Depression – it’s like this dark hole that the harder you try to climb out of the deeper you fall into. It overwhelms you to the point where you can no longer see a way out of it. You’re crawling around in the dark and you don’t know which way is up, which way is out, and you’ve lost the tiny spot of light that could even direct you.
I’ve taking to crying at the drop of a hat, something I never use to do. In fact, crying was always looked at as a sign of weakness to be done in private or not at all. Most days I don’t even want to get out of bed because there is nothing out there that interest me or makes me want to leave the relative safety of my bed. I could care less about what is going on in the world around me, and the quiet that death would bring seem like it would be a welcome relief.
I was reading an article in Psychology Today on Child Abuse and Depression by Ellen McGrath, that talks about how traumatic experiences, aka child abuse changes the very chemistry and structure of how our brains work. We become overly responsive or as I like to call it hyper-vigilant to our environment and the pressures put upon us. These experiences shape the way our brain is wired and reset out sensitivity levels to much higher than the normal person. Know I understand why something that seems so small to everyone else can send me into a tail-spin.
I know that half my problem is that I live in a place where instead of helping me to feel protected thus lessing my stress response, I live with people who trigger me. I feel alone. I know that many treatments recommend talking to the other people in your family that have dealt with being abused by the same perpetrator but that is not how my family works. Instead of looking for a way for all of us to heal from what was done to us. My family is looking for a way to bury the secret as far as they can so that it no longer exists. Except those of us with any therapy sessions under our belt know that this buried secret always finds a way to the surface where it outs its self.
I found The Zung Questionnaire which is a self-rating scale which is a useful complement in the diagnosis of depression. I rated a 70 out of a possible 80. I guess it’s time to have this discussion with my doctor again.
I don’t usually do this but I am adding a poll to this post to see were my readers are with their depression. Sometimes it helps to know you are not alone.