A Note for Depressives

[Guest]

Hiya.

As many of us OSA sufferers are also sufferers of depression, and as I have noted on this forum (as in life) there can be much difficulty in explaining our condition (i.e. depression), I thought I would share a recent discovery with you.

Last year I was given a little book by a New Zealand illustrator (Matthew Johnstone). It is a short, largely illustrated book recounting the illustrator's experience with depression. It is called I Had a Black Dog. It is the best description of our experience I have come across - and is excellent to share with people to whom you want to want to explain your condition. It is empathetic, descriptive, and quick to read.

I hesitate to enthuse too much about books and films and music, because peoples' tastes vary so much. But this book is truly wonderful.

Check it out on http://www.ihadablackdog.com. The book is sold in the US and Canada as Living With a Black Dog, as the publisher for some reason wanted a slightly different version, written in the 3rd person.

Regards,

GrizzlyBear

Oh, by the way, if some naysayer wants to come on this thread and try and argue that depression is nothing but a case of the sads, then my recommendation is for you to read this book so that you have some understanding of what you are putting down. I have no intention of responding to your puerile comments (unless, of course, I change my mind!!!!).

[GrizzlyBear]

Oh, poo, poo, poo, poo, poo, poo.

I forgot to log in again. Silly old bugger.

[kteague]

GrizzlyBear,

Never was one to be depressed (in spite of what more than one doctor has said). I remember getting irritated at one and snapping, "I'm not depressed, I'm sick!" In recent times I've had to ask myself if maybe all I've been thru has indeed taken its toll and if I could be depressed. I just want to know that everything possible has been done for my physical health before they write off every symptom I have to depression.

I do hope to read that book at some point (too broke right now). First, I wonder if I'd recognize myself. Second, I'd like to better understand what living with depression feels like to the author, which apparently you can identify with. I'd much rather hear it from someone's personal description than a doctor's exposition on the subject.

Thanks for your openness and sharing this resource.

Kathy

[GrizzlyBear]

Hiya.

I tell my story in comparative brief - and I only do this because kteague asked - not because I think I or my story is in any way special or different. One of the things to note about depression is that it does not always follow the same path for everyone, and the causative factors can vary quite a lot. I could write a book, but have tried to keep it brief.

I have known I have had a serious problem since I was about fifteen, and was first diagnosed as being depressive when I was about nineteen. I had to keep it secret, or some bugger would have whipped me into a psychiatric hospital and given me electro-shock treatment, and goodness knows what drug treatment. Depressive issues seem to run in my family, and suicide and drug use is extant among various cousins, uncles and aunts.

My parents were murdered when I was nineteen, and of course this caused me significant additional issues. I tried to self-medicate throughout my twenties, with alcohol and various drugs. I didn’t tell anyone because I was ashamed – they tended to dismiss my more unusual behaviour as eccentricity, and I encouraged them to think that. I was helped to finish university, and I gained a government job. I was just able to hold down my job, but it was touch and go at times – my moods were harder to hide in the structured formality of full-time employment. Further, my alcohol use could sometimes be problematic.

By the end of my twenties, and the start of my thirties I had started to figure out the things that started me on a depressive cycle. Additionally, I entered into a permanent partnership, which stabilised my personal life. I started to actively cut back on my alcohol intake, and the things that triggered my attacks. This meant I tended to cut back on things that I enjoyed a lot, even though they caused me to run at the edge of a depressive whirlpool. I started to exercise ridgid control over my activities and my emotions, still hiding my condition from all those closest to me. Of course, it still broke out, but by this time I had a bit of a reputation as an eccentric, and I obfuscated things.

Let me try and explain about chronic depression. I’m not talking about so-called ‘manic depression’ or bipolar disorder (and thank goodness for that!). And I’m not talking about feeling sad, or downhearted, or moody. Everyone gets that at some time or another, it’s a natural part of life. I’m not even talking about extended periods of sadness. Nor about a single or couple of periods of crippling depression. I’m talking about recurring bouts, at various times, for various reasons of varying levels of crippling, uncontrollable sobbing or anger or even mindless inability to move, talk, think, or communicate. Including, among other things, suicidal tendencies and high level self-destructive fear. While it is not always at the same deep level, and I have over the decades developed various techniques for heading off the worst of it, with varying degrees of success, it is a truly awful thing.

While I developed fairly strong levels of control over my twenties, until I managed to gain generally strong levels of stability from my early thirties, for the last five years or so I have been losing my control. Then, early last year I lost control almost completely. It shocked me, as it was an attack of a degree of severity I had not experienced since my twenties – I was on the very edge of a self-destructive path. So I could hide it no longer from my partner, who fortunately pushed me into seeking help. I am a teacher - I was sobbing in the staff toilets (me, a highly self-controlled Aussie bloke!), I was getting angry tantrums at home, and I was frightened of hurting my darling children and my partner - possibly even killing them all when I killed myself. I really feel great shame admitting it.

Now, I am on the path to stabilisation again, as I correct many of the bad habits I developed decades ago. Control, I’ve discovered, is quite the wrong way to go. Nonetheless, it helped me eventually stabilise, and to hide my condition even from those closest to me.

