Posted by annalaura on July 3, 2001, at 5:46:11
In reply to Re: Why should i go on?, posted by sar on July 3, 2001, at 1:06:58
> Hey, baby.
>
> I understood your e-mail very well...your descriptions so vividly match what I've felt in myself for so long that I wish you were here with me right now, 'cos I'd pour you a bottle of port wine and bring you a blanket and a shoulder to cry on.
>
> Unfortunately, this is the technofuckinlogical phase, but no, thank god for computers & this site.
>
> Are you on medication? Do you see a psychologist? Do you have a significant other to help you through this?
>
> One day a couple of months ago I was at a shopping mall, hairy-legged and worn out, unbathed, watching the gold-haired shoppers whiz by in Steve Maddens and I wanted to run up to everyone and scream "I'M GOING TO DIE! WE'RE ALL GOING TO! HOW CAN THIS GO ON? I HURT..."
>
> I'm scared for you, Anna Laura. It's extremely difficult to function or see any light when feeling so hollow and hopeless. Is there anything that makes you feel better? Driving, walking, singing? A few months ago, after tearing myself to shreds in my mind all day for a year, I went on a long stoned drive and made myself speak aloud for 20 minutes or so about Good Things. not furry kittens and cupcakes or any of that shit, but trying to recall the most positive events of my life--getting in to the college I most wanted to go to, my accepting nature, blah blah blah...it's tough. I'd have never been able to do it sober, but it turned out to be quite self-indulgently fun.
>
> I am SUCH a self-help book waiting to happen. Lawdy lawd.
>
> (puking)
>
> I don't know you or what you like to do, but I want to share with you something that's helped me--other people. Not necessarily going out with them, calling them up etc, but at my job I have to interact with alot of customers and--well, some of them are so funny they just make me grin so much, especially the shy children and funny old men.
>
> People who don't understand mental illness don't understand mental illness, and I feel sorry for the shortsighted ones because they've cut themselves off from an entire range of human feeling--not that anyone *wants* to be depresst (hells no) but understanding the nature of the beast is part of understanding humanity.
>
> i feel like i'm getting too port-winely philosophical, and klonopin is making me an optimistic idiot.
>
> Have you the money and time for a vacation? If you do, maybe it would help to see the beach or mountains or fancy stores or haystacks or whatever else you dig...
>
> I'm going on and on because I relate to your post so much, Anna Laura, and I wish you the best. You don't have to hide as much as you do, I'd think...depression is the "common cold of mental illnesses"...some people around you might be experiencing soemthing similar. I recently made the decision to tell my closest friends and parents that I'm crazy-anxious-depressed, and I'm so surprised what good has come of it. I wouldn't tell just anyone, only the ones I know who are true to me, but friends are friends are friends...and family is family, man. I don't know about your family, but mine have been incredibly supportive. These are people who abused & neglected me the entire time I was growing up, but now they're paying off my speeding tickets, psych bills, etc etc.
>
> I wish the best for you, babe. Please keep posting. Can you tell more? What do you thinki is at the root of your depression? (A myriad of things, I'm sure, but you know that you're in a safe, supportive, fairly anonymous environment, so I hope you'll share.)
>
> Take care.
>
> sarI just wanted to say: thank you Sar.
I believe the root of my depression comes from child abuse: i was abused by my mother who whipped me every day with a belt, kept locked in inside a closet for hours, made me eat my vomit, etc.....
I grew oversensitive because of that, and as a young adult took wrong decisions, (ran away from home, married when i was 18), i was dealing with abusive people,(alcholics just like my mother) just repeating the trauma over and over again. When i finally understood what my problem was it was too late: strangely, after a wonderful year, the best of my life, during which i met the "right" people, i got depressed. I probably "stored" too much anguish and despair i guess. Even if i was experiencing good things from life, finally being fine, the "Pandora box" opened up no matter what, and i crushed down, a September morning of 1990. I woke up and i was another person. A few months later
i met a wonderful guy: we lived together for five years: he was very understanding/loving, replacing the role my mother never played: but sad thing to say, it WAS TOO LATE. He soothed my wounds, it's true, but they were way too deep to get totally cured i guess. Again, it was too late.
He made me mature though, and made me feel good in spite of the depression i suffered from: he was as sweet as a mother could be. The saddest thing of all is that he is very very sick (aids). I'm grieving over this, and this grief makes things worse; now it's more difficult than ever to shake this monster off my shoulders. He got meningitis, he risked to die; he recovered from that, but his personality changed abruptly: now he is another person. At times he's strangely euphoric, speed-talking, almost hypomanic.
Most of the times he's rude and mean: he's no longer the sweet person he used to be: i'm missing the person he used to be so terribly: at times this "loss" is driving me insane.
You asked me if i'm on medications: i'm currently taking amytryptiline, brand name Laroxyl (not sure if i spelled that right), levosulpiride (atypical antypsychotic like Amisulpride) and a compound called lymbitril which is a mixture of amytryptiline and a benzo.
They made me recover from the major psychotic depression bout i had last winter, but i'm still anhedonic (not feeling anything, not enjoying anything whatsoever).
As far as my parents/relatives are concerned, i have to conceal my depression because they tried to lock me up in to an asylum years ago. That's why i can't talk about my illness. My sister is the only one who cares.
The Mental Health Istitution have information about my "illness" (i got psychotic in 1993), i just can't afford showing any sign of discomfort (one of the reason why i gotta wear this mask). I can't afford doing what other people do when they're unleashing their rage/discomfort. If i scream on the streets or kick, let's say, a carbage can, and somebody calls the police, i end up being locked up in some state asylum.
My actual fianceé says i'm too paranoid about that, and that i'm exaggerating, still, it's difficult for me letting myself go. I don't want to harm anybody, just kicking things, shouting, express my discomfort, and it's bad to feel the constraint and the constant pressure i can't do that instead.
Well, that's all i guess.
Thanks againAnna Laura
poster:annalaura
thread:7004
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/social/20010628/msgs/7018.html