Sickness, Depression and Hope

I’ve had a brutal virus since last Saturday, the primary torture devices being achy muscles and extreme, soul sucking exhaustion.

Jenny Lawson my Bloggess friend has Vital Exhaustion, which sounds similar, at least in the feelings, but VM appears to be the new fangled term for a nervous breakdown.

It may be different, but I can relate to the emotions of feeling hopeless and freaked out this week.

I’ve said it before, I’m a terrible sick person. Within about two or three days of being sick and not getting better, I go into a sort of circumstantial depression.

I know it’s a kind of depression because I’ve been depressed and I know what it feels like- I was diagnosed with MDD, Major Depressive Disorder, a little over a year ago and that’s why I went on that Lexapro that became so horrible to get off of. Good times!

What happens is I become very weak and sensitive, weepy and moany groany, achy and listless. The days seem so long because of the physical torture, a single day of being sick seems to go on for a lifetime. And even though I know it’s wrong, there’ s a part of my fuzzy brain that tells me (play the violins):

1.) I’ll never feel better.

2.) This is probably just how I am, now.

3.) I feel guilty and like a failure in every aspect of my life, especially because even though my child is fine, I can’t enjoy him the way I normally do.

The joy is sucked out of my body as if by a dementor from Harry Potter and I want to weep that my loved ones feel at arms length.

4.) It’s lonely because no one else is inside your body and with a virus, a doctor can’t even give you antibiotics because they won’t do anything and they’ll probably just give you a yeast infection on top of it.

5.) A part of me also knows that since I can’t exercise and the illness makes me comfort eat, I am probably getting fat and losing ground on all of the great healthy habits I’ve been doing such a good job on. Losing ground on all of that hard work!

6.) I’m dying.

7.) Oh did I mention that I’m on my period this week and traveling for a medical trip for my son, too?

Funny story if you can handle talking about periods. This morning my 5 year old Bex walks into the hotel bathroom and yells: “Somebody made the water RED!!!”

Yikes. I peed in the middle of the night in the dark and didn’t want the loud flush of the potty to wake my slumbering family.

Time for a quick Mommy anatomy lesson! I said “Oh that was me…”

Bex: “Are you bleeding? YOU HURT?!”

I quickly explained it was normal, but only happens to grown up ladies. He said “Not boys!” and moved on. Phew.

I’m alive and feeling better today, the light is shining at the end of the tunnel. It may rebound, though, Bex got a bad rebound of the same thing two days ago- fever, dark circles under his eyes- and nearly passed out at a dinosaur museum.

He’s back in business now and so am I, and now- guess who has it, my poor husband feels like he got hit by a bus this morning. We’re on our way to the hospital today to get fitted for Bex’s new scoliosis brace and if I have to take him by myself and let Nick rest, I gladly will.

I wanted to write about feeling blue because I know that when I’m low, it really helps me to hear about other people living through crappy times and surviving it. It makes me feel less alone.

 The Bloggess has some great links to articles about depression on her last Sunday’s post, at the end of one of them I found this link to a letter written to a fan from Stephen Fry It Will Be Sunny One Day – it’s awesome.

I’m re-posting these words in case it can help anyone else.

From Fry:

“Here are some obvious things about the weather:
It’s real.
You can’t change it by wishing it away.
If it’s dark and rainy it really is dark and rainy and you can’t alter it.
It might be dark and rainy for two weeks in a row.
BUT
It will be sunny one day.
It isn’t under one’s control as to when the sun comes out, but come out it will.
One day.

It really is the same with one’s moods, I think. The wrong approach is to believe that they are illusions. They are real. Depression, anxiety, listlessness — these are as real as the weather — AND EQUALLY NOT UNDER ONE’S CONTROL. Not one’s fault.

BUT

They will pass: they really will.”

Thank you Jenny, as always, you help so many people when you share your struggles, including me. Depression, like alcoholism, should have no stigma attached to it, we can’t afford that- depression kills such beautiful, extraordinary people every day.

Like alcoholism, it lies to you that the world may just be better off without you. Don’t believe its lies. By talking about it out in the open we can hold each other up.

“Here comes the sun…la la la la…”

Love,

~ Heidi