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I've gone two or three rounds with a threatening bout of depression the last few days. I think I've won.
Depression signals itself for me in intrusive thoughts and memories, mostly of a shameful, horrifying sort. It has all the characteristics of an attack, as of schoolyard bullies who won't stop throwing things at me and calling me names. I cower and quiver within myself as I try to go about my daily life, none of which seems to have any real purpose while I'm under attack.
Depression has a hall-of-mirrors quality, multiplying and monster-ifying itself just by showing up. Depression makes itself worse.
I've done battle for years with this monster, though, and I know its tricks. It alters my perception in completely irrational ways, making what was acceptable yesterday unbearable today, and what was good yesterday tainted today. Refusing to believe its lies (no matter how fucking real they seem) is my first line of defense.
( Repeat after me: It's not reality. It's brain chemistry. )
Today I woke up feeling like myself again, and so far it's holding firm.
People who don't have depression can't imagine how such a small "mood swing" can be so threatening and require so much focused effort. People who do will probably recognize how much of my own life I was lucky enough to save last night.
Depression signals itself for me in intrusive thoughts and memories, mostly of a shameful, horrifying sort. It has all the characteristics of an attack, as of schoolyard bullies who won't stop throwing things at me and calling me names. I cower and quiver within myself as I try to go about my daily life, none of which seems to have any real purpose while I'm under attack.
Depression has a hall-of-mirrors quality, multiplying and monster-ifying itself just by showing up. Depression makes itself worse.
I've done battle for years with this monster, though, and I know its tricks. It alters my perception in completely irrational ways, making what was acceptable yesterday unbearable today, and what was good yesterday tainted today. Refusing to believe its lies (no matter how fucking real they seem) is my first line of defense.
( Repeat after me: It's not reality. It's brain chemistry. )
Today I woke up feeling like myself again, and so far it's holding firm.
People who don't have depression can't imagine how such a small "mood swing" can be so threatening and require so much focused effort. People who do will probably recognize how much of my own life I was lucky enough to save last night.
