Depression Talk

Joomy did an interesting post on taking a break this week, one that I read with fervor, because man, I really know what its like to need a frickin’ break.

I don’t know why, but I never feel really, truly good about myself unless I’m busy, busy, busy. I like to have a goal for each day, and I like to achieve it, and if I don’t feel good about the day, I feel as though I haven’t reached my full potential for that day.

I have this terrible habit of finding something to do, and then adding to it, and then adding some more to it just for the hell of it. Good times, all round.

Last fall was perhaps certainly the worst episode with depression I’ve ever had. I spent months desperately trying to pretend like I was happy when I spoke with others or when I wrote on my blog. The guilt that accompanies serious depression is perhaps one of the worst parts of it, for me at least. I always feel that I have everything in my reach to have a complete, happy, and full life: yet, occasionally I fall into the depths of despair and there is nothing that can get me out of it. Nothing.

Perhaps it was the fact that I lost my Grandfather rather traumatically, in a drawn out illness that took him away from us but kept him alive for a long period of time. Perhaps it was that my brother was sent on his third tour of duty in Afghanistan, and that I couldn’t get him or his wife and child out of my mind. Perhaps it was that I lived with someone who I truly felt was going out of her way to make my life miserable, to make my home completely unsanitary and odiferous. Perhaps it was the fact that I was taking six university courses, working twenty hours, drinking alcohol in my spare time, and cut myself off from the world because I didn’t feel that I had the energy to cope with human interaction.

Believe it or not, I somehow managed to not be depressed through my father’s slew of medical tests after a couple scary episodes, through my mother’s diagnosis and treatment for breast cancer, my moving back home, one of my closest friends’ diagnosis with MS, and the final breakup with Dubai Guy. I blame that on drugs. Lots and lots of drugs, the good ones that keep the happiness in my brain floating around being happy.

But I digress. I think one of the most important ways to deal with depression is to recognize your own limits: You need to be able to find that perfect balance between busy enough to keep you from sitting on your couch thinking you’re useless, but not so busy that you lose sight of yourself, your goals, your life, and most importantly, your sanity.