Holding back thoughts and emotions, are part of the make-up of the brain of some suffering depression. Actually, emotions are nearly non existent, except when displayed as anger, agitation, irritability. Not the little stuff–but big irrational blow ups. There are probably more emotions displayed, but happy is not one of them. Well—maybe during a manic phase for some.
Anyway, I’m not a brain function expert, and I have some hesitation writing this post because words can have an impact, and I certainly don’t want what I am about to say have a negative impact on anybody.
Friends of mine recently lost their daughter to a drug overdose. She was always a challenge for them, and was very destructive to their family life due to her mental illness.
One part to understanding my depression and anxiety was me. Over the last 30 years, I expected a special pill, for someone to tell me how to be happy, and to point out what I’m doing wrong. I made no effort to help myself beyond medications, primary doctors, and self-help books—which, by the way, made me feel more inadequate. When that didn’t work, I discontinued taking medications and used alcohol to exist through my numbness.
My friends did all they could to help their daughter. The treatment was not enough, nor was it successful.
Oddly, their experience has enhanced some self doubt. What if I’m really not recovering from depression? Am I even sick enough to call myself depressed? Was I just feeling sorry for myself?
To get to where I am today, I had a lot of work to do. I had to face, and look at things I had been avoiding because they were ugly, scary, and left me vulnerable. I had to place myself in anxiety producing situations, and to recognize my own bizarre behavior and thoughts. With the tools my therapist gave me, and with medication, I have been able to perform the part I play in my recovery. Yes, I recognized that the part of the equation I had been missing all these years, was the effort I didn’t take responsibility of.
None of it was easy, except the pill taking and the blabbing to my therapist. The hard work was up to me.
Could that be the answer for others?
No, I don’t believe so.
I am even having doubts that I’m even smart enough, and that is why I feel as if I’m getting better, because I’m disillusioned. There are some with a mental illness who, through medication and various therapies, can’t reach the rational part of the brain that recognizes they have to put in effort as well. That part of the brain has short circuited.
Why has my therapist, neuropsychological testing, my psychologist all told me that I’m severely depressed, and suffer from General Anxiety Disorder? My psychologist even hinted that he suspected I had Bipolar II, which created a Google frenzy.
If all people had to do, is recognize the fact that they have to be willing to do some hard work themselves toward their recovery, why are people still suffering?
Obviously, I have some more thoughts to push around my brain. Perhaps I’m simply tired because I only clocked about an hour of sleep last night.
Nothing beautiful here today. You can find me on the couch.
Hope you find something beautiful today!
****A wee bit of reflection on this subject. After the stinkin’ Google searches on “can depression be cured”, I am choosing to believe that I have some control over my mental health. I am in a good place mentally, and worrying about whether I will hit the pit again isn’t helping matters. What I have been doing, has been helping me. I will continue to do my work that is required to, in order to help my team help me. I won’t give in to anxiety or fear.*******