Depression is a Bitch!

Finding a Purpose

2011-07-01T02:21:00.000-07:00

A lot of tumultuous events have taken place since the last post. If I were to compare my life back in January with today, it's night and day, both for the better and worse. I'd been living about forty miles south of my hometown, trying to be "independent", renting an apartment with friends from church. The entire independence thing is totally ridiculous and overrated. To make a long story short, I ended up in a friendship that turned sour very quickly and in a complex and bizarre manner. I decided to leave and return home, which caused the friendship to blow up and turn into a pot of boiling muck. My own self-esteem, self-worth, and authority to live my life were all being challenged by this friendship, and although I made the right decision to leave (as it was obviously an abusive relationship), it created a lot of severe anxiety. I've always tried to make sure no one ever hates me, but such a thing is unrealistic. People can find any reason to hate you and it's out of your hands.
So although I'm happy to be away from that stupid place and away from that relationship, I really don't know what to do now. I've been trying very hard to kickstart my writing and publishing business, but I don't have any audience to speak of and no one's paying attention. It's extremely frustrating and there's only so much I can do to help it. (On the flipside, I can easily use this blog as my personal journal because I know no one's reading it, haha.)
One of my main ideas is to move to Los Angeles or travel to Paris where I can hopefully find connections with other writers and find someone to take interest in my work. It's not like I have a solid plan though. I have many acquaintances in L.A. and I assume Paris is a good place for writers, but to go there and seek new friendships and connections is very risky and I simply have no idea what might happen.
But I had another idea as well. I was watching a movie last night called The Gift starring Cate Blanchett, Giovanni Ribisi, Katie Holmes, and other famous actors. It takes place in what looks to be a small town in Louisiana and the plot involves a murder in which Cate Blanchett, a psychic, helps solve the crime.
What really struck me about the film was how the people of this small Southern town related to one another. I was especially touched by Giovanni Ribisi's character, a young man with mental illness and deep psychological wounds, who is a friend of the psychic and seeks her help for his personal issues. The psychic, a mother of three boys, has a deep bond with this young man and it was clear that her kindness towards him had a profound effect upon his life.
What I took from that film was the truth that even if I were to only touch one person's life in a profoundly good way, it would be better than not having touched anyone at all. In other words, to have that kind of bond with one person is worth more than a thousand "connections" with the world's influential people.
So I wonder about my purpose as a writer. I wonder what God wants and what He has planned. Should I just write in anonymity and hope to touch that one person or should I go out into the world and seek that attention from everybody?
I want both. The truth and passion I have is something I have to share with the world, but I never want my feet to leave the ground. I want those heart-to-heart connections, but I also want a worldwide audience. I want to stay grounded and global at the same time. My writing is simply worth being read by the world, and I don't care if that sounds conceited. I have truth to share with people and everyone needs truth in their lives. So, I guess I know what I want, I just don't know how to get there.

Phantom Emotions

2011-01-21T18:31:00.000-08:00

It seems like no matter what I do, what herb or medicine I take, my anxiety succeeds in disturbing me. I've been anxious everyday for two weeks now, the kind of stomach-churning anxiety that makes it difficult to do things. I can't stand it and there just aren't any answers for it. Why am I anxious? I can name plenty of triggers, but I can't explain why the anxiety persists like this or why it comes up when there are no triggers at all.

Anxiety and depression are the two most destructive and unproductive emotions you can feel. They accomplish nothing. They don't compel you to do anything useful or good. They take up all your time and energy and leave you empty.

I woke up with a splitting headache this morning and I had a dream that I'd snorted cocaine with a couple guys from my church. I've had many disturbing dreams, countless, but I definitely didn't see that one coming. We were snorting it, getting high, and then hiding these pills (which were supposedly cocaine even though cocaine doesn't come in pill form) from a bunch of adults including my dad. There was also this weird woman, like the owner of the house that we were in, and it was kind of like this freaky 70's movie called Burnt Offerings. It was strange and I definitely felt odd when I woke up.

And on top of that, I felt like I needed to increase my dose of Seroquel, and consequently I got that weird feeling of being in a different place at a different time, like my brain was switched or something. I hate that feeling and it's hard to describe, but Seroquel sometimes does that to me. I'm just really not appreciating all this crap going on in my head. It's so uncomfortable and I can never relax.

And since this is all so strange and difficult to understand and describe, I feel alone and scared. I can call up my friends, but they really wouldn't know what to say and they'd most likely say the wrong thing. But I don't even know what would make me feel better, so how could they?

I'm just trying to do my freaking job, write stories, and it's a challenge even to do that.

I think the Seroquel, while it produces anxiolytic and anti-psychotic states, opens a door in my mind that allows for dreams to flow through uninhibited, vivid, and emotionally charged. It's been bothering me for three years now. Three years of bad dreams. I've never met anyone who can relate to that. When I'm asleep, I experience an entirely different reality called the subconscious, a world that never plays by the rules of the conscious world. I can only call upon Jesus and seek His power because He's the only one who can help me at all.

The Subliminal Expectation

2010-11-26T03:49:00.000-08:00

I've learned something rather crucial about expectations that no therapist has ever spoken to me about and may be difficult to explain, but I'll do my best.

Ever since I started working on my anxiety disorder back in 2003, I learned that managing expectations is key to controlling anxiety and depression. One must learn to keep expectations reasonable and low so that disappointment and anger can be avoided if the expectation is not met. Like all things, I took this lesson to heart and immediately began lowering my expectations about everything, especially my relationships (friends and family). As the years went by, I approached my relationships with a very analytical mindset (the downside of being a worrier), telling myself not to expect certain things, like a friend who helps me with my problems or one who calls when he says he will. Sounds odd, doesn't it? Friends should do those things, but since I grew up with "friends" who didn't, I told myself it wasn't expectable.

The problem was, I was putting the cart before the horse. Since I had had so many dysfunctional and abusive peer relationships growing up, I had dozens of very negative expectations hiding in my sub-conscious. I thought I was making progress by setting these extremely low expectations of others, but what I didn't realize was that I was actually setting highly destructive expectations for others, even though I didn't consciously think them. Are you catching my drift? I was expecting my friends to become dishonest and abandon me, because although I greatly feared that, it was all I had ever known.

In the spring of 2005, I met a young college guy from Kuwait who had agreed to tutor me in Arabic. We became friends very quickly and I was enamored with him and his Arab culture. This will sound bizarre, but the first night I met him, I got so excited at the thought of having him as a friend, I went into an almost manic state for about three days. I couldn't focus at school or during track practice. That's how desperate I was for good friendship.

