Posted by Shame on March 15, 2005, at 10:54:44
What follows is an unstructured rambling. A release of the thought in my head. Nothing groundbreaking here.
I don't think healthy people understand the slavery associated with depression. They assume that it's somehow something we choose, and that watching a their favorite episode of Seinfeld will make us feel all better. Like we didn't think of that. Thanks jackass.
Every day I go to work with people who complain about their lives. Their jobs. Their families. I cannot complain about any of these things. By all rights I should be a happy person. I love my wife, my job, my Bassett Hound, my car.
The girl in the front office takes one Prozac a day, and can't shut up about how hard her life is, and how depressed she is to be her. The Prozac is the only thing that gets her by. What a hero. I know I should find an ironic humor in that as I shovel a handful of pills down my throat every lunch time, but all it does is anger me. Don't like your life? Change it. Maybe she should have clawed her way through college too.
No one here at works knows anything about what I go through on a daily basis. I like it like that. I can safely post my anonymous rants here on Dr Bob, get my feelings out, and move on. Make my mind a quiet place for a few hours.
My mind. As horribly broken as it is, it's my strongest asset. All of my therapists have commented on it. My strong communication skills. My grasp of abstract concepts. Knowledge. My job. So do the two go hand in hand, my sickness and my intelligence? Take one away, do you loose the other? What a sick joke that would be, to damn a man to state where he is unable to appreciate his own accomplishments.
Once again, time is short. 90 miles to the Psychiatrist today, and then 90 miles back. I would call it a game of chess, one calculated move at a time... Change this medicine, pull this memory, explore this though. The truth is its more like bingo. A game of luck, each person waiting patiently for their therapist to call out the correct medication.
First Prozac. Effexor! Zoloft? Welbutrin. Paxil... On it winds until someone jumps up. BINGO!
Cured. Out the door. Now give the rest of us a chance.
poster:Shame
thread:471271
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/write/20050211/msgs/471271.html