Depression Marathon Blog

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Diagnosed with depression 16 years ago, I lost the life I once knew, but in the process re-created a better me. I am alive and functional today because of my dog, my treatment team, my sobriety, and my willingness to re-create myself within the confines of this illness. I hate the illness, but I'm grateful for the person I've become and the opportunities I've seized because of it. I hope writing a depression blog will reduce stigma and improve the understanding and treatment of people with mental illness. All original content copyright to me: etta. Enjoy your visit!

Thursday, May 5, 2011

Sort of Home

As anticipated, I left the hospital yesterday after 14 days on the inpatient psych unit. My social worker gave me a ride home where I unpacked and repacked. I'd worn the same few things for the past 14 days, and I wanted nothing to do with those clothes anymore. I repacked my suitcase in order to go to my friends house where I will stay for the duration of my outpatient ECT. As usual, my friends Bill and Cindy are stepping up and taking good care of me.

I spent my first night here last night. It's just me and Bill for now, as Cindy is out of town. Unfortunately, the first night didn't go too well. I felt anxious and empty during the evening. And for the second time in the past 5 days, I cried myself to sleep. I was incredibly sad. I don't know why. The sadness just welled up from deep within, and I couldn't stop crying.

Today, the sadness and emptiness remains, and it has me quite distressed. I saw my psychiatrist this morning. She reassured me that sometimes, even after 6 ECT treatments, some patients do not notice an improvement. She told me it doesn't mean I won't improve, that I still could respond to the treatments remaining. At this point, it looks like I will be doing 10-12 treatments rather than the 8 for which I had hoped. I wish I felt as confident as my psychiatrist that things will improve.

The reality is I'm scared. I don't know things are going to improve. Nobody does. That scares me. There is no timetable to this illness. It doesn't have a nice beginning, middle and end. It waxes and wanes, comes and goes, usually on its own schedule and certainly not on mine. As I mentioned previously, the longer this episode goes unchecked the more hopeless, helpless, and discouraged I feel. I'm attacking it from every angle, and still I'm not improving. That's frightening. I'm not sure what else I can do.

3 comments:

Paul Rhodes said...

im a runner and a clinical psychology academic and read your blog... sorry to hear about your troubles..hoping you find a way to take control of it and grab the bastard by the horns!

Maggie Beth said...

Just lettin' you know I'm thinkin' 'bout ya....

This WILL pass Etta ~ It WILL.

Maggie!

Jamie said...

That sucks. And it's so true that this illness doesn't have a nice timeline. I often wish it did too.

Good luck as you continue with this journey. You're a marathon runner, you can do anything!



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