"Surprise" Birthday Parties- Thursday, March 3, 2016

Ever have a surprised birthday party? The kind when your friends and family plan it for weeks? The kind that friends and family kept secret for weeks? You had no idea about it. Completely unaware of what was waiting for you. There is no reason to have a surprise birthday. You're no different than anyone else. Nothing better or worse about you. Just a normal human being. The surprise party is completely unexpected. You're coming home late from work on a Friday. Glad, but tired from the week at work. Just being OK with a night in with friends and family. A birthday is just another day on the calendar. No reason to celebrate. You turn onto your street. No cars in sight. Everything as you left it. Just can't wait to get home and into your lounging clothes. You pull in the driveway. No expectations. You reach for the doorknob. Give it a turn. Push the door in. SURPRISE!

I got a surprise a few weeks ago. Things were going good. Doing the behavioural and cognitive activities to help cope and conquer my disease. Then, out of nowhere, a surprise birthday party. There were no clues or hints, much like the surprise party. Not even an ounce of speculation. Zero indication. And then it hits you. The punch line. SURPRISE!

Depression, ironically, is like a surprise birthday party, except in the following ways; 

1) there are no friends or family waiting behind couches and other furniture. Demons and monsters take their place. They come from the shadows. 

2) There is no music. It is loud. I am yelling and screaming. It is pointless. Only monsters and demons here. They don't care to hear me.

3) There is no cake or food or drink. The room is virtually empty, beside a few dark shadows. Even the skeletons have left my closet. Nowhere to be seen. When skeletons are scared of something, it is real bad. 

4) No one is with me. No one to share the party with. The loneliest place in the world is between my ears and six feet, two inches off the Earth. I guess it is better than six feet, two inches below the Earth. 

5) There is no idea when the party will end. These party goers in my head can go all night. And all day. They eventually pass out or recede to the shadows. No idea when their hangover will wear off so they can party again. 

6) After the party, it is a complete mess. Disaster zone created by a few dangerous patrons. Not willing or eager to leave the party. They don't offer to clean up. They don't know how. They can only destroy. Destruction is their purpose. They also manipulate. These party animals don't even go home. They go back to their hiding spaces. Planning their next surprise birthday extravaganza for me. I hope I am not home when they surprise me again.. But they know how to find me. I could even change my name and address, and something tells me they will still find me.

The fact of the matter is- the surprise birthday parties will happen again and again. Do I know when? No. Hence the meaning of the word. Most surprises are explainable, to some degree. Usually good events that make people happy. How do I handle a bad surprise party?

The uninvited guest do not care. They don't know you. They don't respect your place, or your rules. How much they thrash it means no consequences to them. They thrive in it. I can't find them. Their stealth is unbelievable. Always eluding me and blending in with their environment. Then, without announcement, they converge on my party. How come there is no noise complaints for this party? The police are not prepared or armed with the effective riot gear, yet. The doctors have stopped some of the bleeding and have been influential in changing and ridding my house of the "Sadistic Surprise Birthday Party".

I felt the need to express this description in writing for myself. There were no stressors or triggers that caused this to happen. No conversations or arguments with others. Just nothing. Completely not ready for it. Just like a surprise party. One second, you are calm, having sane thoughts. Then as that sixty seconds expires, the surprise catches me off guard, unwilling, and unprepared. I don't know what to do. Cry? Laugh? smile? Join the party? Leave the party? Enjoy the party?

I am back at the hospital. Is it where I want to be? Yes. Because I had a minor 'surprise' relapse with my recovery. Things seemed good and manageable. Then BOOM! SURPRISE! It almost scared the life out of me. Not figuratively. Literally.

At first, referring to my return, I was confused and a little frustrated. Why did it happen? What triggered me coming back here? I don't know. I do not have an answer. A mystery of the mind. I guess I shouldn't be too surprise with the impact of this illness.

So, coming to terms with why I am back at the hospital may seem trivial. It is. But here I am. If I didn't come back, who knows what could have happened. Reflecting back, I am OK with being back. Not worried. Not scared. I am safe and comfortable here while the doctor tries a combination of drugs to help fight this Depression. Maybe it may seem like a long process. Maybe it appears as a setback. It is a long process and a it is a minor setback. An opportunity to live in disguise.

Just because it is a setback, does it mean I am discouraged and quit? Not a chance. Only being where I was will help me to get to where I am going. I am not focused on the past or future. Just the moment. Each moment creates the person I am going to be. Who I am. Quitting is not an option. A word I can't afford to learn the definition to. As bad as I have felt like packing it is, I still haven't quit.

I have accepted that I am back at the hospital. It is required. I am patient. I am a patient. I am willing to trust the doctor and other professionals to help me get better. And that is what is so important to me- I want to get better. Some days I want to quit. I really do. It's not easy. I have accepted the battle.

 

I cannot forecast how this illness will affect me. Maybe, I will have to come back here five or ten more times before I get my Depression under some control. Maybe, just maybe, I won't be back after this time. The only certainty is that there is uncertainty with my illness. Unpredictable thoughts and feelings. I don't know if the word 'cured' will every apply to me. That is to be seen. If I need medication for the rest of my life, that is something I am prepared to do. If a few pills daily make it necessary to live, I will take them. The pills will have to be my oxygen. I need them to live.

Accepting that this will be a longer process than originally thought is critical for my recovery. No point in rushing through life. Rushing to my deathbed. "By perseverance, even the snail reached the Ark." One of my all-time favorite quotes. So much meaning. It makes perfect sense to me. Although, it may be perceived that I am going backwards, I am not. Necessary setback to continue to move forward. To keep living on.

"It is easier to find men who will volunteer to die, than to find those who are willing to endure pain with patience."

                                                                                       - Julius Caesar 

Yours Truly, 

T.J. Smith