Posts Tagged ‘depressed’

Today is my birthday but I really see nothing to celebrate. I feel right now, as if my whole life is a failure. The family I always wanted to have does not exist, my relationship is unsatisfaying to say the least and career wise… ouf, let’s not even talk about it. I’m 32 years old. To many that seems like I have a lot of years ahead of me, but I don’t know if it’s the depression talking but I see those 32 years as wasted. Years learning lessons if we want to see it in a positive light but with all these life lessons, you would think my life would feel a little bit more fulfilling.

Sorry, depressing a bit today but that’s how I feel. Nostalgic of how life could have been. Depressed with how much work is needed to make it better… I just can’t wait for this day to be over so I can go on with my boring, daily routines. When I’m doing laudry or cooking supper, I at least feel like I serve a purpose in this life. Today, if I try to look at my life, I see nothing good…

I’m trying to see the good side of life. I’m trying to see that life is worthwhile. That I’m a lucky person because I’m breathing, I have enough to eat and drink and I have people around me who love me.

What is most difficult is to let go of illusions. Accepting life the way it is. Accepting that your life is not so bad. Appreciate what you have and not long for what you don’t have.

Like they say: when you are handed lemons, make lemonade.

I just hope that we get used to the bitter taste of lemonade made with just water and lemons… cause without sugar…

I’m at a point in my life where I need to rethink everything. As a young woman, I had dreams, like everybody else. To me, life was simple. I grew up never feeling like I really had a home or a family. It hurts my mother deeply when I say this. She worked as hard as she could to create a home for us. But to me it wasn’t enough. She met a wonderful man and he filled in a place my dad never wanted to fill. But he wasn’t my dad. The one who was supposed to love me unconditionnally did not. I spent my whole teenage life longing for something else. For a family of my own. I knew I would love my kids unconditionally. I wanted to find a dad that would love them just the same. I wanted to find a man who would never leave, me or his kids.  Career wise, I did not care about fame and fortune. I wanted to find a fulfilling job. One that would give me enough money to live and enough time to devote to my family.

Things just didn’t turn out this way. I was blinded by wanting this family, so much so that I forgot to choose carefully. I recreated for my daughter a situation just as bad as the one I went through. Her dad took off when I was pregnant.  She feels left out, just like I did … and still do. I tried, like my mother did, to make up for this. I tried to be extremely present. But it wasn’t it. I had nobody to share the joy and the pain with. I was surviving. Struggling. I found a job that was exactly what I had planned. It gave me enough money to put food on the table and enough time to be present. But that’s all I had. No one loved me and my daughter enough… something was missing.

This time, I found a man who embodies everything that I should have looked for in the first place. But I’m just too late. The dream I had of a family, he has had already. Even though his family is broken, it satisfies him. It’s not what he is looking for anymore. The sadness I feel right now is immense. I feel lost. Completely and uterly lost. I will never be the type of mother and wife I wanted to be. I would need to focus on a career that fulfills me, but I just don’t care about that. I don’t want to value myself by how much money I make . I don’t want to wait for a boss to tell me I’m doing a good job. I want to feel it every day because my daughter is happy. Because my husband comes home every day. Because my newborn baby looks up at me and needs me.

I was heartbroken when everything fell apart with my ex. But never as much as I am right now. I still had hopes back then. I still thought that a family was possible. I know that what I have is a sort of family. But it will never be it. When my daughter graduates from universtity, I will be the only one with that immense sense of pride.  Yes, my man will feel happy for her, but never the way he will feel when his own son will graduate. We will both be grandparents, but separately. He will share his joys with his ex, the mother of his child. The one he lived the birth of his son with. They will share this feeling. They will know exactly how the other person feels. I will never have that. My daughter will never have real sibblings. She will never share that bond with anybody else. His son will, he already has a brother, a real one.

I know I should not place those barriers. Stepfamilies work out all the time. To my man, his failure came at the end of his marriage. Mine is happening every day. I will never get my second chance. It is just too late. My life will consist of doing my best for my daughter and being the best stepmom I can be. To love my man as much as I can. But I will never be content. Every day is just another day.  I don’t look forward to anything. I just live because I’m still breathing….

This entry really made me think. When do I actually know I’ve recovered and what does it mean exactl? I’ve been struggling with depression for a few months now and things are looking up, but I don’t know if I’ve recovered. I really don’t know what it means and when I’ll know it’s over. I’ve started thinking that maybe recovery is not something I should look for but rather, depression is part of who I am and that trying to have a better life is more of a life mission than a cure.

