I Wanted to Share This

Just a poem I wrote last night, about the experience and the process and the wonder that goes into getting to know a new friend.

To you, I am

An open, unread book

Whose pages you leaf through

In quiet moments

Noticing plot lines,

And committing certain passages to memory

To me, you are

And earnest, avid reader

And I worry

About what you may think

And what you may learn

And what you finally decide

Together

We are two parts of the same story

An ongoing time-line

Of a work in progress,

As yet untitled.

Just for Clarification Purposes..

I'll warn you right now.  You may not like the tone of this post.  You may think I"m talking down or being condescendng.   I promise you, that's not it at all. I'm just wanting to help people understand what having a mental illness is about.  I hope it helps, at least, to make me seem a little more human, a little less scary, and that you'll be willing to give me a chance.
That said  I just want you to know that I am not-

-a bitch
-a sympathy whore
-taking out things on you
-feeling sorry for myself

I suffer from, and live with  DEPRESSION.   Depression is-
-a chemical imbalance in one's brain
-an actual medical condition
-for the most part treatable
-a major life complication and pain in my fat ass.

Depression is NOT-
-'all in my head'
-'something I can 'snap out of'
-a cry for attention


Everyone's depression is different. I've lived with mine since I was fifteen, which means in October I'll have dealth with this for thirty-five years.( I'm thinking of baking it a cake)  Sometimes, mine  is combined with anxiety, which makes getting things done that involve leaving the house during the course of a day, for lack of a better word, interesting, BUT-
-I can tell you the number of tiles in my living room ceiling (about 110)
-I call tell you the number of steps from the couch to the bathroom (45)
-I basically know the results of most lie detector and DNA tests before Maury tells me. (It's a gift)

When the depression is bad, it's like a living thing, a black cloud over my head, an elephant sitting on my chest, a noose around my neck.
It makes me grumpy.  It makes me snap and scream and swear at the people I love the most in this world.  It makes me think no one loves me.  It's pushed some people away permanently, and that breaks my heart.  It makes me believe that I'm worthless, that no one loves me, that I'll never be anything worthwhile.

HOWEVER-
There is a good side.   Of course this good side happens when I diligent about my self care, when I see my therapist regularly, and when, I allow myself to believe that better living through chemistry, in other words, taking the prescribed meds, and taking them as prescribed can help.
Then, depression is a motivator. As a writer I suppose I can describe it as a protagonist to my antagonist, a rival, a challenge.  It's a reminder of what I no longer want to be, how I no longer want to act.    It fuels my writing.   It gives me an outlet for my stories and poems.
And, when I have I good day, or I can look back and recognize that I'm no longer doing something that used to hurt me or make things worse, it's a marker for how far I've come.

In all likelihood,  I'll always have this.   Then again, if I didn't, I wouldn't be exactly who I am
-a writer
-a loyal and sympathetic friend
-an excellent listener
-a strong,( and according to some people), brave, intelligent woman with a lot to offer the world

And that would be a shame.  So, in a strange way, I'm grateful for my depression.  Most days, anyway.

I didn't want to write this, but in the interest of everything, it needed to be said.

  This has been a long, stressful, week, and at the end of it, the verdict is this. Guys, I'm sick.  There's no easy way to say it.  After three months, my diabetes isn't where the doctor would  like it to be, even though my A1C is going down, so they're upping my meds, adding a new one to the mix, and ordering a battery of blood tests for me.   Checking my thyroid, my lipids, all sorts of fun stuff.  Because there's something definitely wrong with me, and after self medicating and ignoring it for months, I need to get things checked out.   I hope it's nothing too serious, and in all likelihood, they'll probably tell me I'm anemic on top of everything else.   This'll sound strange, but I hope they do find out that part of why I've been feeling so crappy lately is physical, and easily fixed.
The meds I'm on now make me tired, nauseous, and headachy.  I don't know what the new ones will do.  As they're for my diabetes, I HAVE to take them.  I've cut out much of the crap I used to eat, but still need to learn to eat better.   I have an appointment for the nutritionist next month and I"m going to start regular classes with her.   At the dentist, I found out I'm going to most probably have all my teeth out and get dentures, top and bottom.  This whole process will take about four months.  Joy.

After enduring three months of crying at least five times every day, and feeling basically miserable, I went back to the psychiatrist, who said to me, "You sound depressed".  REALLY?   Seriously, he's a good guy, and frustrated that almost every drug he's tried me on has failed.  So, this is my last shot.
http://www.emsam.com/
He's starting me on a low dose, then, if that doesn't do it, he'll give me more, meaning more side effects, less things I can eat....oh, this trial and error stuff is so much fun.  If that doesn't work, the only other alternative is ECT.(Electro shock therapy) that scares the crap out of me.  Or, I learn to live with and manage the depression better.  Also, pretty scary.
  So, what does this all mean?  I'm not sure.  Until I adjust to all the changes, it's likely I'll be more tired, more stressed, more worried.  I may not be around much, I may be around more.
I'll probably be weepy, and needy sometimes, not my usual sarcastic self.
I want to stay positive.  I do.   But as  you all know, that's not something that comes easy for me.
I need you guys very much right now.
And here's what I mean by that.
Be patient with me.
Bear with me when I'm sad, or frustrated, or don't feel like talking, or even listening some times. Or if I talk your ear off and call you and cry. Bear with me if I text or tweet you 20 times a day(it's highly doubtful this will happen, but on the off chance it does...be patient.) If I happen to bite your head off, or be impatient, forgive me.
If you pray, pray.  If you don't, send good thoughts.
If you're so inclined, tell me good things about myself.  Tell me I"ll get through this, as I've gotten through everything.
Practically, I know this isn't the end of the world.  Practically, I know things could be a zillion times worse.
However, living alone, and dealing with all of this, is, at the moment, weighing really heavy on me.
You guys have always been there for me already, and I love you all for it.  I'm just letting you know, the next few months are going to be...well, maybe a little more interesting than usual.
But I'm still me.  And hopefully, I'll be a better me soon.
Thanks for reading.  <3 p="">