bothered to do this anonmyously as I'm fairly sure no one knows me behind my username.

I've come to the conclusion that what I have is biological in nature.

I think I have had depression since before puberty. For a long time what I was feeling/not feeling didn't have a name. I could spent days in bed and I just constantly felt low but I wouldn't recognise it as low as such. I did miss a lot of days in primary school and secondary was not much better. First year wasn't as bad but second and particularly third year I was down badly. I changed schools once or twice and spent a lot of time in bed so there are things I feel I have missed out on.

I was formally diagnosed when I was doing my leaving cert. I have been on a few different medications and what I am on now is not too bad. I am intelligent but I don't have a leaving cert or any qualification to my name. It felt harder writing that last sentence. At the moment I am not working and even though I had have the forms from the doctor for ages I have yet to send it for disability.

Feelin' a bit dumbfounded and not too sure how to finish this. Amazing when you are numb and exist in a cucoon.

Sardonicat

doctor evil wrote: »

Amazing when you are numb and exist in a cucoon.

Wow! I thought it was just me!

Well done everyone for your courage! We all still seem to plug away anyhow.
Feel inspired by a the posts on here by the sheer determination shown in the face of suffering from depression or having to deal with someone out of control and in denial.

If we take nothing else form this thread perhaps we can see what troopers we are really and send that realisation to the part of our psyches called "self esteem"!

Seren_

Kudos to the OP for starting this, and well done on everyone for sharing your stories - they're really inspiring.

I was diagnosed with depression at the start of this year. I'd been on a downwards spiral for a few months before I talked to someone about it. It's not something that was new for me though, I was depressed for most of the time between the ages of 15 and 18 as well; I just tried to keep it to myself though.

I was born with a pretty bad visual impairment (I hate admitting that ) and from what I've talked about with my various therapists, that's where I think my depression/problems started from... I hated myself for not being normal, for not being as good enough as other people... I thought my parents loved me less because of it. I still think all of them things to an extent. Self-hatred is a pretty good way of making yourself depressed! And then that lead to other things, like anxiety and food issues. I'm a bit messed up to say the least

I'm slightly on the mend now. Or at least trying to be. One of the worst things about having a mental illness is the guilt you feel about it. When I'm really down I treat my friends like sh1t because I can't cope with how I feel, and I hate that. I'd love to wake up tomorrow morning and have a working brain/mind, but I guess we have to take what we get :pac:

Stigma around mental health problems is one of the things that I hate most. I in 4 people will suffer from depression at some point in their lives - so why will nobody talk about it?? Just because it's not as visible as a broken leg doesn't mean it doesn't exist.

The Sweeper

I think it's kinda cool to see both sides of the story in this thread.

In my experience there are two groups of people who suffer from depression. There are those who are suffering from depression, and those who are suffering from the people who are suffering from depression.

Apologies if that sounds interminably cruel, I really don't mean it to be.

My experience of depression is through my OH's mother, who suffers from depression but who may also have a number of other undiagnosed conditions. In my non-medical opinion, I sincerely believe her to be bipolar. She has days of extremely high emotion where she is the life and soul of the party and then she'll take to her bed for three days afterwards.

At the moment, my OH's mother and I do not speak. We haven't spoken since May this year. For the three years and one month previous to that, her mental illness took over my entire life. On the light end, it was the mood swings, the bitchiness, the incredible, all-pervading high drama that every tiny incident turned into. On the heavy end, it was doctors appointments and searching her personal items on the sly to make sure she wasn't hoarding tablets she could use to hurt herself (as that's the way she's professed to want to go if she ever commits suicide - to take something and slip into a sleep where she won't ever wake up).

The problem I have with my OH's mother is that her mental issues are the result of what has not been a nice life. Subsequently, she is incredibly manipulative, she can be nasty, she is absolutely unbelieveably twofaced. She thrives on drama and appears to only be able to function by moving from one manufactured crisis to the next, and once she has involved everyone in her crisis, she will then collapse and profess an inability to cope and everyone must gather around and prop her up and then we have a short period of calm until the next manufactured crisis.

Her manipulativeness has been stunning - every time I tried to withdraw, and have a break, she would throw herself on the mercy of other onlookers and declare how broken up she was that "I didn't like her". They didn't understand that her reaction was due to her depression and her issues, and treated me as though I was the cruellest person in the world for trying to put some distance between myself and what was, frankly, a circus. They also blamed me for her state of mind, stating she was "sad" and if we - my OH and I - were to just 'be nicer to her', she might no longer be sad.

It came to a head in May just past, when I realised that virtually every day of my week was taken up with some crisis, some third party threat of suicide (e.g. "I think XYZ is going to kill themsleves!!") and accusations of mental illness (if my OH was short with her one day, she'd accuse my OH of being schizophrenic, and try and take me to one side to confide in me that she believed my OH needed to see a specialist and get treatment for what were obvious personality defects). I also realised that dealing with this, every day, every week, was making me into someone I didn't like - I was short tempered, cranky, intolerent, I had no conversation other than the latest thing my OH's mother had done, and it was impacting my entire life - my friends, my working life (phonecalls, having to step out of the office, so on, so forth).