From Depression Through Recovery to Life as Creative Experience

I think of recovery as a slow process of change that aims at replacing depression with a new responsiveness to life. A key part of it for me has been deciding that I would not think of myself as always in recovery. Recovery would be the method for getting back to life. As Mary Parker Follett put it, the essence of life is creative experience – the constant interplay between the best we can put into life and all that it gives back to enrich who we are. I couldn’t imagine getting to that point if I thought of recovery as it’s defined in the prevailing medical model.

According to this model, a condition like major depression continues through life, though possibly “in remission.” Recovery means reducing the impact of the illness on daily living through ongoing treatment using medication and therapy. For me that would mean living the rest of my life with major depression, but its symptoms would be managed effectively. As I’ve written before, this sort of recovery is not for me. It’s a way of crippling expectations about my life – much the way depression itself does.

Perpetual recovery is not my goal, but recovery is nevertheless an essential step in restarting life.

I think of the process I’ve been through in terms of three separate types of awareness: the deadly stillness of depression, the reawakening of recovery and the creative experience of life itself.

Read more: http://www.storiedmind.com/2009/12/12/depression-recovery-life/comment-page-1/#comment-7069

I haven’t been able to write for the last couple of days. Any topic just depresses me. Everything seems so difficult. I’m wondering right now, how much can one person take. I see and hear about people who have gone through really, truly horrific things in their lives and they seem to be able to get over it. In my case, nothing horrific is going on but just a series of little crappy events that bring me down every time.

Finances, kids, family, relationship troubles… it just never seems to end. I feel as though my entire body is on automatic pilot. Still functionning but no one know how it’s even possible. It’s like the power is off but the tv is still on and nobody can figure it out. My life is like a series of failures, one after another and no matter how hard I try, everything comes back to a failure. Once one issue seems to be better, something else shows up and I just can’t deal with it. I don’t know how to get out of this. I don’t know how to make anything better. I don’t know where to start. I just keep on going for the sake of my daughter.

Right now my days are mostly sleep. For so long I have been unable to find sleep and now that I can, I seem to sleep all the time. It’s as if I want to sleep long enough for the days to go by. I want to my days to have the least hours possible. This way nothing new can fall on my head. Nothing else will be able to happen in that short amount of time. Yet, it still does.

Nothing I do is good enough for anyone. I work my but off but the bank thinks I’m not good enough. I bust my butt at home to make sure everybody has what they need, that our home is welcoming, that everybody feels taken care of and it’s still not enough… nothing I do is ever enough. Yet I keep on doing all of that. I just don’t know how to keep going anymore. This situation is not killing me, it has killed me. It has killed my spirit. I don’t even know how or what I am anymore. I don’t know how to go on…

Queen Victoria was reported to suffer from depression for over 40 years after the death of her husband Prince Albert.

Winston Churchill suffered from bouts of depression and was extremely sensitive to stress.

Edgar Allan Poe suffered from bipolar depression. So was Vincent Van Gogh.

Sylvia Plath also suffered a major depression in her life.

People still don’t understand what depression is like. Don’t they watch the news? Aren’t we all shocked when someone famous commits suicide? They seemed happy, they had money and fame and yet they were hiding the painful truth: things are tough and nobody noticed! I’m not saying this is the case of this lady. She may be using the system to her advantage. We won’t really know. Only she does, and her doctor and maybe, if she’s lucky, her family and friends. It just goes to show that having depression is still something people don’t get. It’s still something you have to prove to everyone.

I have days where I’m happy. Days where I can do my grocery shopping. Does that mean I’m reading to go back to teaching full time? Am I the best person to take care of 180 teenagers? I truly doubt it. Half the time I fell like I’m not taking care of the people around me, let alone myself. Scary Scary… But does that mean I have to write that I’m depressed on my Facebook page every day? Does it mean I have to take pictures of myself when I can’t sleep, eat or function? When I hit rock bottom, should I ask for help or should I post pictures of it online to prove myself?

so frustrating!

Read on to find out what I’m talking about:

http://psychcentral.com/blog/archives/2009/11/20/woman-loses-sick-leave-benefits-for-depression-thanks-to-facebook-pics/

I’ve always been a passionate person. Whether it be for my job, for a hobby or in a relationship. I start out so passionate and so intense. If you hire me, I’m your best salesperson. The problem is, that passion fades… Then I become bored.

I’ve been wondering how to change this. I want to learn to enjoy life’s daily little pleasures and not just long for intensity. I’ve always felt the happiest when things are intense. I’ve longed for big shows of affection. I’m satisfied in relationships when the other person is demonstrative, intensely demonstrative. When I get sent hugh bouquet of flowers. When he grabs me and dances in a restaurant in front of everyone. To me these big gestures meant love. I’m learning that this might not be the case. Love may be the person who stands by you, even when you’re annoying. But I still long for those intense moments.

