Depression is odd. You can be feeling fine, and then, something turns inside, and you begin to sink down. Those in-between-days produce a helpless feeling. You know you're going down, and you still feel kind of good, but you're going down and there's nothing you can do about it.
What I hate is the irritability that comes with depression. I could chew off my mother's head.
Prozac is my medicine of choice. It brings me up to a level where I can function, but I still feel rotten. Prozac never makes me tremendously happy. It has its limits.
After we adopted Tommy from Guatemala, I got a kind of post-adoption depression. I wasn't sleeping well. I was overwhelmed. The baby always had to be fed or changed. The laundry. The dark winter. Thank God for prozac.
My father died of depression. He spend literal years in bed. He also had OCD. Oh, the black nights of sadness.
I can write about depression now because I'm not depressed. I'm not high either. I'm not even hypo-manic.
Mrs. Normal.
That's me.
What's depression like for you?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
I've had depression and OCD most of my life. Deep, dark, suicidal pit I think sums it up. Low-grade in others. Never knowing where I'd be at from one day to the next. Chronic fatigues. But, in the last few years, depression has changed. Sudden shifts of mood, like falling down an elevator shaft. That's when we added and upped the mood stabilizers.
Post a Comment