The holidays and depression. It always comes. I wish I had a remote that could fast forward from the Wednesday before Thanksgiving to Jan 3rd. I go all the way to Jan 3rd to avoid the inevitable "what did you do for new year's?" question and the look that I get when I say "nothing". The same goes for Thanksgiving and Christmas. "What did you do for Thanksgiving?" -- "Nothing". "What did you do for Christmas?" -- "Nothing". You should see the look I get. It's somewhere between pity and puzzlement. It's like you can hear them saying "Aww, that's sad" and "What the hell is wrong with you?" at the same time. After 13 years of working with the same people, you would think they would have figured it out by now that I am alone and quit asking. If I didn't know better, I would swear some of them are doing it on purpose.

I always try to prepare myself. Make plans to keep busy. But eventually the actual holiday arrives and I am alone with my thoughts. Thoughts of what everybody else is doing. Even if it is not a traditional celebration... maybe it's a vacation in a warmer climate... maybe it's skiing with friends... it still seems as if everybody has plans with somebody.

And don't even think about talking about it. People don't want to hear about it any more than they want to hear about the homeless or children in poverty. It ruins their little picture of the happy holiday world. So I smile and make everybody comfortable, even though I am in pain.

I don't have a good wrap up, so I'll leave it at that.

Happy Holidays everybody.

Tags: Depression

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As much reading, research, and treatment as I have done for this most recent bout of major depression, I don't think I really and truly completely thought of it as a valid disease... until now.

Today I got up, drank a cup of coffee and read the paper. I then showered and dressed, fixed my hair and put on jewelry, and went out in the world. Even my shoes matched. I went out to lunch (by myself, which is a big deal for me), went to the library, and then swung by the post office. At some point it dawned on me... I was having a "normal" day.

One of the first thoughts I had is that I wanted to share this on NKM2. Then, as I started thinking about what I would write, it suddenly sounded strange to me. I mean, successfully executing Activities of Daily Living is something you usually hear about during someone's recovery from an accident or physical injury.

And once again, the light bulb went off and I realized that I was, in fact, recovering from an illness. Just as if I had suffered a heart attack or a stroke. Here I am, a member of NKM2, and I am just now getting it. I guess I had a very narrow definition of stigma. To me it meant it something you just didn't talk about because people were uncomfortable with it. But it is more than that. It is a way of thinking; a mindset. In my case, the mindset that although the mental illness of depression may be classified as a disease, it is not like a "physical" illness. Sort of a "second-class" illness, if you will.

Of course with the knowledge that this is a real disease comes responsibility. Just as we would expect (or at least hope) that the person who had a heart attack or stroke would quit smoking, take blood pressure medication, exercise, etc., we too have a responsibility to ourselves and to encourage others to do the things that help us to recover, manage our disease, and prevent relapse.

I started this blog with the intent of sharing my small success with others and to possibly give hope. Two months ago I was ready to hang myself in the garage. Now I am on my way to being able to return to work. You can get better.

But there is a second message also. Mental illness is just as valid as physical illness. And if someone like me, who actually suffers from it, is just now understanding that, then we have a long way to go to get others to recognize that as well.

Thanks for letting me share

Steph

Tags: Stigma Mental Illness Depression

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