With others, I’m the same way. I look for those huge compliments at work. I look for huge recognition from students and employers. I’m at my happiest in huge moments like Christmas and birthdays. I’m at my happiest when I’m the host of the party and I feel appreciated. But these moments are not only scarce, they are often not the way I want them to be.

This Christmas will be the saddest I’ve ever had. Finding the strength to still see the excitement in it is so difficult. I long for that day to be happy but I just don’t know what that is anymore. I feel passion for nothing anymore. I feel like passion is what is hurting me and I don’t want to feel passionate anymore. I just don’t know how to go from this intense, passionate personality to the person who accepts life, accepts what she cannot change and can still find ways to enjoy life. I just don’t know how to become that person…

Here are a few more tips I found helpful… or just plain ridiculous from this book I am finishing.

Tip #15: Anti-Depression Menus

I don’t know if this one actually works but apparently, there are some foods that can actually help. Among them are fish, rice, duck and beets. They apparently boost some type of hormone and help you sleep and be in a good mood.

Other foods help boost the dopamine in your system which also helps with depression. These foods include eggs, turkey, seafoods and milk product… I’m not too sure about that one. I eat eggs, turkey and milf product on a regular basis and it has not helped so far!

The book also says that you should be attentive to the presentation of the food which will help boost your moral… I just don’t see how somebody who is depressed actually has the time to be attentive to the presentation of the food but…

Tip #16: Change your decor

That one I actually like. When you are sitting in your home, depressed, changing just one picture or adding a little decoration here or there makes you feel a little better. I’m not sure depressed people will have the energy to repaint a room but adding a little something new can be easy. It may be a good tip for people who want to help people with depression. Bring them a new picture frame or a flower in a new vase to cheer up the room. Often, when we are depressed, we tend to close the blinds, stay on the couch etc. Maybe that can be something that helps…

Tip #17: Exercise

That one makes a lot of sense and everybody keeps telling me, even therapists! But how do you exercise when you have no energy and you don’t sleep. I’d love to have the energy to go jogging or train with weights and have a great body but I just don’t. For now, I am focussing on walking everyday to pick up my daughter at school. It’s a 20-30 minutes walk. I don’t think it’s actual exercise since I am walking with a 7 year old and not walking very fast but it’s at least something that gets me off the couch and moving!

I’ve also tried yoga and it’s great. I just don’t feel like actually doing it most of the time. I tape it on tv because I can’t afford anything else… I’ve also thought about going swimming, which I enjoy… but the problem with all these activities is everything that is needed to get there. To go swimming, I need to change, drive to the pool, pay, get undressed and jump in the pool, by myself… then I need to get changed again and drive back home. All of this is exhausting!!!  I just end up saying… FORGET IT!

I’ll end with this last tip:

Tip #18: Take some time for yourself.

Now that one I really hate! I’m so tired of people saying that to me. What does that mean! With all the stuff I have to do for others, there is almost no time left for myself. The only time left I have right now is due to the fact that I’m home from work. I just don’t get that one. They do mention that we should take at least 15 minutes a day where we shut everything off and just relax. That one I’ll try. Especially before the kids come home from school. I’ll try shutting off the music or tv and just sitting… I’m just afraid of all the thoughts that will come to my mind… but hey, I have to try something no?

More tips to come this week as a continue reading the book!

The toughest thing right now in trying to find help is to repeat my story each and every time! Last year I used up the 4 sessions my employer offered and told my story. By the time I was done, the sessions were over. Then this year, I decided to try and get help and use those 4 sessions again… and it was the same story. I had to stop because it was too expensive to continue. I then gave my name at this free clinic and after a few weeks, they called. On the phone, I was asked to tell my story and then I met with a therapist and told my story again. I had to tell my story to my doctor and then tell it again to my employer’s doctor. Now this doctor wants me to see another doctor and the same things will happen again. I’m so tired of telling my story but never actually benefiting from it. Never actually getting help.

I raised my daughter on my own, went back to school and finished my degree. I had to deal with a very tight budget and work part-time as well. When I finally finished my studies I was elated. Finally, life was going to be easier. I found a teaching job at a private college and worked hours and hours. Between work and taking care of my daughter, there was not time for any other kind of life. But I kept on going. I registered for more classes so that my paycheck could increase due to my scholarity. I found part-time work. Tutored children and worked for a publishing company. I longed for another kind of life but still kept on going. I would spend my evenings alone, crying, sometimes drinking too much.

