Posts Tagged ‘medication and depression’

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

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/

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!

I find this question very difficult. Medication has helped me so far in recovering sleep. Other than that, I’m not quite sure what the effect is. I’m also a little at a loss because I don’t quite understand where depression comes from. I’m not quite sure the medical community knows either. It’s genetic or not, related to fast food or social circumstances? I found this article this morning where the author argues that medication is not the only answer. I totally agree with him. What makes everything difficult though, is not only finding the right therapist to fix your issues but actually finding the money to pay the said therapist…