Depression Marathon Blog

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Diagnosed with depression 17 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, February 7, 2008

hard to cry with goggles on.

I learned something new this morning. The Speedo goggles keeping the saltwater pool at bay worked just as effectively holding my salty tears inside their silicon gaskets. Guess what? Salt stings. Internally released or externally exposed, salt stings my eyes. It's hard to cry with goggles on...

It's been another 24 hours of my slow-motion rollercoaster ride. I hate when it gets like this. "This" is when my brain feels other than my own, and sometimes my thoughts race or randomly skip about. "This" is when senseless tears well at the back of my throat and sometimes surface in my eyes, but more often they stop and stalk, as if waiting for a moment only they know will never arrive. "This" is when I can feel my heart heavy in my chest; an added burden to lumber around. "This" is when my legs get stiff, my shoulders sore, and my will weak. "This" is when I can neither sleep enough nor wake-up enough. "This" makes me question my character, my motivation, my will, my fight. "This" steals my sunshine and gratitude, replaces patience with irritability, and batters my worthiness to share anyone's life.
This is depression. It can be cyclical, or not; predictable, or not; stable, or not; subtle, or not; physically painful, or not; psychotic, or not; responsive to treatment, or not. My depression has, at one time or another, been all of those things, some of those things, and none of those things! I am back on my slow-motion rollercoaster, but no matter how many times I repeat the ride, it seems the track my ride takes never repeats. Why?

"This" is me, today, on this ride, feeling this desperation,
yet appearing exactly as I do on any other "normal" day.

as long as I don't remove my goggles...

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