The Kuwaiti met my destructive expectations perfectly and I was devastated. I couldn't understand how someone could behave in such a dishonest manner and abandon me in the end. I spent a full year trying to restore my relationship with him, but he'd disappeared. A year later I met another Arab from Saudi Arabia at college and our friendship seemed more genuine, but after I came home for the summer he stopped answering my messages and I could never reach him on his cell phone. He would say hi every once in awhile and one time he even promised to be on MSN everyday to talk, but he completely broke his promise and disappeared. I was heartbroken.

This trend would go on for four more years and it hasn't been until this year that I've begun to understand the nature of my subliminal expectations and how I've turned rather insignificant things, like a friend not calling me, into terrible offenses.

My point is, if you feel the need to work on your expectations, think about your negative expectations, the bad things you expect people to do as well as the good. It's not just about good expectations and whether or not someone meets them. Our minds are very powerful and what goes on in our sub-conscious greatly effects our real life. If it wasn't for my current therapist, a psychoanalyst, I'm not sure I would've discovered this vital truth. It's a hard and complicated road to recovery, but the end result is truly far better than what you're used to.

My True Face

2010-05-19T01:15:00.001-07:00

I've recently returned home after spending five weeks in Cancun. I went there on a mission to experience Mexico, study Yucatec Maya, and get away from life at home. I succeeded at experiencing Mexico and getting away from home, but the Maya thing didn't work out

There's a voice here at home that tells me satisfaction can never be found through a relationship with another person. No, this voice is not a metaphor or hallucination; it's real. It says that friendship will never be satisfying because another person will never be able to meet my needs. But such an idea is wholly depressing and hopeless. What's ironic is that this voice is someone who lives a life full of people, friends, and family, and yet he tells me other people cannot bring fulfillment. I know people who have so many people in their lives, they actually make efforts to "get away" so they can spend time with themselves. I live the opposite life, so how can they tell me such things? If they took the time to live the way I do, maybe their ideas wouldn't sound so...logical.

So I went to Cancun. I went their thinking I would show the world that I, Marc, had overcome the hell of psychotic depression. I'd escaped incarceration in a hospital and I'd walked away from the cliffs of suicide. I was a conqueror, a victor. I went to Cancun telling myself that I was perfectly fine being alone in Mexico, that I would be perfectly capable of carrying out my work by myself. I told myself I had gone to educate myself and exert my independence.

But you know what I really wanted, what I really dream of? I dream of going someplace where friendship is not hoarded by some while others starve to death for lack of companionship. I dream of going somewhere where a phone call is not considered as difficult as organ donation. I dream of a place where I can touch people, talk to them, see them.

Sometimes, in jest, I call myself a vampire. I feel most comfortable at night, I can only sleep in cold temperatures, I seem to thrive off all things passionately dark, and I feel so much older than I am. I may not drink blood, but in a way, my social interactions here in America are almost like a bite on the neck, the taste of something I crave but can only have so little of. Forget Yucatec Maya, I just wanted some genuine Mexican friendship...

Mexican Psychiatry

2010-05-06T14:59:00.001-07:00

I've been in Cancun for almost a month now and I'm forced to find a way to get the medication I need or go home. Today I visited with a doctor at a pharmacy for twenty-five pesos and explained to him my situation and what I needed. I should've known he wouldn't be so keen on filling some American guy's prescription for psychiatric drugs. He asked me a lot of questions and then told me he could give me a concentrated vitamin injection that would take care of my depression for good. I wouldn't need to take any more meds, according to him.

I told him I needed to talk with my doctors about it, but there's really no way I can receive an injection and then stop taking my medication. That would be insane. But the meeting sort of shook me up and I almost agreed to do it right on the spot. The guy was promising a fast and easy cure to a problem I've had for four years, and I wanted to believe him. I wanted him to help me, to make me better, but I know that that just isn't possible. I'm sure the injections would make me feel good, but there's no way it could cure my depression.

At first I thought maybe this doctor was on to something. Maybe I am just drugged up and maybe all I need is a concentrated vitamin solution injected into my butt. But then I thought, maybe it's the opposite case. Maybe he really doesn't understand psychiatry at all. Maybe he doesn't understand the meaning of "clinical depression".

There are a lot of people out there who think psychiatry is a conspiracy, an evil plot to control the minds of innocent people. But that's bullshit. Psychiatry, although difficult to understand, is real, and synthetic medicines have helped thousands of people who've suffered like I have. Without my medication, I wouldn't be here in Mexico. I probably wouldn't even be alive.

The Beast of Anxiety

2010-04-14T17:54:00.001-07:00

You know, after battling with anxiety and PTSD for the past ten years, you'd think I'd know how to handle it; you'd think it wouldn't be an issue. That's what I thought at least, especially considering the fact that I completed Lucinda Bassett's Attack Anxiety and Depression program twice. That's a fifteen-week program and it teaches everything you need to know about cognitive behavior therapy.

So here I am in Mexico and I can't seem to get a hold of anything. I'm on a roller coaster where every minute is a new turn, a drop, a slow ascension, and then a gut-wrenching drop again. Who the hell is in the driver's seat? I thought I was, but it appears maybe I'm not, which is hard for me to understand because I've done so much to cope with my anxiety and I'm even on an anti-anxiety medication. Anxiolytics are strong medications, so why isn't it keeping everything under control? Why aren't my CBT skills working? I'm like a limp flag in the wind.

What really gets me is all the preparation I did before coming to Cancun. I planned everything, absolutely everything, but it just doesn't feel right. My studio apartment is better than anything I could've asked for, but what's funny is that I think the apartment is the only thing I'll miss, which says a lot. I really don't care much about the tropical climate, the warm Caribbean shores, or anything else that makes Cancun such a popular destination. I'm not even in love with the food!

Perhaps this is my challenge, to leave this place after wanting so badly for it to be a new home. I thought my challenge would be to leave Washington, but that part wasn't actually that hard. I feel bad of course, because I was so excited to come here and I had so much hope for this place. I guess I forgot that, like anything else, there are just some places I don't like.

Intuition or Misinterpretation?

2010-04-04T15:50:00.000-07:00

I recently had a very open and honest conversation with a friend who told me that my belief that other people could fulfill my needs was irrational. Now, there are many ways to interpret what was said, but for the sake of simplicity, let's just take it point blank. This friend also told me that they felt enormous amounts of pressure because they felt as if I was asking them to save me from myself and affirm me as a valuable person.

Now, when I think about these things, part of me is really baffled because I have always made a conscious effort to not overwhelm others with my problems. I've always respected other people's boundaries and rarely do I come running to them in a crisis asking for help. So the question is, how is it that my friends are interpreting my behavior like this when I'm trying not to be that way? How is it that my friends feel overwhelmed even though I've always kept my distance and respected their boundaries? It absolutely boggles my mind!

