The last 7 years of my life, have been beyond turbulent. I would venture to say it has been one of the second hardest times in my life, especially, where my mental health was concerned. I struggled mentally and emotionally through all of it. There were many causes, and I contributed personally to the chaos in many ways. At the time, because I was surrounded in darkness, I saw things from a very narrow perspective. Now, however, I have some distance and a better perspective on things.
The other day, while trying to help my husband understand some of his own struggles, I had a light bulb moment about the counseling I was receiving at the time. The counselor I was working with, worked with a lot of people much sicker than I was. People who were less educated, through no fault of their own, about their mental illnesses, and in some cases people who where not able to comprehend the full impact of their illnesses. She was used to trying to educate them, help them accept what their diagnosis meant, and help them to find ways to just cope, in the best way they could. My counselor tried to help me understand what was going on with me and how hard depression could be to deal with. She tried to make me feel OK about where I was. She wanted me to know it was ok to need help. It was ok to just get through the day, with major depression some times that truly IS all you can do. She was right about that. The trouble was, that she kept telling me how sick I was and that being that sick was fine and I needed to accept it. So much so, that I began to believe that's all I was capable of. I did accept it. I stopped fighting to be more. My counselor, was helping me in the way she thought was best given my situation, but in the end, I used it as a way to enable myself to just be sick, and believe that I was less capable, weak and beaten down. I was letting my illness defeat me.
Anyone who battles depression, knows that it IS a battle. A life long, fight full of ups and downs, and many little struggles and battles within the larger fight to be "ok". Once you STOP fighting,all that is left is to let the disease devour you. You no longer become you, you become depression, and depression takes over your life. We all stop fighting in spits and spurts. After all, a life time of fighting this illness that so many people don't think is "that bad", an illness that messes with your mind, an illness that in and of itself, makes you feel like you are not worth fighting for, fighting that is nothing short of exhausting. Ahhh, but that is where depression hits you the hardest. Instead of feeling relieved and better, the less you fight the worse you feel, and the harder life becomes. So the minute I accepted, that I was too depressed, too sick to stand on my own two feet, the minute I created 20 more problems for myself, problems I saw no solutions for. This doesn't mean my counselor wasn't right about how sick I was at the time, or how hard it was to function. But it kept me from fighting to be something more.
Eventually, I could not take any more. I was failing over and over. I was miserable, my child was miserable, and my friends and family were worried. until I snapped and decided NO MORE! I need to fight. I need to fight hard, and right now! And, instantly, I saw that it wasn't true. I am NOT too sick, I am NOT stuck, I am WAY stronger than I allowed myself to be. I am WAY more resilient, and I am now even more aware that it is WAY too important to keep fighting my depression.
The other day, while trying to help my husband understand some of his own struggles, I had a light bulb moment about the counseling I was receiving at the time. The counselor I was working with, worked with a lot of people much sicker than I was. People who were less educated, through no fault of their own, about their mental illnesses, and in some cases people who where not able to comprehend the full impact of their illnesses. She was used to trying to educate them, help them accept what their diagnosis meant, and help them to find ways to just cope, in the best way they could. My counselor tried to help me understand what was going on with me and how hard depression could be to deal with. She tried to make me feel OK about where I was. She wanted me to know it was ok to need help. It was ok to just get through the day, with major depression some times that truly IS all you can do. She was right about that. The trouble was, that she kept telling me how sick I was and that being that sick was fine and I needed to accept it. So much so, that I began to believe that's all I was capable of. I did accept it. I stopped fighting to be more. My counselor, was helping me in the way she thought was best given my situation, but in the end, I used it as a way to enable myself to just be sick, and believe that I was less capable, weak and beaten down. I was letting my illness defeat me.
Anyone who battles depression, knows that it IS a battle. A life long, fight full of ups and downs, and many little struggles and battles within the larger fight to be "ok". Once you STOP fighting,all that is left is to let the disease devour you. You no longer become you, you become depression, and depression takes over your life. We all stop fighting in spits and spurts. After all, a life time of fighting this illness that so many people don't think is "that bad", an illness that messes with your mind, an illness that in and of itself, makes you feel like you are not worth fighting for, fighting that is nothing short of exhausting. Ahhh, but that is where depression hits you the hardest. Instead of feeling relieved and better, the less you fight the worse you feel, and the harder life becomes. So the minute I accepted, that I was too depressed, too sick to stand on my own two feet, the minute I created 20 more problems for myself, problems I saw no solutions for. This doesn't mean my counselor wasn't right about how sick I was at the time, or how hard it was to function. But it kept me from fighting to be something more.
Eventually, I could not take any more. I was failing over and over. I was miserable, my child was miserable, and my friends and family were worried. until I snapped and decided NO MORE! I need to fight. I need to fight hard, and right now! And, instantly, I saw that it wasn't true. I am NOT too sick, I am NOT stuck, I am WAY stronger than I allowed myself to be. I am WAY more resilient, and I am now even more aware that it is WAY too important to keep fighting my depression.
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