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Re-doing the future...
Please bare with me as blogging is not my greatest talent. Opening up and expressing myself has always been something I'm not great at either. This week has been a tough one for me, so this will most likely be a venting blog. A apologize ahead of time for this blog having no point, and also for it's randomness. I have honestly debated for a long time about whether to post this or not. I ultimately decided to because I thought maybe there would be at least person that can relate.
A little back story:
In Oct. 2001 I was diagnosed with a chemical imbalance (depression and severe anxiety), and hospitalized at the age of 14. I can remember every minute, hour, day, week and month that I spent there as if it were yesterday. When I was younger I always wondered why I was always so sad. I knew I was different from other kids because they were happy, and I wasn't. My whole life I have lived under a grey cloud that weighs me down everyday. When I was younger I tried to kill the sadness with drugs and alcohol. They gave me relief, but that relief was always short lived. As soon as my buzz or high wore off, there I was again back under my cloud.
I know a lot of people suffer from depression these days, but it is still a subject that is not talked about enough. A lot of times the ones who talk about it only suffer from temporary depression, or a mild form that was brought on by a sad event. They go through their depression, and then they get over it. I wish I could say it was that way for me, but unfortunately it's not. When I was diagnosed, I was given a pill and sent on my way. Back then it was shameful to take an anti-depressant. I kept my hospital stay quiet, and only my 3 best friends and close family knew about it. Other "friends" from school were told many different stories, but no one knew for sure what was going on.
It took a few different pills to get the right fit for me, but after a couple months it was helping. This may sound strange to those who don't suffer from depression or anxiety, but I finally had a grip of what it felt like to be "normal". When I say normal I don't mean what society calls normal, I mean normal as in I finally felt like I should've felt my whole life. Happy. My cloud was gone, only rarely would it trail far behind me. I could finally interact with my friends and classmate like a happy teenager would. Every time I would spent time with my sister she would ask me who took her sister and replaced her with this talkative, hyper person. I wanted to do things with my friends. I wanted to draw, and listen to music. I didn't have to wake up everyday and put on my "plastic Stephani" and pretend I could function. I could actually do it, and I wanted to!
Unfortunately though, along with all that happy, I still had shame bottled up deep inside. Shame from having to take a pill in order to function like every other person. In my mind, no one I knew had to take a pill to make them happy, they could be happy on their own. Why did I have to take this stupid pill just to feel normal? I was angry. I was angry at a lot of different things. We all have things from our childhood that aren't such happy things, but I held on to mine for far too long.
When I started my pills, I was told by the Dr. that I would be on them for the rest the of my life. Most people who need anti-depressants are only prescribed them for a relatively short period of time. I stopped taking my pills about a year after I was diagnosed. My Dr, was not happy with me at all, and to this day still checks on me through family (he's been our family Dr. for longer then I've been alive).
My life since going off my pills has been a roller coaster of crazy. After I stopped the medicine I started hanging with the wrong crowd and I got involved in things I knew nothing about. Things got pretty bad for a while, and I kind of spiraled out of control until about late 2005. I was at a bar (under aged) and I fell and completely shattered every ligament in my right ankle. Because I was put in a HUGE boot and on crutches for 8 months I had to move back in with my mom. Looking back, tearing my ankle all to pieces saved my life. I was on a crash course to nowhere fast, and the train was about to derail. During my time isolated on my mom's sofa is when I met my husband. He was the best thing that could have happened to me, and in the first year we spent together my depression never showed it's ugly head.
I told you all of that, to tell you this... In the 6 and half years that I have spent with my husband, he has never had the chance to experience how happy I truly can be. He's never seen the person I am with the help of my medicine. My cloud is back, and it's in full force.
My depression is probably worse then it's ever been. I have gotten great at hiding it, but it's truly getting harder every day. I'm kind of lost and drowning in my thoughts every day. I will never revert back to drugs, or my old lifestyle. But, I'm more so going in the other direction now. I'm becoming a complete hermit, I don't ever want to leave my house, and the only reason that I really do is because I have to work. Even going to work is becoming a challenge. I LOVE what I do, but my depression is doing what it does best. It's so great at making me not give a shit about anything.
My Mom wants me to get back on my med's, and in my heart I know that is what I should do for own sanity, but still I'm conflicted. I have all these thoughts jumbled in my head and I can't express them. I just feel so frustrated and sad.
I honestly have no idea where this blog is going, or why I'm even writing it. I don't talk to many people about my depression, because most don't understand it, but I guess it's nice to just get it out regardless if anyone reads it or not. I wish I knew how to express myself better.