I realize that there are parts of me I don't like, but I've never even come close to saying, "Please save me from myself." So why are my friends hearing that? Why are they interpreting me like that? Of course I struggle with self-contempt, but who doesn't? I can't expect myself to solve all of my psychological problems just for the sake of securing a "healthy" friendship. That's impossible and I will always have psychological issues no matter where I am or who I'm with.

So I ask myself, am I doomed to the intuition of others who feel I am overwhelming and needy?Am I caught in a world where the words, 'please call me' are interpreted as, 'please save me'?

Honestly, I feel trapped. I've tried so hard to be an okay guy who's aware of boundaries and appropriateness, yet one of my best friends is telling me that I in fact do the opposite to a degree. How is that possible? How is any of this possible? I don't understand how this happened. I must have a mild case of Jekyll and Hyde syndrome.

This Farsighted Society

2010-02-26T02:55:00.001-08:00

I feel so hung out to dry, and it's a feeling I've been living with for a long time. I want so badly for a doctor to help me, but they don't know what to do. The only thing they can do is try another medication and speculate. I guess what I really want is some good quality attention. I want someone to sit and listen to everything I have to say, because in spite of weekly therapy sessions, I have so much bottled up inside. I write story after story, but I don't have anyone to read them and talk about them with me. My stories tell my life, and no one's listening.

I've known people who have gone to extreme lengths to get what I'm talking about i.e. attention. There are people who've almost killed themselves to get it. And it's not that they're self-centered, no. They're drowning in silent pain, depression, and no one cares to listen. So, they long for attention. They long for someone to care for them, to look after them.

I've told my friends that I hate how the Christian community focuses all their resources on people who are materially poor, but Christians never seem to care about those who are emotionally destitute. And pastors always preach about love, but they fail again and again to realize that we are human beings who need companionship, not isolation with a Bible in our hands. God, I hate how farsighted pastors are. They can't see the need that's standing right in front of them, they are so focused on the spiritual world. I hate it.

I wish my doctor could dote on me. I wish my friends could set aside time to listen to me. I'm honestly so tired of attending group functions because I feel like I'm always playing a role that is slowly deteriorating. I am not happy. I am not at peace. I'm trying desperately to figure out what needs to change, and I'm seriously considering the idea of leaving this place and trying my luck somewhere else, although I know that will be a big risk.

The Aftershock

2010-02-06T23:16:00.000-08:00

Well, I definitely had quite an optimistic tone in the last post, but it was legitimate; I wasn't putting on a front. But the last couple days have not been good and I'm really struggling with the effects of putting myself out there like that, being vulnerable, and being shot down. It was nice to have a friend listen to what I had to say, but realistically speaking, my attempt at getting what I needed failed. I've been alone these past two days with no follow-up calls. I expected this, but it still hurts.
People just don't know what depression really is. I got so angry at one of my friends the other day because she told me I needed to "look outside of myself" and stop "focusing on myself". If I dropped a brick on your toe, do you think it would be easy to stop thinking about yourself? No. The same goes for depression. And if I had a disease that wasn't "mental", how many people do you think would recommend charity work as the cure? Exactly.
I'm really pissed. I feel ashamed by what's happened. I feel humiliated. I just needed some help and it turned into this big fucking fiasco. Now I don't even want to see my friends. To hell with it all.

Mushoku

2010-02-04T14:38:00.000-08:00

Well, it's definitely been a long time since I last posted; over one year. But, that's the way journaling goes. There are months when you feel the need to journal everyday and months when you don't journal at all. Today is a day for journaling because I feel a little bit victorious, but only a little.
The past week has been hard. I've struggled with a level of depression I hadn't felt in a long time and it really scared me. I wondered how long it would last and how I could find relief. Today I had a therapy session and we talked about my cycle of making friends and then feeling completely unsatisfied because none of my needs are being met. Well, the main reason my needs aren't being met is because my inner voice keeps telling me that I don't have the right to ask for what I need. This voice tells me I am selfish and unworthy and even when I don't ask, I've already taken too much.
Today, I went out on a limb, exposed myself, risked vulnerability, and called three friends to tell them exactly what I needed. The first told me I was out of line and self-centered, the second didn't answer the phone, and the third listened and agreed with me. How's that for life? I took a risk, got rejected, got ignored, and then got a listening ear.
But what's so great about this is I feel so proud of myself for sticking my neck out and enduring a blatant rejection! My friend actually told me that I was being selfish. That's as big a blow as any and it really hurt. But you know what? That's exactly what I need to experience, rejection and slaps across the face. It's the only way to truly find what I need.
"Mushoku" is a song by a Japanese pop singer named Azumi Uehara. It means "Colorless". I listened to that song today and understood it better than I ever have before. It was beautiful.

The Disappointment

2008-12-29T19:40:00.001-08:00

Hello,
It's been a very long time since I've posted on this blog. It's not because things have gone well, rather, I go through periods when I just don't feel like journaling, privately or publicly. Anyways, I've accomplished many things in the last four months in terms of writing and even friendship. In November I met up with two cool guys here in town who I've connected with on an honest level. Both have similar illnesses as I do so we understand each other quite well. This past month has been a dream in the sense that I've experienced the kind of friendship that I've always wanted. But I fear that it is only temporary. One friend is planning on starting school this winter and the other will go back to work sooner or later. In my experience, such things usually put an end to hanging out on a regular basis.
But it's not just fear of the future that's bothering me, it's how my Christmas went this year. My sister visited for a week and everything went so well, until I told her I didn't want to go skiing. Apparently skiing was the one and only thing she really wanted to do and when I told her no she was very angry with me and left angry, leaving me feeling hurt in somewhat profound ways. I'm not sure how to process it all.
I saw my psychiatrist today and he mentioned prescribing me Lithium, but then said we should wait. I'm so freaking sick and tired of waiting! I don't care anymore, I just want to take the medication now and see what happens; I'm so full of drugs already it really doesn't matter anymore.
And my writing, the one thing that gives me relief and self-expression, is faltering. I can barely sit down and write a page let alone the ten pages I used to write a day. So my stories creep along and offer me no enjoyment whatsoever. My guess is I've been hit with anhedonia again and it kills me. So instead I've been watching movies everyday and smoking. It's hard to live this way. Perhaps I need to engage in a new hobby like cooking or taking up a new musical instrument. Whatever... I just need a distraction.

Some Answers At Least...