In fact - to my amazement I found my OH's mother's depression was almost contagious - in dealing with her, I began to feel extremely low, exhausted, unmotivated, hopeless. One day I got the fright of my life when I realised that, while I was nowhere close to suicidal, I suddenly recognised why suicidal people end their lives. I had an insight, an understanding into that yawning chasm of hopelessness where they are falling and can never see any way out. It was a massive eye-opener - but instead of generating empathy in me for my OH's mother, it frightened the wits out of me at how close she had come to dragging me in there with her.

Additionally while she can be persuaded to seek medical help and be medicated when she is extremely low, once the medication starts to work and she starts to feel stable again, instead of continuing to medicate she will focus on this apparent feeling of resentment that she ended up on medication, so she will stop taking it and we then go through about a month to six weeks of extremes - mood swings, argumentativeness, and literal staging of dramatic episodes that can escalate to violence (depending who she involves or is interacting with) and has such an incredibly negative knock-on effect through people in and outside our circle.

So in May, I withdrew completely. Oh, my, how I have had to shrug off the criticisms, the judgements, the bitching. My ears were burning for months. I was the Sunday in every week there for a while, no doubt - deconstructed and torn to shreds at every opportunity, and mark me it's difficult to carry on your life unaffected while knowing there's a bunch of peope out there dissecting you like that, especially if you feel it's unjustified.

Subsequently this leaves me in an unfortunate position in my current and future interpersonal relationships, and again I apologise if this seems interminably cruel - but if you told me you suffered from depression or a mental illness, I'd run a million miles from you, not because I have no experience of it, but specifically because of the experience I have had.

Finally, I just want to say to those of you who actively seek treatment for your illness, who stay on your medication, and who make an effort to recognise your mood for what it is and act accordingly - thank you, you're the first step in restoring my faith that it doesn't have to be this way.

Wibbs

The Sweeper wrote: »

I think it's kinda cool to see both sides of the story in this thread.

+1

In my experience there are two groups of people who suffer from depression. There are those who are suffering from depression, and those who are suffering from the people who are suffering from depression.

+1000 I would liken it having an untreated alcoholic in the family as far as the effect on those around them.

Apologies if that sounds interminably cruel, I really don't mean it to be.

I hear where you're coming from and have experience of it myself. In my case it's my mother. She's not as extreme as how you describe your OH's mother. It's more low level. Now it seems to be a situational depression because of myriad other physical ailments, rather than something clinical(though it may as well be). I suppose the best way to describe the result is that the negative character traits we all possess to some degree, have come to the fore and the positive traits are very much in the background. But that doesn't make it any easier to deal with. Unfortunately as I'm the only family member around it's down to me and I can't get away from it so all the shíte flows down.

On the light end, it was the mood swings, the bitchiness, the incredible, all-pervading high drama that every tiny incident turned into.

Sounds all too familiar.

Her manipulativeness has been stunning

Familiar again. Along with the above mood swings and bitchiness and aggression and low level paranoia. To the degree I've actually lost good relationships because of it in the past. In a way I'm the one in your OH's position. Unfortunately my exes didn't hang around and who could blame them TBH.

In fact - to my amazement I found my OH's mother's depression was almost contagious - in dealing with her, I began to feel extremely low, exhausted, unmotivated, hopeless. One day I got the fright of my life when I realised that, while I was nowhere close to suicidal, I suddenly recognised why suicidal people end their lives. I had an insight, an understanding into that yawning chasm of hopelessness where they are falling and can never see any way out. It was a massive eye-opener - but instead of generating empathy in me for my OH's mother, it frightened the wits out of me at how close she had come to dragging me in there with her.

Again we're reading from much the same script TS. Especially with the contagion aspect. You do get drawn into their world and the more you're in their world(in my case by direct necessity) the more it seems normal to you and yes you start to mirror them. I too got the fright of my life and wakeup call when my last relationship ended as a direct result of her BS. I realised I had been enabling her and digging myself ever deeper into that world and it affected my life and was affecting my future. Fúck that. So I resolved to detach my emotions from it as much as possible, even though I have less choice on phyiscally detaching. It was difficult because of being immersed so long, but doable. Now because I'm still in it so to speak it does get to me the odd time. There have been times over the last few years where I reacted to other stuff in my life only to cop a week later and have a "WTF was I thinking?". In every case I was deflecting it unhealthily elsewhere. But like you did, now I recognise it far more than I did in the past and step away. It can be still hard to do though.

So in May, I withdrew completely. Oh, my, how I have had to shrug off the criticisms, the judgements, the bitching. My ears were burning for months. I was the Sunday in every week there for a while, no doubt - deconstructed and torn to shreds at every opportunity, and mark me it's difficult to carry on your life unaffected while knowing there's a bunch of peope out there dissecting you like that, especially if you feel it's unjustified.

This may sound selfish, but I say fcuk em and the horse they rode in on. Life is too bloody short and if you can remove yourself from something toxic like that you should for your own sanity and your life. FWIW I think you're dead right.

Subsequently this leaves me in an unfortunate position in my current and future interpersonal relationships, and again I apologise if this seems interminably cruel - but if you told me you suffered from depression or a mental illness, I'd run a million miles from you, not because I have no experience of it, but specifically because of the experience I have had.

Ditto TBH. I think I've had enough to last a lifetime. I've paid my dues as it were. No more.

