Hi all. I'm a bit nervous even writing this because I've seen some posts around here go south. xD But just listen to me since no one else will. ^-^ And please, I want to hear your story too. <3
Lately I've been thinking about my depression. I've had depression since I started school due to manipulating friends/bullying/sexual abuse/my mom constantly telling me she wanted to give me away and blah blah sob sob stories. For as long as I can remember, I've never WANTED to live. Most of the time I screamed at whoever could hear what was going on in my head, asking why I was put in such a miserable life.
Time went on, I grew up. Still never WANTING to live. I can't remember a week where everything was just ok. I recently lost someone very close to me, and it absolutely crippled and traumatized me. I thought I was depressed before, but wow. My life was laying in bed in the dark, crying from the time I woke up, until I fell asleep. I ate one meal just to stop the aches.
I was pushed into seeking help, and here I am now, with a doctor I see one-two times a month, a psychologist, and a therapist. (At least I have a full schedule, eh? ) I'm currently on 150mg Zoloft and 150mg Wellbutrin XL. I'm also currently bouncing through sleeping medication to try to treat my insomnia, which was made worse by the medication. I run on anywhere between 3-6 hours of sleep a night.
I just look around me and see what it took to keep me from offing myself. 15 bottles of medication, three professionals and someone constantly watching me and knocking if I'm in the bathroom too long.
Depression is all I know. Life keeps letting me down and my recent loss was the worst kick to the teeth. The goal is to WANT to live, but if it involves medicating myself to the point of feeling absolutely nothing, constantly going to appointments and constantly opening old wounds, is it really worth it?
I'm sad. It's all I know how to be. It's all I can really explain. I sleep with earplugs to try to help with my sleep. I can hear my heat beat with them and every night I listen to it, and I just repeatedly plead it to stop beating.
So now. Here I am. Fresh after a therapist appointment (which is why I'm probably a bit more emo than usual and letting it show somehow) She told me after she heard the story about me sitting on the bathroom floor with all the sleeping pills I collected before a knock at the door interrupted my intentions, that I "have the right to live and be happy". (Though if one has the right to live, wouldn't they have the right to end that life? But I digress)
I've been thinking how easy it is to be depressed, and being happy seems like a lot of work. We're all going to die someday anyways. Who's going to care if someone was happy with their life or not. If they were happy, great. If they weren't and all they ever wanted was to leave this world, then great too.
Is it worth all the time, medication and effort to just be happy? It's so much easier to just accept that life wasn't really fair to you, and you've lost your faith in it. I'm just considering dropping all this medication, cancel all the appointments and just be depressed. What made me depressed can't be undone. My loss can't be brought back. Why find hope in something else that can be taken from you sooner or later?
Well. Thank you for listening to my emotional post-therapy babbling. I do feel better, but I'm sure it's just the medication kicking in, and the anxiety of talking about my feelings~ with a professional dying off.
What about you? Ever consider just accepting your depression? Or are you determined to find some hope in life? I'd love to hear your story. ^-^
Lately I've been thinking about my depression. I've had depression since I started school due to manipulating friends/bullying/sexual abuse/my mom constantly telling me she wanted to give me away and blah blah sob sob stories. For as long as I can remember, I've never WANTED to live. Most of the time I screamed at whoever could hear what was going on in my head, asking why I was put in such a miserable life.
Time went on, I grew up. Still never WANTING to live. I can't remember a week where everything was just ok. I recently lost someone very close to me, and it absolutely crippled and traumatized me. I thought I was depressed before, but wow. My life was laying in bed in the dark, crying from the time I woke up, until I fell asleep. I ate one meal just to stop the aches.
I was pushed into seeking help, and here I am now, with a doctor I see one-two times a month, a psychologist, and a therapist. (At least I have a full schedule, eh? ) I'm currently on 150mg Zoloft and 150mg Wellbutrin XL. I'm also currently bouncing through sleeping medication to try to treat my insomnia, which was made worse by the medication. I run on anywhere between 3-6 hours of sleep a night.
I just look around me and see what it took to keep me from offing myself. 15 bottles of medication, three professionals and someone constantly watching me and knocking if I'm in the bathroom too long.
Depression is all I know. Life keeps letting me down and my recent loss was the worst kick to the teeth. The goal is to WANT to live, but if it involves medicating myself to the point of feeling absolutely nothing, constantly going to appointments and constantly opening old wounds, is it really worth it?
I'm sad. It's all I know how to be. It's all I can really explain. I sleep with earplugs to try to help with my sleep. I can hear my heat beat with them and every night I listen to it, and I just repeatedly plead it to stop beating.
So now. Here I am. Fresh after a therapist appointment (which is why I'm probably a bit more emo than usual and letting it show somehow) She told me after she heard the story about me sitting on the bathroom floor with all the sleeping pills I collected before a knock at the door interrupted my intentions, that I "have the right to live and be happy". (Though if one has the right to live, wouldn't they have the right to end that life? But I digress)
I've been thinking how easy it is to be depressed, and being happy seems like a lot of work. We're all going to die someday anyways. Who's going to care if someone was happy with their life or not. If they were happy, great. If they weren't and all they ever wanted was to leave this world, then great too.
Is it worth all the time, medication and effort to just be happy? It's so much easier to just accept that life wasn't really fair to you, and you've lost your faith in it. I'm just considering dropping all this medication, cancel all the appointments and just be depressed. What made me depressed can't be undone. My loss can't be brought back. Why find hope in something else that can be taken from you sooner or later?
Well. Thank you for listening to my emotional post-therapy babbling. I do feel better, but I'm sure it's just the medication kicking in, and the anxiety of talking about my feelings~ with a professional dying off.
What about you? Ever consider just accepting your depression? Or are you determined to find some hope in life? I'd love to hear your story. ^-^