I've got friends calling. They want me to go to the hospital. Actually, they want to take me to the hospital. That's how fast it happened. Between Wednesday evening and Friday morning I went from feeling "a little off" to barely being able to move. I don't understand that. Consumed so quickly it makes my head spin, I don't understand that.
I made it to work yesterday morning, but by the time I got there it was clear I wouldn't be functional, so I turned around and drove the 30 minutes back home. I'm supposed to be working today. I'm not. I feel so tired, foggy, and heavy. It takes energy to move from the sofa to the kitchen. It takes energy to answer the phone. It takes energy to form words. The only thing that feels possible is lying flat on my back.
My thinking sucks. My resolve to push through my vile stream of consciousness sucks. My goals are out the window. I'm in this weird suspended state of inertia. I'm doing what I can, although now that I look at myself, maybe I'm not. It appears I haven't changed clothes in at least 24 hours. I guess I slept like this. Oh well. No harm in that.
As far as the hospital. I don't want to go there. It would be nice if I could just check myself in for a tune-up, get some things straightened out, and get back home. But that's not what happens in a psych unit. Perhaps if I had MS, or diabetes, or even the flu, that's how it would work. The doctors would wonder what they could do to help resolve my issue. They'd likely suggest med changes, even if temporarily, and make sure I received a bit of TLC.
In the psych unit, however, there would be lengthy discussions about what I've been doing wrong. Why is it I'm back there? There would be a referral to an occupational therapist to instruct me in how to create a daily schedule, because that's clearly what's lacking. I'm not following a daily schedule, so my depression is back. Relaxation, sleep hygiene (I love that term!), recreation therapy, and showering regularly would also be examined. In other words, I must not be taking care of myself correctly, or I wouldn't be suffering depression symptoms.
The difference between MD rounds on a medical floor versus MD rounds on a psych floor can be summed up like this: Medical doctor rounds; how can we help you? Let's order some tests and see what's going on. Psych doctor rounds; what happened? Why are you here? What weren't you doing?
I know how to keep a schedule. I actually keep one, and it's a schedule which includes work, exercise, recovery meetings, chores, errands, socialization and relaxation. Yet I'm still looking up from under a pile of shit.
Depression, despite my best efforts, is right this minute smothering me. And I'm not being smothered because I didn't perform my last set of heel raises yesterday. I'm suffocating because I have an illness. Yes, I probably need some help right now, but shaming me for my less-than-perfect (though pretty-damn-near-perfect) adherence to my daily schedule, is not the help I need.
Help is okay, even if it's hard for me to accept. But I hope I can avoid the hospital. What would be more helpful? Maybe just sit with me. Read a book or watch TV. Maybe just tell me you care. Maybe assure me this too shall pass. It always has. Maybe you know I'm stronger than I think. Remind me of that. And if all else fails, say a prayer. That's help I can appreciate.
Depression Marathon Blog
- etta
- Diagnosed with depression 18 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!
Saturday, February 23, 2019
Crash
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6 comments:
If I could come sit with you, I would. And I would tell you that you are stronger than you think. And that this too shall pass, it always does. I don't know you, but I care about you and your well-being. Since I can't come sit with you and watch tv or read a book, or say any of the things you need to hear, I will say prayers for you. Be gentle with yourself.
I’m not sure where you live. If I could come sit with you, read a book to you I would. For now, I will say a prayer
This will pass, it always does. You are stronger than you think. I am praying for you right now. I care. I sure wish I lived near you and I would come and sit with you and watch TV and make you some good food to eat. Hang in there. You have done this before, you can do it again. I totally understand.
I am a nursing student who is writing my thesis paper on depression. I came across your blog and I appreciate your words and your raw vulnerability that you are sharing with others so that the stigma that surrounds depression can be lifted and a real conversation and healing can begin. When feeling like this, can you identify why it is you don't want to go to the hospital for help when your friends and family around you think you should go? I'm not wanting to shame you, I am just wondering from a medical perspective, if there is something in particular that is keeping you from going? I know we don't know one another but I will praying for you. This too shall pass, looks like you have lots or people around you who love and care. I wish you the best!
Kristen Spencer
I've lurked here for many years always checking in on your journey. I always feel compelled to comment when you're in this place. I don't have chronic depression - but I have had two episodes of depression that were so profound and horrible that I thought they might suck the life out of me completely. Therefore, they gave me enormous empathy for the feelings anyone who has depression have. That you battle this disease so courageously is a testimony to your incredible soul and indescribable tenacity. I'm so sorry you're feeling this way again. This too shall pass. They'll find the right key unlock this latest bout and you'll find relief. I do think you need to go to the hospital if you haven't already. They'll have your records there and know what you've done during your last bout for treatment and hopefully follow suit with that again. You can do this. You've done nothing wrong. You do everything right. This is just the illness. You're going to be ok.
@ Kristen: You raise a very good, reasonable question. I refer you to a previous post of mine: https://depressionmarathon.blogspot.com/2009/01/letter-to-emergency-room.html.
I have access to a a wonderful psychiatric unit here, but for the reasons I delineated in this post as well as in the post I referenced above, it is a shameful experience to get in the door, and then once in the door, many of the docs are demeaning. The nurses are great! But there is so much shaming and blaming... "What did you do wrong? Why aren't you managing you illness? You must not be taking care of yourself or you wouldn't be here..." Even though they are psychiatrists, there seems little understanding that sometimes depression, just like any other illness, rears it's ugly head despite the patient's best efforts to control it!
But the NUMBER ONE REASON I try not go to the hospital here is because the ONLY way to get admitted is to go through the Emergency Room. That is such a painful, demeaning, shaming, unpleasant experience, I can rarely force myself to go through it, even when I know I might be better off in the hospital.
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