I feel high guilt levels for hiding a key element of my self from those who I think had some right to know. Although I suspect that with the value of hindsight my success at hiding things was probably not really all that good. It’s just that I didn’t provide people with the one explanatory fact that would have linked and fully explained my behaviour for them - the fact that I am a chronic depressive.

Other peoples' stories may differ from mine, of course. Others probably have far worse stories to tell, noting that I have barely touched on my full story. However, I beg anyone reading who thinks they may be suffering depression to seek immediate help - because many people care, and many people WILL suffer if you die.

Regards,

GrizzlyBear (I need to run, others are demanding computer access!!!!)

[michaelho]

Thank you for sharing that explanation of a difficult life coping with depression. Many of us have similar symptoms (though not as dramatic life experiences).
It helps to see others have similar feelings and to see that you have come through them. I do understand that the latter may have been touch and go at times.
Again thanks for the gutsy post.

[GrizzlyBear]

Hiya.

I've managed to get some computer access while my sons have their breakfast!!!

I need to emphasise a couple of things that perhaps I rushed over before. First, if anyone suspects that they may have depression, even if their experience differs from my own, please seek help. The impacts can be extreme, and personally destructive (as well as destructive for those around you). Depression is insidious, and its onset can vary. I have chronic depression, others may experience short term or single attacks - the 'non-chronic' (for want of a better term) nature of your depression does not negate either the impact of your depression or the validity of your experience. Get help.

Second, accepting your depression is not a personal failure (as I tended to think). Some diseases require assistance to treat - in this context, depression is no different from cancer, heart disease or diabetes.

Finally (only because my sons are currently fighting and I'd better go sort it out), talking about depression can sometimes trigger it. I am still very fragile, but I believe this is important. I hope I am of assistance to some. And sometimes talking about it can help make it real, and help one to treat it.

Regards,

Peacemaker GrizzlyBear (I hope, World War 3 is taking place in my older son's bedroom!!!!!)

[sleepycarol]

There is still a stigma attached to mental illness and depression. I will be glad when society turns around and accept that it truly is a disease and not a weakness.

It runs in my family -- starting with my mother (possibly even before that but as we didn't have much contact with her relatives don't know). My siblings have been affected, their children, myself and my children. To some degree many in my family suffer in some form or other.

It isn't a matter of simply making up one's mind that they will "snap out of it".

Grizzly -- I know how hard it is to admit as I have my own issues and appreciate your sharing.

[Moby]

It is natural to it personally. Not sure what "it" is - having the disease, not "snapping out of it", that sort of thing.

I have just decided along with my psychiatrist to increase my antipressives from 150mg to 225mg daily. I've been accomplishing more things in my life, but the increased activity has had a backlash.

And yes, I feel I've "failed".

Thanks for the reminder that chronic depression is a disease much like diabetes or asthma, and our need for medication can vary throughout our life.

I feel that if I got my life "perfect" I wouldn't need a higher dose!!! Spot the disordered thinking there

Thanks for the support.

Di

[sleepycarol]

I can remember the dreaded call we received in 2000. I was doing errands when my husband tracked me down at the store and they announced that I had a phone call (we didn't have cell phones then). I answered the phone and he told me that our son had had a minor accident (at the time he lived 100 miles away) and he had a weird feeling that we needed to go to the emergency room where he lived. It was his girlfriend that had contacted us and told us that he had a minor mishap and nothing to worry about.

I knew something was the matter as we talked all the time prior and after the holidays (Christmas and New Years) he had stopped calling, wouldn't answer the phone, and no contact on his birthday -- zip. Nothing.

It was February 25th. I called our other kids and told them that she had called and we were going to the hospital. Although my kids have their words and fight they are really very close. They all decided to go with us. We ended up in 3 cars since their spouses went as well. We arrived at the emergency room and the doctor came out and explained that my son was in pretty serious condition and he would allow two of us to go back for only a few minutes. We went back into the er and barely recognized our son.
He had overdosed on pills (both prescription and non presciption) thought they were taking to long and so he slit his wrist. Even then he felt compelled to drench himself in lighter fluid and set himself ablaze. The doctors said he was determined to commit suicide and they were unsure why he hadn't succeed due to the extent of his injuries. It was a really slow recovery due to third degree burns over a 1/3 of his body. He bares the scars today.

They remind him of how far he has come in his recovery from his torment. He is doing so much better now -- but like I said it has been a really difficult journey for him and us!!

He is lucky -- God wasn't done with him and chose to let him live -- I think as a testament that it isn't a disgrace to suffer from depression. It isn't something that he woke up one morning and said oh let's see if I can reach the black depths of dispair and how far down I can go. It happened!!! He crawled up out of the pit. For those that do seek treatment and acknowledge their depression or other mental illness should be applauded for reaching out and getting the much needed help they need. One would NEVER tell a diabetic that they didn't need their insulin -- the same holds true for the ones suffering from mental illness they are NOT weak -- they have a very real disease -- the same as if they had cancer, diabetes, asthma, or other chronic condition!!

[Moby]

Oh Carol!

