I felt it was necessary to write in my journal tonight. It
has been two weeks since I took a turn for the worst. A hiccup in my recovery
that felt like a knockout punch. A lot has changed in those two weeks. A few
ups and a lot more downs.
I have a firm grasp on what this illness is. I know the
symptoms. I know some of the medications. I am aware of the other
methods to fight this illness. Behavioural activities to help me fight have
been identified by me. I know them and what to do. It is the cognitive side of
things that caused this relapse.
I was going to start this paragraph by saying Depression is
like an addiction. That is false. The terms may be similar in the sense that
people need help to overcome both, but unlike an addiction, Depression chooses
you. I could choose to take hard drugs and eventually become an addict. I could
choose to abuse alcohol and become reliant on it. I did choose gambling and I
also chose to stop, which I have. I haven't gambled since December 31, 2015. It
is a huge accomplishment for me. You have no idea. My point is this; Addicts,
to a certain degree choose to be an addict at some point in their life, whether
they try it or not. They chose to pick up a bottle and not put it down. I
didn't wake up one day and say to myself, "Hey, think I will pick up
Depression." I didn't choose it. It controlled my life.
I need to be clear, I am not judging people with addictions.
I don't try to judge people anymore. Who am I to judge other people on what
they do or don't do in life? It's their life. I have had several thousand
thoughts of suicide. Judge me if you will, but you don't know me. "Don't
judge the sea by a jug full of seawater." Can't remember who said that
quote, but it is very true.
Depression is an entity of venom. You can feel it, but no
CAT scan or X-Ray or MRI will ever see it. No stethoscope can hear it. It is
like my two strongest muscles, my brain and heart are having a death-match.
Neither can win. Cannot defeat each other. So together, they directly attack mutually. They attack their own products- the brains' thoughts and the hearts'
feelings. Instead of nurturing their own, they let them wander uncontrollably
around my body. As if they are on a election campaign. They are visiting every
voter inside of me. Trying to get their vote for the dark side. I can't figure
out if they have got my soul yet, or if my soul is hiding. Maybe that is why I
cannot track it down either. If Depression and its dark agents find and collect
my soul, there will be nothing left of me. I would succumb to them and die.
This relapse has taught me a few things. I am not as strong
as I initially thought. If I was, I wouldn't be back at the hospital. I have
recognized there are no more easy days in my life. No matter how successful or
unsuccessful I become in life at being a parent or in my career, I still battle
internally every day. I have to prepare my troops for each day.
Not easy though. I need to get some control over my
thoughts. The feelings, I do not fight anymore because I have accepted that my
feelings are true and I can express them regardless of whatever the feeling is.
Don't have to hold back the tears anymore. I used to suppress feelings before
and if I had any at all, they would be negative. I was really hurting on the
inside. Keeping feelings inside would feed the internal demons, and they took
advantage of it. Made me a worse human being. I hated myself. I hated
everything about me.
It cost me a lot. Personally and financially. It consumed
everything I had. It took no prisoners and showed no mercy. I hurt people in
ways that I cannot even comprehend. I lost friends or contact with friends. The
guilt is horrific. I have so many people to say sorry to. Someday I will get it
said to most, if not, all.
People reach out to me daily. Friends from childhood. Family
from far away. Complete strangers. The support from the local community is
humbling. I am lost for words, Sympathy versus empathy. What's the difference?
Sympathy is compassion or pity for someone in pain. Empathy is power of
understanding, imaginatively entering into another's feelings. Empathy is a
tough word to use around people with Mental Illness. Empathy creates that
common bond between two different human beings but from different parts of the
country or societal class. Mental Illness does not do a screening process. It
consumes whoever it wants. Many events in our life can trigger certain
stressors. I always hid because I could.
Until I broke, finally. It needed to
happen. I was sad. Angry. Disappointed. Crushed. Guilty Hopeless. Worthless. Ashamed.
Addicted. Low energy to do anything. Short with people. Avoiding people. Generally,
a walking useless man. It finally clicked for me when I did some research.
Everything I read was describing me almost better than I could describe myself.
The symptoms sounded so familiar. I was in the gutter. Nothing else to lose.
Nothing else to live for. There was no lower to go. I was lower than dirt.
Crying hysterically. Begging like a dog. Getting blindsided. In my mind, I was
already in my casket. All someone had to do was close the cover.
I had no desire to live anymore. Isolated and sick, with no
hope in sight. No strength. No idea what to do. Until the day I decided to get
help. I told my two co-workers that I felt real bad. They suggested I go to the
hospital. I went. It wasn't easy. I had to become vulnerable. Sorry. I mean,
show my vulnerability to get the required help. At first, I didn't think there
was anything they could do for me. I was wrong. I was so wrong and lucky to be
wrong. As dark as the thoughts may be; as lonely of a feeling I may have; as
much hopelessness I may feel, I believe one of the toughest things to do is
admit that I needed help. It wasn't easy for me. I was unsure of the
consequences. How would it affect my job? How would it affect my son? How would
it affect my family? There were no consequences. I didn't think I had the
support. There was support. I was unsure of what was wrong with me.
In a weird way, admitting that I needed help and seeking
help has changed my life forever. It saved my life. I continue to urge people
that are still suffering in silence, go see someone and get help. There is
nothing to fear. I know your pain. I know what your thoughts are like. I know
what you're feeling. I do. I can empathize with you. I write this from a
hospital bed on the Psychiatry Unit. You have me. Anyone that reads this, I am
there for you. To hold your hand and guide you out of the shadows of the
despair and into the light of living. The light of your life.
"It's during our darkness moments that we must focus to see the
light"
- Aristotle Onessis
Yours Truly,
T.J. Smith
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