2008-08-18T20:50:00.000-07:00

Well, today I got a few answers as to why my condition is so...perplexing. You know although I've had depression for two years, my doctors have never been able to give me an accurate diagnosis. At one point it looked like bipolar, then I thought it was schizoaffective disorder, and now I'm quite sure it's pyschotic depression because I have depression and psychosis. But here's the interesting part. My doctor told me that even though I have psychosis with insight (like most people with psychotic depression), the nature of my psychosis is not typical for people with depression. For example, people with psychotic depression hear voices and have delusions that involve guilt, accusation, and otherwise "depressing" subjects. But my psychosis is nothing of the sort. I hear voices and have delusions involving WWII conspiracies, Nazi Germany, and Soviet Russia. Along with that I have delusions of grandeur and sometimes paranoia. And what's odd is that I still maintain my level of insight throughout it all.

It's as if I have symptoms of schizophrenia, psychotic depression, and maybe even bipolar, all wrapped into one big mess. Even my depression is "abnormal" in that instead of going through episodes, I've been continually depressed for over two years. It is quite disheartening to have doctors shrug after looking at the evidence. At least I have a little more understanding about the problem... When I see people with "normal" mental illness, it sometimes makes me angry because they're getting proper treatment and proper diagnoses. I almost envy them.

Ferocious

2008-07-27T15:42:00.000-07:00

Although I don't really watch or follow it, I'd have to say I admire MMA fighters. There's something about fighting that thrills me and I wish I could be a part of it. You know, back in May my plan was to earn several thousand dollars so I could fly to Thailand and learn Muay Thai. But that plan crashed and burned. I sort of expected it, but there are still times when I feel anger and pain over not being able to reach that goal. I was so positive and hopeful, but I fell as usual.
As much as I'd love to be a fighter and gain the respect and confidence I desire, I think God's plan for me is to write because it's the only thing I can do when I'm sick. And so, if writing is my life, then I will write with ferocity and put all that would-be energy from fighting into words on a page. My pen will be my weapon and I will knock my enemies senseless. I will win that championship title.

All Quiet on the Western Front

2008-07-20T22:03:00.000-07:00

My all time number one favorite book is All Quiet on the Western Front by Erich Maria Remarque. Reading this book is like reading my very own thoughts and feelings. The destruction of war and the loss of youth and life is so beautifully expressed in this book, and there are so many golden quotes that hit the nail on the head. When I read it, I feel empathy for Paul Bäumer and his comrades as they experience utter horror and sorrow in the trenches. This book just touches me like no other. And although it may seem sad, I love how the book ends, because through death Paul finds peace and the war finally comes to an end. I wouldn't necessarily recommend it to anyone I come across, but I just have to say it's powerful. It's a book that gives me feelings of comfort, relief, and peace.

Binge o' Music

2008-07-17T14:34:00.001-07:00

For the past week I've been on an Evanescence binge. I just love the album "The Open Door". My favorite songs are "The Only One", "Your Star", and pretty much all the rest. I think Evanescence combines the darker side of music with artistic talent into a beautiful gothic style piece of work. But it's not gothic like black clothes and junk, it's gothic like a medieval cathedral. It's just plain beautiful music. And what's interesting is that most people think such music will only make you more depressed. But in reality, this music expresses how I think and feel giving me a feeling of relief and satisfaction. I also love Hatebreed, which is less artistic, but still awesome. The lyrics really speak to me. I used to be afraid of secular music, but in the last two years I've come to realize that there is so much out there that can be beneficial, even if it isn't Christian. I would recommend this music to anyone who feels the way I do.

Freedom

2008-07-16T17:55:00.000-07:00

When I think about what happiness means to me, I think of freedom. I feel trapped by this sickness. I want to run away but I know it will only follow me. I feel trapped in a place where friends are very few and very far between. I'm a prisoner of guilt and shame, two things that never leave me alone, no matter what I do to pay them off. I'm a prisoner inside a body that never stops bleeding and a mind that always hurts. I think I know God's will for my life, but I'm too afraid to speak it for fear that others will not accept it. But what do I care if others don't accept my life? It's not theirs to live, right? I think God is forcing me to find joy in complete loneliness. And I must admit deep, deep inside there's a part of me that thanks God for all this. Everyone thinks school and work are life's most important things. I think, for me, it's just staying alive, whether alone or not. So happiness is not only freedom, but peace. One thing's for sure, I gotta stop listening to everything people say because most of it is crap...sorry, but not really. All I need to worry about is speaking my truth through writing. So far the pen has been my most loyal companion.

No Match for the Beast

2008-07-13T20:52:00.000-07:00

Many times I've reached out to others in an attempt gain some simple help. But just about every time I've received the same (sorry to admit it) useless advice that just doesn't cut it! So many times I've heard people tell me that depression is "selfish" and "lazy" and what I need to do is help others, get a job, make friends (like that's so easy), read my Bible, or simply "get rid" of the depression. Let me tell you something, I have listened with wide open ears to all of this advice and have put it to practice time and time again. But what I'm saying is it's just not working.

Today someone told me that what I'm looking for doesn't exist. So apparently, friends who aren't abusive, who listen wholeheartedly, who don't abandon me in my worst hour, and who actually talk and meet with me regularly, don't exist? Every freakin' person thinks that I'm looking for someone who's absolutely perfect, but I'm not! I'm just asking for a genuine friend who validates my problems. I'm not looking for someone who tells me I'm selfish and lazy because people like that are ignorant. And to those who think that this depression can just be thrown off, if you saw for one second the face of this beast you would shit yourself. Don't think this is just some sad feeling. Sadness is not depression! Depression is the weight of the world on your shoulders and heat from the fires of hell in your heart and soul. Don't fuck with it, it's serious business.

What Happened?

2008-06-12T19:55:00.000-07:00

So since my last post I've been on top of the world and now I'm back down in the trenches, home sweet home. At the very end of April I got super inspired by a book called A Fighter's Heart by Sam Sheridan. It's about how he travels around studying different forms of fighting like jiu-jitsu or MMA. Anyways, I thought to myself, "I want to travel to Thailand and do Muay Thai!" So within a week's time I found a job and started working to save up money so I could go to Thailand. A couple weeks after that I got this crazy idea to go to Puerto Rico instead, so I used the money I made to buy a plane ticket to Puerto Rico. Then, last week, I ended up quiting my job because my anxiety was sky-rocketing and my symptoms of depression/schizoaffective disorder were popping up... What in the world just happened?

What I want to say is I tried really hard to get out and stay out of depression this past month. I starting eating a healthy breakfast every morning, drinking yerba mate, exercising when possible, and thinking positively each day. I basically did everything I was supposed to do. I found a job, I took a class at the college, and so and so forth. So what's going on? Why am I depressed again? Why am I still struggling? I felt like the darkness crept up and pounced on me and I didn't stand a chance. I did everything right, right? I just don't understand. I'm not in despair, I'm just confused. I think I need to finally come to grips with the fact that I struggle with an illness. This is not something I made up. This is not something I put myself through for kicks. I have a real illness. It's something to think about...