Finally, I just want to say to those of you who actively seek treatment for your illness, who stay on your medication, and who make an effort to recognise your mood for what it is and act accordingly - thank you, you're the first step in restoring my faith that it doesn't have to be this way.

+1000. I know a few people diagnosed with this terrible illness and it has a huge range of severity and expression. One guy I know he is very active in treatment. He has really worked at it. I had an ex way back who was the same. In both their cases it was more like dealing with someone with diabetes or some other long term illness. There was the odd crisis, but otherwise they were no different to anyone else(other than me having admiration for them considering the illness). Others however were and are a complete nightmare. Though IME sometimes it seems to me their treatments(eps drugs) are actually making things worse. Of course unlike other illnesses it attacks the core of someone and worse attacks the very mechanisms that would allow people to make objective decisions about their state of mind.

illiop

I’ve been debating all day whether or not to post in this thread. I’ve never been diagnosed with anything but I’m fairly certain I at least have some mild form of depression.

I felt like this for years but never really thought I could be depressed. I echo what so many other posters have said; how could an educated, middle class, not unattractive girl be depressed? I had a bit of a hard time in secondary school but that was it. I always looked at people, especially friends, who were far worse off than me and this made me feel guilty about “being down” until eventually I just started hating myself.

I get horrendous mood-swings, I can be deliriously happy one minute and be in floods of tears the next, I also seem to suffer from sort of social anxiety or perhaps even social paranoia too.

Things got pretty bad around the beginning of October and for the first time I found myself thinking about suicide, not doing it necessarily just things like if I was to do it how I would go about it etc. I completely broke down to a friend one night (after a drinking session which is about the only time I’m comfortable talking emotions) and he recommended taking St John’s Wort (which is OTC here in Spain). I did and it really helped immensely.

I went off it for a week or so because I was on anti-biotic and wasn’t sure how they’d interact but since going back on it hasn’t been working as well or it could just be that winter has since kicked in big time. Also things I don’t like about my life have been catching up on me recently and most of them are things I have no power to change.

I try my best to keep upbeat; I’ve started drawing and writing again, I walk everywhere, get out of the city as often as possible. But on the other side I have some terrible habits; I drink too much, eat too much sugar and I tend whore around a bit when I get down, none which are good fro my physical or mental health…but there are worse habits.

This thread is very good. It’s nice to see other women sharing there stories and feelings. I think more time is spent talking about depression in young men because of their high suicide rates, I’m not saying that’s a bad thing but it’s good to hear about how it affects women.

Das Kitty

I'm a sufferer too. I had 2 very low lows in my life. The first when I was 17. My mother brought me to the doctor and I was told I would feel better after the leaving cert. I battled through and spoke to the doctor again when I was 23 and she put me on Lexapro. I came off it when I realised that it was making me not care about my relationship. So last time I was bad I didn't seek help as I didn't want to be medicated again. As a result it got very bad as I was in denial of it. I developed tics, I was too afraid of upsetting people to be in the Internet, I was sure that friends who I hadn't been in contact with for a while hated me. I never contemplated suicide but I thought of the consequences of it. I tried telling my Mum but she wouldn't take in what I was telling her. It wasn't getting through and I wasn't strong enough to push it. My husband knew but not the extent of it. I let it all spill out in the end after about a year of this feeling. And started feeling better.

I was still recovering when I got pregnant and when pregnant I never felt better. I felt as though I finally knew what it was like to feel normal. Afterwards I felt low again. I had changed doctor so I went to him about it. Considering the evidence he told me that there may be a hormonal element in my problem. He diagnosed light exercise and evening Primrose oil. That was 5 months ago now and I think I feel even more normal now than I did while pregnant. I get defined PMT now where I feel a bit weepy a few days before my period but I can now get through most of the time feeling self assured. It's wonderful.

sheep-go-baa

I've had depression for as long as I can physically remember. It stole my childhood and I never even realised it at the time. I used to cry myself to sleep and hope that I would't wake up in the morning. I lived in an unstable home and my parents later divorced. I was miserable and just couldn't get it together to care about anything other than what a failure I was (in my own head).

The feeling subsided for a while when I was 15, I just thought maybe it was something everyone felt and it was over now. But the stress of 6th year brought it all back, as well as some family issues. I started self harming and seriously considered suicide. This time was differrent as I had friends to confide in and help me. I can honestly say that I mightn't be alive if it wasn't for them. I only felt able to ask for medical help just before I started college (3 months ago) I'm doing pretty well atm and knowing that happiness is out there and attainable is amazing.

What I most regret/hate about depression is the way I treat my friends. I was awful to them during 6th year and put them through so much worry. If I could change it I would but even if I could turn back time my brain just wouldn't let me behave any better.

I want to thank anyone of you who has ever supported someone with depression. I know that it can be an awful experience to put up with people like that. You are amazing people.

Sardonicat

I think it might be time to point out that bipolar disorder and depression are not the same illness and it is important to make a distinction between the two.There is already enough mis-informationa and confusion out there that already contributes to the stigma that sufferer's and their families encounter.

