5 things I learned from depression

I don’t like to write about depression. I don’t like to talk about depression. I don’t like think about depression. I don’t like to acknowledge that depression even exists. I would rather steal the words of The Bloggess Jenny Lawson and say “Let’s pretend this never happened,” when it comes to depression.

I’ve lost too many days to depression as is and the reality of bipolar disorder is that the possibility of another episode of depression is always on the horizon.

Sometimes you can do all the things you are supposed to do- stay hydrated, exercise, eat healthy- and you can’t escape the slip into darkness. This weekend I felt a numbness in the place where joy usually resides. It was husband’s birthday, KU was killing it on the court in the Big 12 Tournament, yet I felt nothing but pain. It hurts to think about depression because I know I’ll never get those days back. Those opportunities for celebration are gone. And I’ve already lost too many days to this disorder as is.

I don’t want to think about, or talk about, or write about depression, but I am because if the lessons I’ve learned can help even one person then maybe, just maybe, my lost days will have some redemption.

So here’s what I’ve learned about depression:

1. Get help sooner rather than later. I know, you think you can do it on your own. Or maybe you think you don’t deserve help. Or maybe you think you can’t afford help. Or maybe you think you can pray this demon away. There a million reasons not to get professional help. IGNORE ALL OF THEM. I lost a lot of days listing reasons why I shouldn’t get help. And I will never get those days back. You can start with your primary care doctor but I always recommend follow up with a psychiatrist. If you have bipolar disorder SSRI’s, which are often used to treat depression, could trigger a manic or hypomanic episode.
2. If you EVER, EVER, have thoughts of hurting yourself or fixations of death call your doctor immediately. If you don’t have a doctor call the National Suicide and Crisis Hotline at 1 (800) 784-2433. I know this can be the hardest thing to talk about. Trust me, I’ve been there. There is so much judgement surrounding suicide and you may think that no one will understand what you are going through. The truth is, you may be right about no one understanding, but there are people who can help even if they don’t understand your condition completely.
3. Let your friends/family/significant other be there for you. This too can be hard. You may think of yourself as charity case, but I can assure you that your loved ones don’t. They care about you. Let them take you to lunch and stay by your side as you ride this out. If you are lucky enough to have loved ones that are there for you, for God’s sake let them be there for you.
4. Stick to your routine as much as possible while you ride out this storm. Continue to exercise, meditate and go to work if possible. Go through the motions. Even if you are only going through the motions while you wait for your medications to adjust it will make the transition back to health easier than if you cave into the urge and stay in bed all day.
5. Know your support team. My husband, best friend and therapist are the three people I know I can be completely honest with, even if my darkest moments. I know these people will never give up on me and they are who I turn to when I start to feel the darkness rising. Identify your support team and don’t be afraid to cling to them.

Life is tough and messy and depression can make life unmanageable. But there is hope. There is life after depression. That is what I always tell myself. And to be honest I’ve had days where I don’t even believe those words even as I tell them to myself. But on the other side of depression I’m so glad that I hung on even when I couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel.

What if ... hapened? Would you need to go on disability?

They say most people are only two paychecks away from living on the street. I’m beginning to think that most people who have bipolar disorder are only a few “what-ifs” from receiving a disability check.

What if I didn’t have my husband to finance my life while I pursue my oh-so-not lucrative  writing career? What if I wasn’t able to quit the job that demanded I work 10 plus hour days? What if I wasn’t able to find a job flexible enough to maintain healthy boundaries to keep my episodes at bay? What if I became manic again? Or too depressed to show up for work? What if? What if?

I used to think it was absurd when I heard about the amount of bipolar people who are on disability.

According to the Association of Community Mental Health Centers in Kansas, 50 percent of those who are on medicaid with a disability have a mental illness. That’s half of all people who are on disability. Half. Seriously.

I used to think that could never be me. I thought that most likely the majority of people who applied for disability because of bipolar disorder just weren’t trying hard enough. They just hadn’t found the correct cocktail of pharmaceuticals to make them employable. They just weren’t trying hard enough.

I used to think that, until those pesky “what ifs” crept into my head. In reality, I believe if it weren’t for a series of fortunate events I would likely be among those filing for disability, trying to get back on my feet while recovering from this debilitating, chronic illness.

But I’m not on disability. While I am still completely employable, I chose to work on a freelance basis because it works better for my health and my lifestyle. I have that option, and I know that other people don’t.

I’m not on disability because Lithium works phenomenally well with me. As far as prescriptions go Lithium is dirt, dirt cheap. Like it’s on Wal-Mart’s $2 prescription list cheap. (I actually don’t know if it’s on Wal-Mart’s $2 prescription list because I have insurance and get my prescriptions at Dillion’s Pharmacy, but you get the point.)

I’m not on disability because I’ve always been able to have insurance through my employer or my husband’s employer. Since my diagnosis I have never had a gap in insurance for longer than a month.

I’m not on disability because these series of fortunate events have prevented those dreadful “what ifs” from happening.

I know some people would give God credit for my series of fortunate events or would attribute these positive outcomes to my hard work and responsibility. But I’m hesitant to claim to understand the blessings and burdens that come down from the divine. (I have read the book of Job.)

What I do know, is that I have been blessed. And had it not been for the abundance of blessing and grace in my life I could easily be among those applying for disability and medicaid because of my bipolar disorder.

What I do know is that I am only a few “what ifs” away from that fate.

It’s scary to realize how close we are to the “others” we once thought we could never be. It’s scary to realize that if a few breaks hadn’t gone my way my experience could easily be the same as those with whom I don’t want to identify.

But when I let my guard down and acknowledge how interconnected the human experience is I no longer fear those “what ifs.” Instead, I embrace them and the grace that comes in knowing that ultimately we are all in this together.