Talk About It Tuesday - What My Depression Looks Like

 

"Can you take the Boy in to school this morning? "

"I'm sorry, I didn't get anything done."

"The kids deserve a better mom."

These are just some of the phrases that come from me when I'm feeling depressed.  Of course, I don't always call it depression.  I'm "down" or "feeling off" or, most often, "broken".  But they all equal the same thing: me feeling like I'm a failure and having difficulty pushing past it to do anything and hating myself for everything.  It doesn't matter if it's my fault or not. I'll take the blame anyway.

I've heard many times over the years that I don't act like I'm depressed.  I can laugh and smile, chatter away at people.  I can be out in public, talking to strangers and laughing with friends.  But inside, I'm berating myself for being fake, wishing I could leave, wanting to be anywhere else.  And then spending the next several days hiding in my room, just existing, playing braindead games and not even reading.   Not initiating interaction with  my kids or my husband because of the conviction that they are better off when I'm away from them.

My kids know when the depression is really hitting.  It's when I even get hugs from Pete as he tells me he loves me.  Where Tedd comes in to hug for several minutes.  They try to do things to help me out - not fighting about getting school or housework done, not fighting in general.  And it does help a little.  Just not enough to pully me fully out of it.

It never comes on all of a sudden or leaves that way.  The days just gradually get harder to deal with, and then, eventually, gradually get easier.  Being on my cocktail of medications means these days don't happen as often as they used to, but they still do happen.  They don't last as long, but they do still last.  I'm learning (even after 20+ years being on some of them) that they aren't magic pills.  But they help.

This is a post that I've been wanting to write for awhile.  Every week on my Blog planner, I have writing about Depression for my Tuesday post.  And it's hard to write about, so I end up not writing the rest of the week's post either.  Then I try again on Monday and... 

But I had to get this out here.  It's not the best post I've ever written.  I'm not sure if it's exactly what I wanted to say about my depression.  But it's something.  And sometimes, giving 10% is ok, because it's better than 0%.  I'm learning to forgive myself for what I don't do, and to accept what I do manage to complete as the gift that it is.  

I'm not perfect, but I'm learning how to deal with me.