In the meantime, I found a band called Hatebreed that I think's pretty cool.

Dead Poetic

2008-03-05T22:21:00.000-08:00

Hi everyone,
It's been awhile since my last post and right now I just feel like telling you about Dead Poetic. Dead Poetic is one of my very favorite bands and lately I've been listening to their music a ton. They have three albums: Four Wall Blackmail, New Medicines, and Vices. I have the last two albums but I'll be buying the first one soon. Their music is hard rock in style and as their name entails they are quite poetic. I just find their music very moving, inspirational, and it all around makes me feel better.

Depression can be scary. Yesterday I really felt like I was in a hole and it scared me because it seemed like there was no way out. But I must remind myself and you that there's always a way out, and a healthy one at that. Don't let your emotions deceive you into thinking this is it. Even when I go through such experiences it's hard for me bypass my depressed feelings and see hope. But depression for me isn't always scary, sometimes I am able to turn it into something beautiful. Sometimes depression is like a beautiful darkness and it's during those times when I am able to write and write well. I don't romanticize or idealize depression, but I do look at it as the way I am and basically live the motto "if life gives you lemons, make lemonade". Dead Poetic helps me live that way in a positive light. And for that I am thankful.

Rock Bottom

2008-02-07T22:39:00.000-08:00

Since New Year's I've been on a steady decline from "Feeling good, thanks," to "Woe is me." I can't really say if it's all due to medication changes or events in life, but it's probably a combination of both. Today I really hit bottom, or at least the ledge just above "bottom". For a while a laid in bed and tried to cry, but after an hour of that I got up, brushed myself off and went about my day as best as I could. That's the trick when you hit rock bottom, you have to get up, and what's great about it is that "up" is the only place to go.

I'm still sticking to the truth that you have to find those moments of peace, especially during these low times. Today I felt that moment of peace just by looking at the picture I have for my desktop background. It's the scene of a huge mountain during summer and it truly takes me away from where I am now. I guess what I need to do now is just push through, up and over, through the darkness, until I find the light.

Head Over Heals for a Scottish Lass

2008-01-18T01:29:00.000-08:00

I just need to announce to everyone that I really love the music of KT Tunstall. I want to encourage all who are reading this to check out her music, especially her new album Drastic Fantastic. I started listening to KT Tunstall about a year ago with her first album Eye to the Telescope, which is just awesome. She has a calming yet energetic style and it simply inspires me to keep dancing even during tough times. It also ignites the passion that I have for writing and creating my own form of art through stories and journaling. Her music is just something special and I think listening to it is definitely a great way to combat whatever symptoms you might be dealing with. So, give her a try, check out her music, and "suddenly you'll see" what I'm talking about. Cheers!

For The Love of So-Cal

2008-01-13T23:52:00.000-08:00

Hi Everyone,

A moment ago I was watching some No Doubt music videos on DVD. No Doubt is one of my favorite bands as they really possess a unique California-type style. Their genre is called ska and it's like a variant of rock, at least, that's how I think of it. But whatever their style, I love this band because it brings up fond memories of California, the 90s, and just good times. Actually, when I listen to their songs, I feel an urge to go back to Los Angeles, which is where I was from June to October of '06. I had made an effort to live in L.A. and start a new life there, but those plans got hijacked by our beloved depression; I told you, it's a bitch! I made the decision to move back to Washington in October because my illness was getting way out of hand and I really had no one to adequately help me support myself in L.A. Back in Washington though, I have my parents who thankfully are able to support me. So anyways, as I was listening to No Doubt, I felt my heart being pulled back to California. It might be a long shot, but my goal for this new year is to slowly rehabilitate myself to the point where I can function well enough to live independently in Los Angeles. Whether that be through finding the right medication, getting a manageable part-time/volunteer job, or just finding the right people on whom I can rely on, I want to return to the sun and surf of Southern California. In all honesty, I can only pray that I will be able to reach this goal and I really don't know what God's plan is for all this. I can only live from day to day at this point as everything is so unpredictable. But, that's what I like about God, He is unpredictable and yet His plan for things is always better than anything I might think up.

Validation, My Most Sought After Prize

2008-01-12T01:18:00.000-08:00

Here's a tough subject: validation. And by "tough" I mean that this word really touches some sensitive nerves in me. It is validation that I seek and desire most in regards to my illness. But it is validation that I seem to always lack. Validation is like a Christmas present; I eagerly await it with joy and anticipation and when I open it up I find it is exactly what I wished for. Validation gives me a feeling of peace, a peace in knowing that someone else actually believes me and understands my struggle. But why is validation so hard for me to come by? I believe it is so scarce because mental illness is so stigmatized by society and so...out there. It is sincerely hard for people (and sometimes myself) to believe or understand things like delusions, hallucinations, depersonalization, anhedonia, and whatever else have you. And so, only those who have either studied or experienced mental illness can give validation, but it is still hard to find. Of course, one might say, what about self-validation? As far as validating oneself, I would have to say it only goes so far. I mean, sure, I can reassure myself that what I'm experiencing is real and worth attention, but if no one else thinks that then where does that leave me? I cannot treat myself, I am not a psychiatrist. To put all this in real life terms, I've been wanting a solid diagnosis from my doctor for about four months because receiving a diagnosis is for me a form of validation. A diagnosis tells me what my problem is and gives me a route to take in the way of treatment and coping methods. It basically gives credibility to the symptoms I experience. I've been patient and I've been polite, but as my state of mind and body slowly goes haywire, I want answers. I think it's high time I be a little assertive.

On a side note, I found an excellent website on schizophrenia and it's types, symptoms, treatments, and whatnot. I found this website to be quite validating and so I posted a link to it on one of the side bars below. The site is called helpguide.org and I hope it can be as much service to you as it was for me.

My "American" Dream

2008-01-10T00:01:00.000-08:00

Last night I watched one of my all time favorite movies, The Sound of Music. This movie has always touched me in a special way with not only the great music but also the beautiful scenery of Austria and the love between Maria, Captain Von Trapp, and their 7 children. The very last scene is the most breathtaking where the family is fleeing the Nazis by traveling to Switzerland over the mountains on foot. Now, a long time ago I read the autobiography of Maria Von Trapp and in reality the family did not escape across the mountains in such a dramatic fashion, but it's still very dear to me. I don't know what it is, but it seems that anything having to do with Austria, Switzerland, Bavaria, and the Alps just fills me up with a special feeling of peace, inspiration, and joy. When I look at pictures of the Alps or think about things like lederhosen and Oktoberfest, or study the German language, I feel some relief from my own troubles. Such thoughts and pictures also give me something to look forward to as one day I hope to go to these places. It's almost as if Austria and Switzerland are my "American dream". It's a place where I can prosper and fulfill my purpose in life and be free from oppression and bondage...interesting, wouldn't you say? My illness is like an oppression that I long to escape and be free from.