I would also like to add that suffereing form either does not automatically predispose anyone to a some of the appalling behaviour described by some family members here. Bad behaviour isn't neccessarily caused by a depression/bipolar disorder, I believe it can be exasperated , but an individual's core personality and values also play a role in how they behave.

metrovelvet

Wibbs wrote: »

+1

+1000 I would liken it having an untreated alcoholic in the family as far as the effect on those around them.
I hear where you're coming from and have experience of it myself. In my case it's my mother. She's not as extreme as how you describe your OH's mother. It's more low level. Now it seems to be a situational depression because of myriad other physical ailments, rather than something clinical(though it may as well be). I suppose the best way to describe the result is that the negative character traits we all possess to some degree, have come to the fore and the positive traits are very much in the background. But that doesn't make it any easier to deal with. Unfortunately as I'm the only family member around it's down to me and I can't get away from it so all the shíte flows down.

Sounds all too familiar.

Familiar again. Along with the above mood swings and bitchiness and aggression and low level paranoia. To the degree I've actually lost good relationships because of it in the past. In a way I'm the one in your OH's position. Unfortunately my exes didn't hang around and who could blame them TBH.


Again we're reading from much the same script TS. Especially with the contagion aspect. You do get drawn into their world and the more you're in their world(in my case by direct necessity) the more it seems normal to you and yes you start to mirror them. I too got the fright of my life and wakeup call when my last relationship ended as a direct result of her BS. I realised I had been enabling her and digging myself ever deeper into that world and it affected my life and was affecting my future. Fúck that. So I resolved to detach my emotions from it as much as possible, even though I have less choice on phyiscally detaching. It was difficult because of being immersed so long, but doable. Now because I'm still in it so to speak it does get to me the odd time. There have been times over the last few years where I reacted to other stuff in my life only to cop a week later and have a "WTF was I thinking?". In every case I was deflecting it unhealthily elsewhere. But like you did, now I recognise it far more than I did in the past and step away. It can be still hard to do though.

This may sound selfish, but I say fcuk em and the horse they rode in on. Life is too bloody short and if you can remove yourself from something toxic like that you should for your own sanity and your life. FWIW I think you're dead right.

Ditto TBH. I think I've had enough to last a lifetime. I've paid my dues as it were. No more.

+1000. I know a few people diagnosed with this terrible illness and it has a huge range of severity and expression. One guy I know he is very active in treatment. He has really worked at it. I had an ex way back who was the same. In both their cases it was more like dealing with someone with diabetes or some other long term illness. There was the odd crisis, but otherwise they were no different to anyone else(other than me having admiration for them considering the illness). Others however were and are a complete nightmare. Though IME sometimes it seems to me their treatments(eps drugs) are actually making things worse. Of course unlike other illnesses it attacks the core of someone and worse attacks the very mechanisms that would allow people to make objective decisions about their state of mind.

I started a thread in psych a while ago asking "How do you know when it's the illness and when it's somebody just being a jerk?" and I wasnt asking exclusively about depression but about any number of conditions from alcoholism to aspd. It really is a good question to ask when you are surrounded by people with a number of conditions. "Is this the illness or is s/he being an ass?' Very hard call imo but sometimes they are just being a jerk.

Some of the behavior in your post and the one you were responding to sound like a number of possible conditions [including borderline] which may have accompanied the depression, people with other conditions can also get depressed at times so I wouldnt necessarily pin the pain in the ass behavior to the depressive illness, though I will agree it can appear incredibly selfish at times even in its most moderate forms.

It is probably one of the most complex conditions given that it can be intellectual or biological or both simultaneously or maybe even character/archetype prone.

Links234

I've suffered with depression and anxiety for most of my adult life, and so much of this thread I relate to completely. Thank you everyone for being so brave and posting your stories

I know what it's like having a parent who's got mental issues as well. my mum wonderful as she can be can also be horrible. she's been prescribed anti depressants, but doesn't take them.

She's not all that bad, but she's extremely passive aggressive and the worst thing is that everything has to be about her. If she has a problem she demands sympathy from everyone, but if someone comes to her with a problem, she has no sympathy for them and turns everything back to her again. like, oh you've got an issues? well I've got this issue that's 10 times worse! if you've got a back ache, she's got a worse one. if you're feeling down, she's feeling even more down than you. no matter what, she'll always have a mystery ailment to pull out of her sleeve.

so no matter what problems I've got, no matter how low I'll be feeling, I can never go to her with my troubles. I'd been self harming, contemplating suicide and even making an attempt, but I could never talk to her because whenever I open my mouth to talk about how I was feeling, she had something to trump me with. it made me feel like I was insignificant, that I didn't matter, and that I had nobody to talk to. so I just bottled everything up inside.

and on the other hand, I find it so hard to have any sympathy for mum because I can never tell if there's genuinely something wrong with her, or is it just another thing she's pulled from her bag of tricks. and it always comes with such accusation and anger, like you don't care at all about me, and it's hard to sympathise with someone who's ranting at you.

the only time she's ever given me a moments sympathy and made me feel she was there for me in recent memory was when I came out to her as transgender and I broke down in tears. I was happy for that, she knew I was in a lot of pain at the time. but it didn't really change anything between us, which makes me sad

Novella

The Sweeper mentioned above about there being two kinds of people - those who suffer from depression and those who suffer with people suffering from depression. I'd tend to agree, and that's having lived and experienced both.

