The depression started when I was 11. In the evening, it was the worst. I would quietly cry, knowing that bedtime was soon. The smiling, galloping people on the television screen would grind the pain deeper. I wished I would gallop like they did. Laughing and smiling. But instead, the oil filled me. Like a fog, it rolled in slowly. It would start with just a twinge of pain, and slowly over the course of the day, the fog would become thicker and thicker. My daily school agenda would be full of down arrows. Sad faces. The fog grew darker and more complex as I got older. I would tread water in an ocean of guilt and shame. I would wish that I could disappear out of thin air. My will to live would escape me. If I were an infant, I would die for "failure to thrive". And thrive, I did not.
My dreams fell away. My hope floated away. My ambitions became pointless. My success meaningless. I had no one. I had nothing. I was alone. The days become endless repetition with pointless tasks. The light at the end of the tunnel had been turned off. I don't want to see tomorrow, or the next day. All I want to do is sleep for a thousand years. Sleep is the only reprieve. Twelve to fifteen hours a night of sweet sleep. Once I drag my heavy body out of bed, I would force myself to shower so my outward appearance didn't match my inside emotions. Standing under the shower head, I would daydream about dismantling a shaving razor and cutting my thighs, slicing them over and over.
The shame would run ferociously through every canal of my mind. Shame for not being happy. Shame for not being a good mom. Shame for my husband having to deal with me. Shame for feeling shame.
Along side shame, guilt would flow with force. Guilt for being a burden. Guilt for occupying valuable space. Guilt for dragging everyone into my mental mess. Guilt for feeling guilty.
The day would grow into the night and again, I would see the happy people on TV. Each tv commercial brought smiles and fields of joy. Now however, I go to bed early knowing that the sweet relief of sleep will release the pressure of the pain. If only that sleep would last forever.
The depression comes in waves and always has. It lasts for weeks at a time, anywhere from 2 to 6. The fact that there is a time limit has always brought me comfort. Knowing that it will end at some point, "this too, shall pass", has always been a comfort. No matter how bad it gets, it will suddenly stop one day. The fog will lift. I will feel it in my toes first, then my heart. I will feel normal. The weight of the world will melt away and I will feel ok.
Every now and then however, I will have a feeling of butterflies fluttering around in my body. What I used to joke about as "intermittent ADHD". Sometimes, I will become irritable with everything around me. The ceiling fan clicks too loud. The leaf blower in the neighborhood makes me want to scream. I pull my wind chimes down. I can't take the sounds of the world.
Other times, the butterflies are full of ENERGY. I clean and organize and cook and craft and plan and create and believe and dream and I CAN FLY. I will write a book! I will start a business! I will become a lawyer! I will be an artist! I am a genius! I know the meaning of life. I know the purpose of the world. I can feel God, he is right there. I am SO HAPPY. Sleep? Who needs sleep! There is too much to do, too much to accomplish! I will volunteer and commit and plan and promise. I will pack my schedule with events and appointments and I will survive on small bites of food.
I make eye contact with everyone I walk past because I know they all want me to. They all want to talk to me, who wouldn't? A professor, coworker, supervisor, friend or neighbor is secretly in love with me. I move to the front of the class, become full of ideas that will REVOLUTIONIZE the company. I sign up to be a troop leader for Girl Scouts with the intent of revolutionizing the entire American organization of Girl Scouts. I.WILL.SUCCEED. I am a genius. I am brilliant.
I wear flowing skirts and flowers in my hair and know the men will ogle me. I wave to my neighbors that I've never talked to before, I socialize with anyone that approaches me. I am funny. Pleasant. Optimistic. Unstoppable.
And then, the drain is pulled. The curtains are drawn. My energy flows away. My obsessions are stopped. My plans are abandoned. I stop attending school. I call in "with car trouble" at work. I pull the blankets over my head and I dream about sleeping forever and never waking up. The familiar fog rolls in again.
Up and down. Off and on. Over and over and over and over, forever and ever, amen.
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