Sometimes I feel so down in the dumps, nothing seems to help. But during such times I can look at pictures; pictures of the past, pictures of friends and family, and pictures of dreams, like Austria and the Alps. Sometimes such pictures are like a tiny glimmer of hope when all else seems to fail. What I want most though is my voice to be heard by others, a voice that is calling for help. The very reason I created this blog was to not only speak my own voice, but perhaps give a voice to others who cannot find the words to say or write. Perhaps what I need is an alphorn with which I can bellow across the mountains, my voice echoing for all to hear.

Good Times, Hard Times

2008-01-02T22:00:00.000-08:00

Well, the holidays are over, and I'm happy to say that I actually miss them this year. I had an absolutely wonderful Christmas with my sister and her husband. We spent a lot of time together hanging out at home watching The Office, spending a day in Seattle, and playing Spinner, among other things. I was a little sad to see them leave. I didn't know my brother-in-law very well before he came here, but now I know he likes The Office and Family Guy, which is all I need to know! For our Christmas Eve dinner I tried a new recipe using salt cod. It's called Pescado a la Vizcaina and it's eaten in Mexico and Spain on this day. It was delicious!
But the fun didn't end there. For New Year's Eve, I hung out at home with my parents and invited one of my good friends over to watch the fireworks from Seattle on TV. We drank sparkling apple cider and after the fireworks watched The Cutting Edge, which is an awesome movie. It really brought back feelings of the "good 'ol days" and we all really enjoyed it. It was a great holiday season and I'm proud of myself for how well I held things together. But now I'm faced with those after-holiday-blues and once again I'm forced to figure out how to cope. These mental illnesses seem to have a thousand facets to them. There are so many shades of depression and so many states of mind that can be experienced. Each one requires its own survival manual and it's tiring and frustrating beyond belief. I'm thankful though that I had a wonderful holiday season and am feeling crummy afterwards because I would rather have it this way than to have a crummy holiday season and feel "okay" afterwards. Perhaps this is a new lesson to be learned. Next year, I will plan ahead for both the good times of Christmas and New Year's and the letdown afterwards. Just something to keep in mind... Happy New Year.

Estoy bien, gracias.

2007-12-21T01:43:00.000-08:00

Things have been alright for the past couple weeks. I haven't experienced any bouts of depression nor any major psychosis. Now, wait a minute! I thought I just had depression. Nope. Actually, I have something more than just depression. My doctor doesn't want to diagnose it yet, but as my "other" symptoms have been going on for the past five months, I'm guessing it's somewhere along the lines of schizoaffective disorder, based on my own research and observation. There, the truth is out! But don't worry, the purpose of this blog is still mainly for talking about depression and things related. And speaking of things related...

I'm still actively pursuing my routine hobbies of writing, studying languages, listening to music, and some reading, too. In the past week I've started delving into Spanish through books, magazines, and music. I studied Spanish in grade school, high school, and college, so I have a very strong base in this language. The truth though is that I never really had an interest in pursuing it, until now. I realized that I have a good knowledge of Spanish and so all I need to do is practice it. I started reading the first book in the Series of Unfortunate Events in Spanish and was surprised to find that I understood a lot. I also found some very good latino music and am enjoying it very much. All in all, I'm continuing to find new interests and new ways of coping with my illness. I'm happy to say it's been quite successful. As for German, I'm still studying that, too, but I need to find some music to go with it. So far I've only found a young group of German folk singers called die Grubertaler who sound good but will take some getting used to. German folk is a very different style of music! Feliz Navidad!

Relief Work

2007-12-09T22:54:00.000-08:00

Today I realized that finding and maintaining a sense of emotional and mental relief and stability is hard work. This past week I've immersed myself in German, as I stated in the previous post, all for the sake of finding relief from the depression and other crazy symptoms I experience. Ironically, I feel stressed from all this "relief work" and it's been difficult to keep myself from blowing up at people over the littlest things. It's strange, but I feel like I've been lost in my own daydreams and today I came back to reality, at least for the time being. I also realized that what I'm seeking the most is not happiness, but relief. This depression is painful on so many levels and it's a blessing to just not have to feel that pain, but at the same time, it's difficult to go so long without feeling truly happy. Honestly, it's been over a year and a half (and counting) since I've felt real happiness. What I wouldn't give...

Daydreaming in Deutsch

2007-12-09T00:55:00.000-08:00

It's been about a week since my last post and I'm happy to say things have been alright lately. I've been feeling pretty good emotionally, and by that I mean I haven't had any spells of depression. Now, I don't exactly feel happy, but I do feel okay, which is about as good as I can ask for. I think one reason I've been doing better is that I've been busying myself with things I enjoy. I love mountains, especially in the winter, and when I think of mountains I also think about places like Germany, Austria, or Switzerland. As I've said in earlier posts, I like studying languages and other cultures, and so I've decided to start studying German. When I think about the Alps, German, skiing, and snow, I feel calm and relaxed. Basically, rather than just think about German mountains and winter stuff, why not do something with it? So, that's why I started studying the language and I even spent some time putting together a little poster with pictures of Germany and Austria. Now, when I look at this poster, I can get a feeling of peace and inspiration to continue learning more about these countries and their language. And thankfully, my mind isn't so cloudy and disorganized, so I'm actually able to study and read. I'm not sure exactly what's going on, but my guess is I'm experiencing a period of relief from my symptoms. It's a good thing, as Martha Stewart would say =). Anyways, I'm actually looking forward to Christmas because my sister and her husband will be visiting. I thought I would be dreading the holidays, but thankfully, it's the opposite.