All of my life, my mum has had some kind of depression or issue. After I was born, she was diagnosed with post-natal depression so I lived with my grandparents for a number of years. I grew up thinking she wasn't bothered, to be honest. I thought she was more interested in work than in me and my childhood. I suppose explaining depression to a five year old was never gonna be easy, but my feeling of abandonment wasn't easy either.

So I know how hard it is to deal with the fact that someone you love so much isn't well mentally. I just wanted to say that although it can seem like these people don't care about how much worry etc., they are causing, I'm pretty sure many of them do care, and care a hell of a lot.

It wasn't until I was in the depths of depression myself that I came to realise my mum had always loved me and was only trying to do what was best for me. Ya see, I pushed many people away too. I told people I didn't wanna be friends, that I didn't love them... but really I just didn't want them to be around me 'cause seeing them upset, upset for me, was something I never wanted to happen in a million years.

At other times, I messed up relationships and friendships and only with hindsight can I see now how terribly self absorbed I was. Depression is probably a bit like having imperfect vision... It's hard to see what's right in front of you. Everything becomes distorted by negativity. Maybe it sounds like an excuse now, but I genuinely often didn't think of how my actions would affect others because I couldn't see them... My mind just thought, "Oh, X and Y don't care anyway" so they disappeared.

I never didn't care about people though, nor did I ever mean to hurt anyone other than myself. It really, really upsets me now to think that anyone I love would for a second think that they're the cause of my sadness, or think that I want to push them away, or think anything other than the fact that I appreciate them and adore them.

I'm just saying this for anyone who is dealing with someone else's depression. Don't ever think that it's because of you, or that you're not important. Just try to understand that depression is actually like a huge cloud, one that hides all the good and all the positive and when it lifts, I guarantee they'll be so glad to see you still there.

bluecatmorgana

God what can I say about depression.Lets see......
As far as I can remember I have suffered from depression from starting school which to me is when you truly develop a sense of you in society. I remember being content and happy when I was four at home with my mammy before my brother was born. I was a pudgey kid but even then I thought I was grossly fat. Around 7 apparently I stopped talking according to my mam but I cant remember. I do know that my little brother constantly bullied me and made my life hell. At 11 my 19 year old sister became pregnant and my family life became worse. It was hell at home as their were fights between my sister and parents, my older brothers, my older brothers and parents. Around 12 I remember believing that the only thing to do was either kill myself or move out as soon as I could. I became set on getting through school as fast as I could and getting a business like job. This turned out not to be a good mindset.

I hated secondary school and just wanted to get through it asap. I refused to do tranisiton year which looking back would have been extremely benefital. I thought I was obese when in fact I was just fat. I tried diet after diet but it was too difficult. I remember crying in my room and then washing my face so noone would know. For me that was true depression caused by biological factors, in other words I was crying and didnt know why, my environment didnt help but a "normal " person might have coped.

At 16 my eldest sister died, I actually coped quite well with her death but saw it as a chance to get medication as my mam was very relluctant to give them to me. I saw the doctor and he gave me cipramil , no counciling therapy etc was offered or even discussed. At this stage 2 of my older brothers and 2 older sisters were on meds. I took them for about 6 months and didnt really feel much difference. My mams worrying eventually made me stop taking them.

I went to college and was very lonely. I think at the time apart from depression I was also suffering from anxiety and social anxiety as I would never go out to any college stuff or out with friends. I was over weight bordering on obese but honestly believed I was morbidly obese. As a result I stopped caring about my looks and started eating rubbish until I actually became morbidly obese. An aunt I was close to died in those first 6 months. I went on a holiday to san francisco to see my aunt and uncle and had an amazing time.It felt like a real life for the first time.On the drive back home from the airport I started to realise that I was going back to my old life and became disparing. I cried to my mam and said I didnt know why so I went to the doctor in college who put me back on cipramil. For the next four years I desperately struggled with college and barely made it out in one piece.In those years I came to the conclusion that I would be on anti depressants for the rest of my life.

When I got work after I left college I went to a doctor who eventually sent me to see a psychiatrist and cbt therapist. It was ok but I never really improved. I also moved in with one of my friends who I was in love with , well big mistake , and work continued on .

So the big change is a story that came about as a result of a job change. I got a job that paid better and got me away from my "friends" in my old job. To cut a long story short it was highly pressurized and I left after 6 months. I moved back home and had a nervous breakdown. My mam wanted me to go see a private psychiatrist and I agreed because at the time I had truly given up and was just sleeping all the time. I saw a brilliant psychiatrist in Deans Clinic associated with St, Patricks Hospital that diagnosed me with severe depression. He upped my dosage of effexor XL and started me on solian which is an anti-psychotic drug. I also started volunteering in a centre for people with learning disabilities. THats when I started to improve. that was a year and a half ago.

Curently I am living at home, doing an online course in social studies and am volunteering in the day centre. I keep my life extremely simple and free of stress. I sometimes feel sad about what I could have achieved and what will never be but my philosophy is this: I cannot commit suicide as it would break my families heart too much, I have to live in this world somehow and survive. I would like to live comfortably with no pain. So I have decided to keep everything simple and stress free. THis probably means no reaching my potential. I probably will never have a boyfriend and I keep in contact with only one friend who I see about once a month. More than that causes stress which I cannot cope with.