Thank you for writing that. Can't think of the right words to say, but thank you for sharing.

And thanks for the encouragement.

Regards

Di

[GrizzlyBear]

Wow, Carol.

Like I said, some stories are much worse than mine. I am extremely glad to hear that your son is feeling much better these days, although he has to deal with both the physical and emotional scars. And, of course, so do you and all his other loved ones and friends.

One of the things that some people beat themselves up about is when something happens to a depressive, and they feel that they should have known, and should have been able to help.

While far from an expert in this field, I can from my own experience state that sometimes the extreme and uncontrollable lows can sneak up and whack us unexpectedly - and no-one, least of all one's loved ones and friends can't be expected to know what is happening. Often the depressed person doesn't really know.

Further, many of us, for all sorts of reasons, become quite expert at disguising our depression. We become the life of the party, and the office joker. When all along we're screaming inside, or finding temporary relief in alcohol, drugs and the adrenalin of being a party animal.

People often say, 'But he seemed so happy'. At my school last year we had two seventeen year old girls commit suicide together. No-one expected it, they were beautiful young women. My colleagues said 'How could they?', but I knew (and couldn't say). But worse, many of them blamed themselves for not seeing it coming. But if we depressives are actively hiding it, what can you who care do? Nothing, but suffer the results of whatever we are driven to do.

But the other really hard thing is for people to stop short of blaming us. We can't help it. I have over the past few years had several students whose fathers committed suicide. People say 'How could they, they must be incredibly selfish to leave such wonderful families behind'. But such judgements are really unfair - at the end of the day, we can't help it. We are sick, and require empathy, and perhaps sympathy. We really can't help it - any more than a hayfever sufferer can help sneezing.

But please - all you sufferers out there, and all you who have suffered from the consequences of the actions of a depressive, rest assured that there are people who care, people who understand, and people who will help. You are not alone, you will never be alone, no matter how alone you may sometimes feel.

Regards,

GrizzlyBear

[sleepycarol]

I am familiar with mental illness as my mother had her first nervous breakdown (as they were called in the day) at age 39 shortly after having a hystercetomy. I was 14 at the time and my little sister was 4. She had to be hospitalized and that started s succession of hospital visits -- she would be home for a period of time and than have to go back for a few months and so it cycled. Even before her breakdown there were signs but at the time as a child I thought everyone lived a "crazy" life of strict routines and obsessive behaviors. I didn't realize it wasn't "normal".

My daughter was 15 at the time and when she suffered from severe depression and tried to commit suicide with an over dose of Tylenol and aspirin. At the time I was in college and when I got home from class hubby told me what she had done and I took her to the er. There the did the blood work and found that she was toxic but it wasn't enough to be lethal -- a call for help!! At the time we took her to counselling which helped. She was diagnosed with bipolar disorder.

When Tony, he was 24 at the time, tried his suicide attempt it was the most severe that I have had to deal with. My mother's and daughter's were all basically a cry for help.

There is hope for those that suffer. Treatment is far different from the old days (my mom endured electric shock treatment and some of the more bizarre treatment methods). Although there is still a stigma within society it has gotten better. At least now sufferers are not outcast and shunned. Treatment options have improved and many sufferers can lead somewhat normal lifes. My son was able to graduate from college and now teaches third grade.

THERE IS HOPE!!!! REACH OUT!!!! YOU CAN MAKE A DIFFERENCE!!

[GrizzlyBear]

Carol,

I very humbly (an unusual state for me, as my friends would attest!) thank you for sharing your experience. I know it can be hurtful, and indeed sharing my own experience has increased my fragility somewhat. But one of the ways I keep myself together is by trying to bear in mind that others have it worse - much worse.

And your advice is excellent. Thank you!

Regards and best wishes,

GrizzlyBear

[ColinP]

I know this is off topic, but am going ahead anyway.

I'm sitting here trying to work out how to tell my daughters that a friend of theirs has just been killed - her father shot her, then her mother and then himself. She spent the last night in intensive care and died this morning. My girls know she was shot, but not that she has died. How do you break news like that to kids? They are already freaked out that someone whose house they have slept over in has killed his wife and himself. So am I to tell the truth. I knew these people, and never suspected it at all.

Colin

[GrizzlyBear]

Colin,

I'm unsure of the age of your daughters. However, they will find out the truth soon anyway - so you have to tell them. I'm no expert, but if this happened to a friend of my sons (aged 7 and 10) I would tell them, share their sorrow and tears, and talk to them about how some people are sick in their minds for all sorts of reasons. This can occasionally (VERY occasionally) lead to tragedies like their friend's.

Because of a concern over the impact of this on kids at sensitive stages of their development, I would take advantage of counselling services - you may want to contact one first. There will be specialists in the care of children and adolescents and trauma counselling in South Africa - I am unsure how you would source them, but perhaps try your local hospital, or your family doctor, or maybe even their school (the school at which I teach has a welfare unit, including a counsellor, and when two of our students committed suicide together last year, they had trauma counsellors on the spot very quickly).

I'm sorry I can't be more helpful - but my heart goes out to you and your children, and all those affected by this awful act.

Regards,

GrizzlyBear