Confidence Challenged

2007-12-02T00:46:00.000-08:00

If there's anything that depression can take away, it's confidence. I don't feel confident in myself because of my emotional and mental instability and therefore I'm hesitant to do things that might upset my fragile state. But I'm not just talking about the confidence to put myself out there and do things, I'm also talking about self-confidence in such things as talents and abilities. Depression tends to create negative thoughts in my mind that tell me a multitude of bad things. It can create feelings of guilt, shame, self-hatred, and a host of other rather masochistic ideas. I love to write; it's the best way for me to express myself and turn my feelings and thoughts into something artistic. I want to share my writings with the world and help others through the stories I create. For some reason, I have a lot of confidence in my writing and confidence in the idea that I can get published and become known. But sometimes, that confidence is attacked by negative thoughts and feelings. Perhaps someone who read my story didn't understand it, or perhaps they offered more criticism than praise. Whatever it is, sometimes my self-confidence can be challenged by everyday things and it is at that point where I have to step in and challenge those challenges. I have to remind myself that I love writing and I am good at writing. It is a gift of mine and I believe my writing will one day be known in the world. I have a passion for this, and this passion is for speaking my truth and helping others in the process. This blog, for example, is one way for me to share my truth and display my writing skills, at least in a journaling sense. So if there are ever times when your dreams, talents, or gifts are challenged by the negativity in the world, take a deep breath and remind yourself that your passions and your goals are valuable and worth it. Don't let depression silence the real person inside of you, don't let it silence your dreams and goals.

Let's Be Real...

2007-11-27T20:48:00.000-08:00

I've noticed that in most of my posts I've ended with a very hopeful statement. But I want to make note of the fact that when I am truly feeling depressed, it seems there is no hope. One of my most prominent symptoms is extreme anhedonia (the inability to enjoy things). If you've ever experienced this, you know it makes life feel completely dead. When I am unable to enjoy anything, it feels like there's no point in life. Sometimes, when I've had a long spell of severe depression, I begin to get physically sick, like I mentioned in my first post. My point is, it's important to be real. I need to be real with myself and with you. Depression is not just some "bad" feelings that can be brushed off with a pat on the back. No, depression is a serious darkening of the mind, heart, and soul. It's not something to be taken lightly and I just want you to know that I'm well aware of how grave this illness can be.

Delayed Until Further Notice

2007-11-27T00:32:00.000-08:00

One of the most frustrating things about depression is its wonderful way of disabling a person. Last summer, when my depression started, I was full of determination to reach the goals I had made for myself and looking forward to my future plans. I am someone who loves languages and ever since I was in first grade I've been exploring foreign languages and cultures. In recent years, I've put a serious amount of time and effort into languages like Japanese and Arabic. Last summer I was intent on finishing an Arabic textbook I was using, which would give me a good working knowledge of the language. I remember trying hard to keep studying, but slowly, my energy, concentration, and ability to enjoy things faded away, leaving me with no resources to reach my goal. I never finished that textbook and since then I've hardly done any studying whatsoever. That summer I was also excited for school to begin because I had been accepted at Hawaii Pacific University and couldn't wait to be there. In August '06 I had to make the hard decision of whether or not to go. I decided not to for my own safety; the depression was too great to handle on my own. Sometimes I just want to scream at how this depression has created such a seemingly nasty turn for my life. But I really don't know what the future holds, so I can't let myself despair just yet... I guess the big lesson I'm learning is patience. Mental illness, at least for some people, can take a long time to get under control. I still haven't found the right medications or treatment in general. I feel pressure to get my life back on track, but the truth is that I can't make anything happen. I can't force my brain to start working correctly. This doesn't mean it's hopeless, it just means there are some things out of my control. But in the big picture of things, if I have to take a couple years off to get better, so what? I'll have definitely learned a hell of a lot of life lessons during those years and my studies will always be there when I'm ready.

Family Ties

2007-11-23T22:17:00.001-08:00

Today I went to the movie theater with my family and saw Dan in Real Life. It was a really great movie, and definitely "family friendly". The style of the movie was rather interesting and by that I mean the plot wasn't what you usually might find in a romantic comedy movie. What was great was that it was very decent and the humor was good-natured and not the same old trashy crap. Plus, I like Steve Carell and Dane Cook's pretty good too. Anyways, this movie presented a very close-knit family in New England. They basically had a reunion and did all kinds of things together: games, meals, outdoor activities, and even a family talent show. This family had traditions in which everyone was included; each member was important. Sometimes I get really nostalgic for my childhood; I'm talking about between the ages of three and ten, when everything was "right". I have very fond memories of being with my two older sisters, summers with my grandparents, and at least one white Christmas with my aunt, uncle, and cousins. These are the days I truly long for because so much has changed since then. I'm only 20 years old, so it wasn't too long ago, relatively speaking. Since then, grandparents have passed away, cousins have moved out and gotten married, and I missed my family reunion last summer for no other reason than I just didn't feel very good (and reunions almost never happen). Not only has my family spread out and moved on (so to speak), but my own change of developing a mental illness has great impacted my relationship with family members. I feel uncomfortable, irritable, ashamed, patronized, and just plain anti-social due to this illness. I feel hurt by some members of my family because they don't understand my problem and so they often say the wrong thing. I feel like the closeness, the ties I once had with them, have been broken. I guess the next step though is to figure out how to develop new ties. My hope and dream for the future is that I can have a family of my own and in so doing, create an entirely new set of "nostalgic" memories. I truly am hopeful that this brokenness can be rebuilt.

The Holidays

2007-11-22T16:11:00.001-08:00

I've always looked forward to the holidays with anticipation and excitement. During such days, my family and I get together with friends and relatives and celebrate over big meals and, during Christmas, presents. But last year, after being diagnosed with depression, my holiday experience was horrible, to say the least. I don't even remember Thanskgiving, but I do remember Christmas and New Year's. My sister came home for a visit, which I usually look forward to, but this time, everything was different. I was no longer happy to see my sister, no longer excited for presents and food and holiday cheer. In fact, the week surrounding Christmas was one of the darkest times I've ever been through. And when New Year's rolled around shortly after, I was truly despondent. Why? A big reason was because I felt abandoned. During the holidays, everyone is busy spending time with friends and family and preparing for the big day. I had no one to call and ask for help, no one to seek support from. Besides, who would want to deal with a depressed person during such a "happy" time? Perhaps it was just my own perception that no one would want to help, but I think it's true that people don't want to be bothered with rather macabre things during the holidays. The truth I learned that year was that pain and suffering don't take a holiday... And so, I waited in despair for the holidays to be over with so I could go on seeking support that wasn't even there to begin with. It was truly a dreadful time.

This year though, I am trying my best to keep calm during the holidays. Today is Thanksgiving and I'm keeping an eye out for any wayward thoughts or emotions because I want to truly be thankful by the end of the day. This year, I plan on creating my own "space" where I can retreat to when things start getting stressful. All in all, I want to fight against the urge to break down and instead be present with my family. Although it will be a challenge, I refuse to let my problem ruin another holiday season.