I am proud of myself. I have managed to carve some sort of life out for myself out of the wreckage. I would say to anyone suffering from depression, GET HELP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You cant get through this alone. Find a psychiatrist ( not a doctor because their not a specialist and if their anything like mine they will just stick you on anti D's ) a good one and find what works for you. It may mean sacrificing things you like , like a career, friends, alcohol but when you finally accept it you'll begin to feel not happy but perhaps content and comfortable.

metrovelvet

Novella wrote: »

The Sweeper mentioned above about there being two kinds of people - those who suffer from depression and those who suffer with people suffering from depression. I'd tend to agree, and that's having lived and experienced both.

All of my life, my mum has had some kind of depression or issue. After I was born, she was diagnosed with post-natal depression so I lived with my grandparents for a number of years. I grew up thinking she wasn't bothered, to be honest. I thought she was more interested in work than in me and my childhood. I suppose explaining depression to a five year old was never gonna be easy, but my feeling of abandonment wasn't easy either.

So I know how hard it is to deal with the fact that someone you love so much isn't well mentally. I just wanted to say that although it can seem like these people don't care about how much worry etc., they are causing, I'm pretty sure many of them do care, and care a hell of a lot.

It wasn't until I was in the depths of depression myself that I came to realise my mum had always loved me and was only trying to do what was best for me. Ya see, I pushed many people away too. I told people I didn't wanna be friends, that I didn't love them... but really I just didn't want them to be around me 'cause seeing them upset, upset for me, was something I never wanted to happen in a million years.

At other times, I messed up relationships and friendships and only with hindsight can I see now how terribly self absorbed I was. Depression is probably a bit like having imperfect vision... It's hard to see what's right in front of you. Everything becomes distorted by negativity. Maybe it sounds like an excuse now, but I genuinely often didn't think of how my actions would affect others because I couldn't see them... My mind just thought, "Oh, X and Y don't care anyway" so they disappeared.

I never didn't care about people though, nor did I ever mean to hurt anyone other than myself. It really, really upsets me now to think that anyone I love would for a second think that they're the cause of my sadness, or think that I want to push them away, or think anything other than the fact that I appreciate them and adore them.

I'm just saying this for anyone who is dealing with someone else's depression. Don't ever think that it's because of you, or that you're not important. Just try to understand that depression is actually like a huge cloud, one that hides all the good and all the positive and when it lifts, I guarantee they'll be so glad to see you still there.

It's a paradox. Its like you dont have enough ego to not be egotistical if you get me. You are hibernating in a kind of deadness where its very hard to find anything that matters, even you and its hard to get the energy together to do the smallest things like pick up the phone and you can forget you matter to others and so egotism is a kind of odd bi product of having no ego.

At the same time, it is an invisible illness. If you were sick with a chronic disease like cancer or chrons or whatever, no one would dare be upset with you but depression is so mysterious that it is nearly impossible for others to negotiate it, or understand it.

apsalar

Thank you all for replying to the opening post...

Some of your stories have been so painful for me to read I actually regretted bringing up the topic. I hope that by sharing your stories there has been a sense of relief- getting it all off your chest to others that understand and just feeling better for saying, hey, this is me...and I don't have to be sorry about it.

Dudess asked earlier if I get therapy..I'm ashamed to admit that aside from my psychiatrist it's pretty patchy. Especially during my depressive lows. I can't even speak to my OH let alone another person. Part of it has to do with the shame of finding myself yet again in a bad way. You'd think by now I would accept that after the highs come the lows. It's a cycle I can predict but still get suprised by each and every time. duh!?

Self-acceptance is a continuos battle and I think that's the most soul destroying aspect of my condition. It's a personal war I may never win but learning to love myself even when I sometimes feel I would like to be a different person has been the most beneficial thing to me.

Metrovelevet, you're absolutely right, you simply can't tell when it's the illness or simple nastiness at work. I can admt to being pretty mean to my OH who shrugs it off as my having a bad day. It's bad I know, but what can I say? Sometimes I'm bitchy for no good reason:rolleyes:.....it's bad and I always say sorry, but I do take advantage of his understanding ways.

To all those living with sufferers, I applaud you. I simply couldn't imagine having to deal with myself when in a bad way. It must be awful. Love and tolerance can only stretch so far and I have nothing but admiration. If my own nternal environment can be so toxic to ME, what more for the people around me?

sheep-go-baa

Novella wrote: »

The Sweeper mentioned above about there being two kinds of people - those who suffer from depression and those who suffer with people suffering from depression. I'd tend to agree, and that's having lived and experienced both.

All of my life, my mum has had some kind of depression or issue. After I was born, she was diagnosed with post-natal depression so I lived with my grandparents for a number of years. I grew up thinking she wasn't bothered, to be honest. I thought she was more interested in work than in me and my childhood. I suppose explaining depression to a five year old was never gonna be easy, but my feeling of abandonment wasn't easy either.

So I know how hard it is to deal with the fact that someone you love so much isn't well mentally. I just wanted to say that although it can seem like these people don't care about how much worry etc., they are causing, I'm pretty sure many of them do care, and care a hell of a lot.