When I met men, there was always something with me or the fact that I had a daughter that made them leave. One of them, with whom I thought I was actually starting a relationship actually said to me that he wished ” he could meet someone like me, but with no kids” and I realised I was not the one, once again. My relationship with my dad, my mom and my brother had ups and downs. Everything seemed difficult. Work was getting harder and I was so tired. I thought of going to my doctor’s and asking for help but then, an opportunity opened up. I was asked to participate in a publishing project that meant a year off from work, working from home. That was just what I needed.

I enjoyed those first few months at home. My daughter came home from school for lunch and we actually had time together. But the checks were just not coming in and I had to find a part-time job to pay the bills. Things were not so bad, because I had met an incredible guy.

So here it is, here’s my story. Maybe next time I can tell them to go read this blog and call me back when they know what to do!

My parents divorced when I was 10 years old. The divorce had a big impact on me and I think I’m still not over the effects. My teenage years were a succession of ups and downs. Fighting with my mother and father, crying, feeling bad about myself and getting myself into all sorts of trouble. Mostly relationship trouble. Every guy I met either treated me like crap, cheated on me, or simply even refuse to tell others they were involved with me. And I let them. I went to college, worked part time from the age of 15 while going to school and met more men who I let treat me like crap. I was even in love with a married man for a while… and he picked another mistress, not even his wife!

Then I moved on to university. I moved at as early as I could. I wanted to have a home so badly. But that first home was a series of fights with roomates and partying way too much. Lots of saddness and grief over failed relationships. I also worked part-time during my studies and at some point my body gave out. I had mononucelosis and had to move back home to rest. I quick school and went to work full time.

That’s when I met my daughter’s father. It was a bad relationship from the start. He was still involved with his ex and other girls and I went on accepting this, hoping it would change. Hoping he would pick me and things would be better after that. Our arguments were always loud and awful. It turned first to verbal violence and then to physical violence. And I accepted this. I let it happen. I then got pregnant with my daughter, all this while working at a really bad job that I hated where my boss was also verbally and even, in the end, physically abusive to me. The relationship ended when my ex got violent with me while I was pregnant. That seemed to give me the push I needed to leave. I wanted to protect my child. She was more important than anything. But yet, I never did it for myself, again for somebody else.

I moved out and raised my daughter on my own. I decided to go back to school to finish my studies so that we would have a better quality of life. I went to school, worked part-time as a tutor and as a replacement teacher. I was tired but I kept on going because things would be easier soon. Budgeting was a big things because money was really tight, but it would get better. When I finished my studies, I found a job working at a private college and I thought I was finally going to have a great life. I worked hard at this job and between taking care of my daughter and working, there wasn’t much time top to sit around and feel sorry for myself.

Things with my dad, my mom and my brother were up and downs. We had fights, dissagreements and I even stopped talking to my dad. Money was still tight and found part-time contract to make ends meet. I also kept on with my studies to try and get my salary to increase. Most nights, I would go to bed crying. My poor daughter was stuck with a mother who would lie on the couch for hours, feeling sorry for herself, or an impatient mother who yelled at her. I felt like I was ruining her childhood.

I met some guys but nothing ever seemed to work out. There was always something wrong with me. A lot of them blamed the fact that I had a kid and one guy, who I thought I was moving foward with, even told me that he wished he could find someone like me to be with, but without a kid. Every time, I cried, I was dissapointed and I got over it, getting angry at the unfairness of it all. I thought of going to the doctor’s for help at one point. The job was not what I hoped it would be and I was so tired. But then, I had the opportunity to work from home for the publishing company. My prayers were answered. I would have more time, more freedom!

The first few months were great. I had time to have lunch with my daughter and work in the afternoons. But the checks did not come in as fast as I thought they would. So, I found a part-time job… and that took care of my freedom. During that time, one thing did cheer me up. I went for supper with a guy I had briefly dated years before. We clicked instantly and he was so great. He made me dream of a better life. I was and still am, so in love with him.

But his situation with his ex was complicated. Nothing was clear… He left for New York with her for the weekend, for work and I saw myself in the same pattern as before: being the understanding girlfriend… the one who never gets picked. I tried to get over it and focus on all the great things he brought he my life. He helped me see new things, he was a great father, a great stepfather to my daughter… and we decided to move in together. The project with the publishing company was over and I decided to try and change my workplace to see if that would help me become happier.

It didn’t. Things at home were tense. We fought all the time. Work was so demanding and so, I crashed, litterally. I fell to the floor of the secretary’s office at the school one morning. That’s when I went to the doctor’s. She told me I had something called depression and gave me medication. Since then, I’ve tried to get help but have yet to find it. I’m still looking.

So, in a nutshell, that’s my story!