Support

Being depressed or suffering from some other vaguely related disorder is not generally a lot of fun. Even in 2015 people still think a mental disorder is the equivalent of insanity and all suffering from this should be shunned. This very VERY old fashioned point of view is lamentable and obviously the people who hold to it should be the ones who are shunned. But the problem is often not the ones who think you are insane, it’s the ones who think you’re just a little down.

Friends and family can be a huge support for anyone who is depressed or dysthymic or whatever. If they can be made to understand what’s going on. Because many still think that depressed people should just try a little harder. There is nothing worse than hearing ‘you should go for a walk!’ every other day. Well, not “nothing”, but you get my drift.

When you’re a little down or sad, a walk can be very heartening. Exercise has been proven to be beneficent for your mood. So yay for all those who are helped by this! Seriously, I am very happy for you. Feeling like this sucks, so anything that helps is a plus.

Unfortunately, walking or even more strenuous exercise doesn’t help everyone. Random walking just gives me time to think and since I think depressing things, I get more depressed. So, not a good thing. People often tell me that they feel so energised after their run/bike ride/trip to the gym/ski holiday/whatever. This is very nice for them. It does not work this way for me.

For starters, many sports cost a lot of money. I have no job, so money is a problem. So people say to go running, which costs nothing! Which isn’t true. An outfit, especially the shoes, costs money. Also, exercising when you don’t know what you’re doing can be very dangerous for your health.

But let’s ignore these problems and say you do run. I used to. I trained myself until I could run for 30 minutes without having to stop or even be too much out of breath. Objectively, this was quite an achievement. I was decidedly underwhelmed. I was just tired and unimpressed. I kept it up for a while, until I was sucked back into a negative spiral.

Pills, Glorious Pills

Ah, medication.

You can love it or hate it. Or be somewhere in the middle.

The major problem with medication for psychological problems is the side effects. They are many and horrible. And another bad thing, they take a while to work, so you need to take them for months before you can try something else.

Personally, I love my pills. They’re not an instant fix, which would have been nice, but they make my life a lot more bearable. Before, I cried myself to sleep almost every night. Every little bump in the road might as well have been a mountain. I hated my life and no therapist could convince me it was worth living.

Then came the pills. (Yay!) My shrink put me on Venlafaxine. It was just plain weird! Suddenly I was angry and bitter and moody. I was none of those things. Ever. E-ver. I was thrown for a loop, but stuck with it. The crying lessened and my moods in general started to even out. I became somewhat flat, which is a well known side effect. After three months I was still depressed, but I felt much calmer and even headed. Just better in general. That ever present layer of sadness had lessened significantly.

I was one of the lucky few who had found the ‘right’ medication on the first try. I know of many others who have struggled for years to find something that worked without too many unintended effects. Not that I didn’t have any side effects!

Bad Days

Everyone who has something along the lines of depression knows that there are good days and bad days. For some people the bad days outweigh the good, which sucks. For some people the good days are milder versions of the bad, which sucks even more.

The thing with bad days is, they’re there. Nowadays, I just try to embrace them. Not wallow, because that is a recipe for disaster, but let them be there. Every now and then I just give in to the urge to stay in bed all day. Not too often, but sometimes. Bed is nice. I sleep all day and when I wake up I maybe read some, and then I sleep some more. Because sleeping rules. Fact.