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!

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Struggling with the chicken and the egg.

Only a depression blog could follow a post labeled "Laughing..." with a post labeled "Struggling..." The essence of depression in two sequential posts. Gotta love it.
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Struggling.
I am struggling.

I am struggling with my thinking. I am struggling with my attitude. I'm tired of this illness. I'm tired of being sick. I'm tired of taking a handful of meds morning and night just to function like a semi-normal person. I think about quitting them. I forget them--I never forget my meds. But I have forgotten them lately. Is that because I'm feeling pissed off about needing them, or is that because my concentration and memory are worse--two sure signs of impending doom. Am I struggling with my illness or with me?

Is my depression getting worse, and therefore I am struggling with my thinking and my attitude? OR, is my screwy thinking and negative attitude bringing on the vacuum of depression? Who the hell knows! Who the hell cares! Chicken or egg... Egg or chicken...

This constant conundrum is yet another reason depression is so personal and confusing. If a brain tumor was getting larger, I would not be contemplating these questions! Friends and family would not contemplate such questions, and doctors would not probe for some triggering event. Everyone would understand that sometimes a tumor just grows. Sometimes depression just grows, too, but that's a lot harder to wrap one's mind around. Even I, the mentally ill person, often find that fact unacceptable. There must be a reason...

Around and around I go. My thinking is disjointed, distracted, and punishing. I feel impatient, ambivalent, and angry. My temper is short; my serenity shorter. Am I diving into the funnel of depression, or am I self-destructing of my own free, stubborn will? Does it matter? Around and around I go. Chicken or egg... Egg or chicken...

Fuck it! Fry the chicken and scramble the egg!
Resolving nothing, I still feel like crap.
I'm still struggling.
Struggling.

3 comments:

crackedheadblog said...

I could have written this. I'm sure I have written similar posts. It's the nature of this shit I'm afraid. I'm sorry it's your turn to suffer yet again.

deepblue said...

I have felt this, too.

Wish I could figure it out somehow . . .

Jennifer said...

Sorry to hear about your current struggle. It can feel never-ending.



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