Depression Dave

On Monday, a man I have always loved committed suicide.  While I never met him in person, Robin Williams seemed like a friend.  I saw him (as characters on TV and in movies) more often than I would see some friends and relatives.  He made me laugh - a lot.  I remember one depressive episode where Mrs. Doubtfire was the only movie that could make me smile.  I included lyrics from "Friend Like Me" in my vows when Dan and I renewed them in June.  Robin Williams was always around and could always cheer me up.  

And now he's gone.  He took his own life, and that reminds me that on occasion, I think about taking my life.

Someone else's horrible depression can trigger thoughts of my own depression.  Who thought that would be fair?  One cancer patient talking to another cancer patient doesn't make either cancer worse.  In fact, it's probably almost always cathartic.  Now, talking about my depression to people who really understand depression can be very cathartic, but it can also be horrible and, well, depressing.  

I am depressed.  

I don't know what to do about it.  

I feel like I'm drowning.

The last couple months have been a roller coaster for my husband and I.  My health has been up and down, and then down and down and down and maybe it's almost coming up again?  We've been busy.  We've moved, are trying to sell a condo and construction on our new house begins soon.   I've been completely crazy at times. The prednisone is mostly to blame for that, and I made some mistakes because of the highs and lows that come with taking prednisone.  I made some mistakes that caused a "parting of ways" with some friends, and parting ways with those people completely devastated me.  My eye is twitching thinking about it and I can't talk about it.  

I am depressed.  I keep thinking it's mainly related to current stress and recent events and that I'll pull through it soon.  So I keep waiting.  I'm also waiting because I don't know what to do if it doesn't go away.  I don't just have depression.  I have anxiety that is completely like quicksand - it sucks me in and keeps pulling and I can't get out.  The more I try to escape the worse it gets.  I can't escape it.  I am anxious about almost everything.  Right now I am anxious because I'm thinking about depression and anxiety.  I am anxious because my depression is bad and I might need more medication, but I'm already on a really high dose of anti-depressant, and I think my brain is too broken to fix.  

I am anxious because my brain is telling me that I will always be depressed and my life will just suck.  Even the best times will suck a little because depression will always be there.  I might as well give my depression a name - like, Dave - and just accept the fact that Dave lives in my brain and always will.  Maybe I'll try to make friends with Dave and Dave will become more of an acquaintance that you pass in the hall and say "Hi" to and then ignore the rest of the time, instead of being that constant nosy upstairs neighbor who is always judging you and making a ton of noise in the middle of the night and ruining everything including your sleep pattern. 

I wish I could move.  I wish I could move away and no longer have Dave living upstairs.  He follows me everywhere, telling me how horrible I am and how I screw everything up. He lies to me - tells me things I know aren't true and convinces me they might be true.  He makes me second guess myself and the people around me who tell me they love me and that things will get better.   Dave is the worst.  I HATE YOU DAVE! GO AWAY!

Depression sucks and I'm mad as hell about it.  I want to fight it - not just my depression, but help everyone else who is suffering fight, too.  And then Depression Dave tells me that I won't succeed and I should just go back to bed... so maybe I'll sew, or play a video game to distract myself for now.  Because at least when I'm doing those things I'm not thinking about my depression.  I'm at least just numb instead of incredibly sad. 

And that's how I feel about my depression today.