Ashamed

2007-11-21T16:49:00.000-08:00

Shame is a terrible thing when left to roam out of control. It likes to feed off of any memory, moment, or situation when one is exposed. It grows wild in places where people are taught by others to be ashamed of themselves. There are some who are spoon-fed shame as babies and later soak it in through osmosis as they go through life and meet people crawling with shame. It's like a contagious disease and once you catch it, it can threaten your life.
In my own life and in my own experiences, I have felt shame so overwhelming it's like my head is in the mouth of a beast. That beast is shame, and that beast feeds off of my depression. Depression, along with any mental illness, can be extremely shameful due to the stigmatism and false beliefs held by others. I'm talking about when family members tell me they don't believe I have an illness or when my parents get so afraid of me hurting myself I'm treated like a ten year-old and not the adult that I am. I feel shame from being patronized by not only family, but also doctors and nurses. But I think the main source of shame is from myself. I look at myself and I look at this illness and I see how incapacitated I've become. I can't work or go to school because I'm not stable enough and that makes me feel ashamed because I'm not living up to everyone's "standards". When people I love and trust question the validity of my illness, it hurts me and puts me to shame. What I want most during these difficult times is validation. I want someone to believe me and help me and accept the limitations I have. Validation. Remember that the next time you meet a victim of shame.

Alternative Therapy

2007-11-20T23:03:00.000-08:00

I'm sure you've all heard about "alternative medicine". Well, today I visited a store that sells relaxation products and services as my own way of exploring alternative methods to coping with depression. I realize that alternative and naturopathic medicine cannot really cure mental illness, but I believe it can help with the symptoms of illnesses like depression. About six or seven months ago, I visited a naturopathic doctor several times to see what he could do with my depression. He told me that he could not prescribe anything that could cure it, but he could give me something to help with symptoms like fatigue. I was given things like DHEA supplements to help my body produce more energy, Cod liver oil to help with mood, and an adrenal tonic to help support the adrenal glands during my many moments of emotional stress. I tried these things for a while but saw no noticeable improvement. Anyways, back in the relaxation store, I decided I wanted something to just plain help me relax for a moment. There were candles, incense, massagers, fountains, and other soothing products. One that I found interesting was something called "Chromotherapy", the use of light as a means of energizing or healing the body. It was basically an oil lamp that, when lit, had a colored flame like green, pink, or red. I chose the green lamp as it supposedly helps with "healing" and whatnot. I'm sure you've heard of aromatherapy, so I also picked out a couple incense sticks to place in my room. The scent was "Indian Summer". Along with those things, I had my eye on a miniature lava lamp, which I found mesmerizing to watch. Another alternative method I recently discovered was coffee. Now, you might think coffee, being a stimulant, could only add to feelings of stress, but for some reason I find regular coffee calming and it allows me to focus more. I must admit, my illness is more than just a diagnosis of depression. Unfortunately, depression is only part of my mental problem. But for now, let's just focus on this part, as there is a lot to say and a lot to do about it.

Survival

2007-11-20T00:56:00.000-08:00

Right now, my life is about survival. Think of depression as a beast, a beast that is way beyond your control and too powerful to simply "think" away. Positive thoughts along with exercise and a good diet are great, but for me, these things can only get me through the moment; depression is still waiting, still attacking at the end of the day. Depression could also be likened to a great oppression of the mind, heart, and spirit. It's like a black cloud or a deep, dark canyon. I don't know how I ended up in this canyon and I don't know how to get out. Canyons can be scorching in the day and freezing at night. Depression has many faces and many tricks up its sleeve. There are many shades of darkness and many ways it expresses itself. During the times when the beast is on the warpath in that dark canyon, it is all I can do to find a hiding place and wait out the battle. It sounds easy enough in this context, but when you think about this beast and this canyon being inside oneself, it's hard to imagine how one could survive. How can you find shelter and safety from a beast that's inside you? How can you just "wait out" the battle if the battle is against yourself. You can't really, but what you can do is find distraction. When the battle gets hot, I turn to distractions 'till things cool down. Basically, I entertain myself with movies, games, TV, and whatever else I can find. And out of all the skills I've learned to deal with depression and whatnot, it is distraction that seems to work the best. Actually, one of the best distractions and expressions I find is through writing. Writing in my journal or writing stories and poems is so far the best coping method I have when I'm suffering through hell. Depression really is suffering and it really is hell. Sometimes I want to give up and let myself be taken by the beast, but then I tell myself that there is hope ahead. I refuse to lie down and die like so many people have done. I want to live and defeat this monster in me.

Psychosomatics and the Great Incomprehensible

2007-11-19T00:32:00.001-08:00

If you've ever taken a psychology class you may be familiar with the basics about depression, bipolar disorder, and maybe even schizophrenia. You may also know a little bit about the workings of the brain and how that corresponds with mental illness. But despite having all of that knowledge about human behavior and the workings of the mind, what really matters is when you really experience what's written in those textbooks. I have found that unless someone has experienced mental illness personally or in a friend or loved one, they truly cannot understand what it is, even if that person is a psychiatrist. I have met doctors who just don't get it. They just don't understand the pain and horror that depression can cause and they seem rather apathetic in an otherwise desperate situation. I want to scream, jump up and down, wave my arms, and cry for help in front of these doctors, but all they can do is calmly prescribe a new medication or a new dosage and then force you to wait and see what happens...

When depression is at its worst, when it feels pitch black inside, physical symptoms begin to appear. I'm no psychologist or psychiatrist, but I do know that physical symptoms caused by mental stress are referred to as "psychosomatic". For me, I begin to feel nauseous and often throw up because, to put it simply, it hurts so much. The pain depression causes is like a deep emotional ache and is like a "thing" that oppresses the heart and mind. I may also feel as if I'm coming down with the flu; my throat will become sore and I'll feel sick all over, with chills and the like. But because it's all psychosomatic, I never actually develop the flu.

I feel as if I could talk and talk for days on end, trying to explain and describe mental illness to the people around me. But I know that it will be in vain, because for some reason, they just can't comprehend it, even when they see the physical symptoms taking their toll. Why can't I just be happy? Why can't I feel good? Why can't I just get better? Only someone with depression could understand why.

Introduction

2007-11-15T21:54:00.000-08:00

Hi Everyone,
First off, I just want to introduce to you my blog dedicated to expressing the pain, frustration, fears, and setbacks of depression and mental illness in general. This is a place for me to talk about my own present-day journey with this problem and a place for you to offer comments, advice, and even your own stories. To put things simply, I hate depression and what it's done in my life and what it does to me and I want to share my thoughts and feelings about it and build support for people like me. Someday, I want to help others out there who have similar issues and let them know that they are truly not alone. Mental illnesses are truly a bitch, and I have a lot to say about them, so let's start! Oh, and by the way, my name's Cuchulainn (COO-hull-in) and I'm pleased to meet you.