Some of you may know I suffer from depression, but most of you don't. Back in 1991, I was questioned by my TBI doc about my moods, more than once during my stay in the hospital. I declined the antidepressants offered. I saw a psychologist for the 4 months I was in the hospital, and during my last visit I expressed some fears. I was with it enough to know I wasn't going to be able to care for my two small children with the ease I once felt. The hospital was regimented; people told me what to do, and when to do it. I knew I wouldn't be able to handle much on my own. The doc said he was glad I was aware of the difficulties I was facing, and because of that he knew I'd be OK. And that was it. But I really had no idea what things would look like after I was home.It wasn't until my Dad died several years later, that I officially recognized my depression. It was if I was simply doing what it was I had to do to make it through the day. Making it till the next day, when I would start again. But, I finally asked for help, and our family doctor in Boise put me on an antidepressant. I was good for several years but then it happened.
People who have not suffered from severe depression, have no idea what it feels like. I know I didn't. I thought I knew depression, and had beaten it (with the help of my meds.) But, boy was I mistaken. Recently, I suffered a huge set back in the mood area of my life. I could not pinpoint the catalyst, but I sunk deeper than an anchor in Flathead lake. My tears fell freely, for seemingly no reason. A general ache took me over, and I experienced feelings I never had. They were feelings no one should ever have. I hurt all over, and saw nothing within reach to help me pull myself from the ditch I envisioned myself lying face down in.
I saw my family physician, who put me on a mood stabilizer, and I also saw a counselor, thanks to my sister. Although the counselor had worked at this for years, to me her home page on the web introduced the practice as what I would describe as new age. I didn't know what Aikido, or an International Peace Dojo was, but I liked the idea of the practical wisdom they spoke of. And I had embraced Buddhism (at least half hearted,) so I figured this was my chance to put it into practice.
An appointment was made, and her office was warm and inviting; begging anyone who entered to relax. I was relieved to realize she was not going to mess with my meds, because my mood drug was certainly helping. I asked her about it, and she said Of course you should continue! It's making you feel better, right? That 1st week, I even took part in a formal group meditation, and came away feeling simply cleansed. Yes, it was difficult to stick with the silent stillness, but I was successful, and darned proud of myself. (If you have always thought about meditating, but never really got it, try the group thing!) And no, I didn't sit crisscross applesauce, although that was available. After I tried it, for about 3 1/2 minutes, I realized that was not an option for this physically compromised, head injured gal, and I moved to a folding chair.
The bottom line is, or at the end of the day, or best yet, in conclusion, I'd like to let those who care about me, or those who just wonder what's up, know that I'm good. Mental illness has a stigma, for sure, and I know that because of my TBI, it's far easier for me to talk about such things. Maybe that's because I have less of a filter than others, or maybe I think there are those out there who believe because of my TBI, I'm already mentally challenged. For whatever reason, let me say, Let's not be silent. There are people in pain, that can be helped.