It wasn't until I was in the depths of depression myself that I came to realise my mum had always loved me and was only trying to do what was best for me. Ya see, I pushed many people away too. I told people I didn't wanna be friends, that I didn't love them... but really I just didn't want them to be around me 'cause seeing them upset, upset for me, was something I never wanted to happen in a million years.

At other times, I messed up relationships and friendships and only with hindsight can I see now how terribly self absorbed I was. Depression is probably a bit like having imperfect vision... It's hard to see what's right in front of you. Everything becomes distorted by negativity. Maybe it sounds like an excuse now, but I genuinely often didn't think of how my actions would affect others because I couldn't see them... My mind just thought, "Oh, X and Y don't care anyway" so they disappeared.

I never didn't care about people though, nor did I ever mean to hurt anyone other than myself. It really, really upsets me now to think that anyone I love would for a second think that they're the cause of my sadness, or think that I want to push them away, or think anything other than the fact that I appreciate them and adore them.

I'm just saying this for anyone who is dealing with someone else's depression. Don't ever think that it's because of you, or that you're not important. Just try to understand that depression is actually like a huge cloud, one that hides all the good and all the positive and when it lifts, I guarantee they'll be so glad to see you still there.

You have explained incredibly eloquently what so many others find hard to put into words. Thank you for that incredible post

Dudess

Bluecatmorgana, don't be so harsh on yourself - you deserve love and close friendship like anyone else...

Xiney

Ladies,

Please note that this thread isn't for:

a) discussing the causes of depression (including whether it can be cured by reading a positive thinking book)

b) discussing benefits for those with depression (there is a long term illness forum & a state benefits forum for that)

c) rambling so incoherently we can't tell whether you're on topic or not.


All off topic posts have been deleted.


On a positive note, the snow outside is beautiful and sure put a smile on my face this morning

CathyMoran

My mother has suffered with severe mental illness all her life but she has never had it treated or been diagnosed so I can not say what illness(es) she is suffereing from. I know that she had severe postnatal depression after me (my daddy had to keep me away from my mother) but it was never treated. She was/is very physically abusive, her mood would change from one second to the next and you never knew when she would hit you next (she only hit me and my daddy), she would also get into extreme violent rages. I tried to report her several times but the school ignored it/the doctor blamed me (it was my fault according to him that she was hitting me as I must have been provoking her, right!).

I keep contact with her to a minimum but she still lives with my daddy so unfortunatly I have to see her sometimes.

I am always scared that I will get ill like her and have my husband keep an eye on me. I have no problem with those with mental illness as long as it is treated - untreated, yes, it scares me.

LegacyUser

I've never been diagnosed, but I think I suffered from depression when I was younger. When I'm low, I get anxious, particularly around other people.

When I was around 10, I genuinely hated myself. I thought I was fat (I was a little overweight), getting bullied and I had no friends. I dreaded going into school and the 30 minutes of lunch was hell for me. I was fine for a while once I left primary school but for those few years I just wanted to get out of this life.

In around third year I was bullied again. I lost all my friends and I crashed. For about a year and a half I felt so low. I wanted to kill myself a few times, I actually cut myself a couple of times but I loved the feeling but I felt I didn't deserve to have such a nice feeling so I stopped. I was so lonely and so upset but I cut myself off from everyone.

I've never talked to people about this. I told one friend who is clearly depressed from abuse that is ongoing. I told her because I knew she wouldn't tell other people. I don't think other people would believe me if I said anything because I come across quite happy and fairly confident in myself but for the longest time I wasn't. My self confidence is still fairly low, even now.
I couldn't tell my family. There is such a huge taboo about mental health in my extended family. My cousin killed herself and we just don't talk about it. An aunt suffered a break down and we just act like she was in hospital with the flu or something that she'll just "get over".

I know I should have gone to the doctor when I was feeling so bad. I just never had a spare €50 or a way to get there without my parents asking where I was going. I was also terrified that my doctor would have to tell my parents.

This sounds so doom and gloom but I've been feeling fantastic for about a month. It's absurd, I'm in 6th year and it's very stressful but I am feeling the best that I have felt for about two years now

LegacyUser

Hi all,
It has been such an eye opener for me reading all your experiences and how hard it might have been to post them up here.

I too, probably suffer from depression but for so long I have thought I was going mad or I would snap out of it. It's only from reading these threads that I can identify with people and that I'm not as mad as I first thought.

With me it's not really a big reason, but lots of small things coming together and each time my confidence takes a blow I become a little more withdrawn. I despise my job, don't get on with my mother and haven't for as long as I can remember. I have had two boyfriends and both of them hurt me blatantly on a number of occasions by just being plain nasty and lying to me about various tihngs. In the last year, four people who were friends have decided they don't want anything to do with me, the most recent being last week. I don't know the reasons for this, maybe they could sense I was depressed or something and didn't like the person I was becoming. I have days where I feel elated and that nothing could bother me and then there are days when I want to curl up in a ball. Because of these "friends" who want nothing to do with me anymore, I am almost paranoid around new people and can't enjoy myself because I am so worried about whether they like me, or can even sense how I'm feeling.

I was on holidays over summer and I cried for five hours on a plane because one of these friends who doesn't talk to me anymore basically said I was annoying, hyper, confrontational, moany and too happy. I couldn't understand how I could be all of these things as they are so different. When I thought about her reasons for this, it transpired that a girl took a dislike to me and blew a friendly/jokey debate into something that reallt hurt her and she was upset and trust me it was over something stupid that I fail to see why it upset someone.

