My other invisible illness

The illness I live with is Depression.

I was diagnosed with it about 1999.

But I had symptoms probably my entire life... at least since my teen years. It is heredity in my family.

The biggest adjustment I had to make at the time of my diagnosis was wrapping my mind around having to take the medication every day. My antidepressant was the first maintenance medication I ever had to take.

Most people assume that I'm fine. Or that it will pass. Or that I'm mad because I'm so quiet.

The hardest part about mornings is the feeling and memories all come flooding back.

The hardest part about nights is not being able to go to sleep. My mind won't shut off.

Regarding alternative treatments, I have tried quite a few in addition to the medication: therapy, group, journaling, meditation.

People would be surprised to know how often I have suicidal thoughts.

My illness has taught me that I can be quite good at hiding my true feelings about myself.

One thing people say that gets under my skin is "Oh, you shouldn't think like that" or "You shouldn't feel that way." I know all that, but this illness is in the brain and when I'm in a depression, I don't think rationally.

But I love it when people notice that something is not right and ask me (genuinely) "What's going on?". But that rarely happens.

When someone is diagnosed I’d like to tell them: This one is tough; it is a lifelong battle. Get all the help you can every chance you get. Just taking a pill may not fix it.

Something that has surprised me about living with this illness is how the slightest thing - a comment, a rainy day, or a TV show - can set a depression in motion.

The nicest thing someone did for me when I wasn’t feeling well was acknowledge my feelings, no matter how magnified they might be.

Society wants its people to be optimistic... happy... positive... certainly not negative and full of doom and gloom. Honest feelings (such as anger, sadness, or frustration) are looked down upon... we should not discuss such things. "We need to snap out of it. No one else wants to hear our problems." Many times, none of that is possible for a person suffering from depression. I don't have a broken arm to display; I have a broken mind. Mental illness is still taboo in many ways. So when I am depressed, I feel isolated. That adds to the depression... it's a vicious cycle. Most times I just want someone to notice... sometimes I don't want to talk about it. Sometimes I want to scream my pain from the rooftops... most times, I just want to hide in my house with a blanket over my head. I probably won't go looking for comfort... I want it to come to me. Many times, my feelings are genuine... just magnified. Just because I have an illness of the mind does not mean that my feelings are never correct or justified. A careless comment that deserves my anger or hurt may set it off, but in the end, I will figure out how it was my fault... how everyone would be better off without me. As they say, depression is anger turned inward. Most of the time, I can hide it; sometimes it is obvious. Most times, I can go months without a depression... and then when it comes, it can linger for weeks. I can't speed it along. But it will go as quickly as it came. Until the next time.