I just feel that if anymore people don't want anything to do with me I will have no friends left. I feel I have been treated badly by these people in the past year and did nothing to deserve it but yet I am so paranoid now around people I'm scared they will pick up on it.

Can anyone here give a brief outline, if allowed by the mods, of what counselling or that first visit to your doctor involves? How long does counselling last or is it up to yourself? Just I think if I had these things clear in my mind that I might make a positive step in getting the help I finally need.

jeep

apsalar wrote: »

Thank you all for replying to the opening post...

Some of your stories have been so painful for me to read I actually regretted bringing up the topic. I hope that by sharing your stories there has been a sense of relief- getting it all off your chest to others that understand and just feeling better for saying, hey, this is me...and I don't have to be sorry about it.

Dudess asked earlier if I get therapy..I'm ashamed to admit that aside from my psychiatrist it's pretty patchy. Especially during my depressive lows. I can't even speak to my OH let alone another person. Part of it has to do with the shame of finding myself yet again in a bad way. You'd think by now I would accept that after the highs come the lows. It's a cycle I can predict but still get suprised by each and every time. duh!?

Self-acceptance is a continuos battle and I think that's the most soul destroying aspect of my condition. It's a personal war I may never win but learning to love myself even when I sometimes feel I would like to be a different person has been the most beneficial thing to me.

Metrovelevet, you're absolutely right, you simply can't tell when it's the illness or simple nastiness at work. I can admt to being pretty mean to my OH who shrugs it off as my having a bad day. It's bad I know, but what can I say? Sometimes I'm bitchy for no good reason:rolleyes:.....it's bad and I always say sorry, but I do take advantage of his understanding ways.

To all those living with sufferers, I applaud you. I simply couldn't imagine having to deal with myself when in a bad way. It must be awful. Love and tolerance can only stretch so far and I have nothing but admiration. If my own nternal environment can be so toxic to ME, what more for the people around me?

Self Acceptance is my battle, I'm glad I looked here this evening I feel less 'odd' iykwim.

Its also a trait in the women in my family, my Mother,Sister and myself. My Mum was so sad and angry all the time and she turned to alcohol which eventually killed her.

I cope with the help of meds to do what is expected of me as a Mum and Wife but rarely step out of my comfort zone, if I do I'm gripped with anxiety both mentally and physically (I tremble, my palms sweat and stomach churns).

I hated counselling and find my Dog is a great listener..

I'm grateful to you all for sharing.

LegacyUser

will someone please delete my post above, I wanted to type it to get it off my chest but i don't want to leave it there now. thanks

LegacyUser

It's the hardest thing in the world to see the person you love unhappy, but it's something I've had to get used to. Depression really deserves so much more understanding than the flippant attitude given towards it by so many people. It is a horrible, soul destroying disease; it takes away everything you have, and gradually gnaws away at any reason you ever had to live. And it's so so hard to see someone you love suffer like that, to see that dullness in their eyes where there used to be so much light, and to see the curtains close on a future that they just can't see existing anymore. You want to put yourself in their shoes, you want to feel what they feel, so that they might believe you when you say things will get better...and so that you'll believe it yourself. But you can't. All you can do is be there, even during the times when they tell you they don't want you there - because they are the times when they need you the most, even at a distance. You just want to make them better, but you have to accept that it's not that easy, and that the responsibility doesn't lie with you. You can't carry that weight on your shoulders, or it will drag you down and start to work it's way into your very core.

It's hard to think of yourself too, you don't want to be selfish, and sometimes it feels like your problems are so trivial in comparison to what they're going through. But you can't be that way, you can't continue to give and give and give..because you'll just get so pent up with the anger and frustration of not getting anything back. Of course, you'll tell yourself that you're being entirely selfless, that you don't want anything in return; that you love this person and that you'll do anything for them. And that might be true to an extent, but everyone needs someone to love, and if the person you need to love you back just can't do it then it's going to hurt like hell.

You have to accept that things may never get better, that this could last for years, or hide itself and resurface. You have to think long and hard about that, about the kind of life you have ahead of you, and decide if you can handle it. And if you can't, then you need to get out, because you'll do them more harm than good by being a burden instead of a crutch. I did it, I thought about it all, over and over again, Until my thoughts all spilled on to paper in a stream of words that just didn't make sense. But then I looked more closely, and there was one word that made sense of the whole 5 pages I'd written - this one word that kept reappearing again and again amongst the scattering of ink on paper - and that word was 'Love'.

If you love someone, you'll be there no matter what happens. And no matter how much it hurts, you'll keep loving them, because you've decided that it's worth it to you - that they're worth it to you. Because you know, that there is nothing in this world that can fulfil you more than sharing your heart with them. And some days you'll get that love back, some days you'll see that glint in their eye and that spring in their step - and those are the days that will remind you of why you're still there and of how good things can be. Other days will be tough, they'll push you away, they'll hate themselves and in turn hate you for loving them - but that's when you need to remind them of the good days. That's when you remind them of who they are, and why you love them, those are the days that you CAN give and give and give - because you know that when they're ready you'll get it back.