As my blog blatantly displays, I've struggled with depression since high school. This summer I started seeking counseling for it because it has grown into a bigger, badder storm cloud this past year. And now in the past month, everything has felt so monstrous - the stress, the depression, the unknowns - that it has been affecting my routines. Keeping me from work, class, and even enjoying time with friends.
I've been talking with my counselor for some time about this and what to do about it. If you've ever seen a counselor/therapist and begin making progress, you realize that a single one hour session per week never feels like enough. Every week I look forward to Fridays. First of all, it's Friday, duh. Secondly though, my time with Dr. Brown is usually helpful and I come away feeling like I accomplished something.
As my mental rain cloud has worsened, and kept me from work and school, friends and family have recommended I think about medication. Of course, they don't want me to rely on such things. And I don't wish to be placed on meds. But if it's between me feeling this dark empty dread all day long and taking a pill to assist my brain in feeling better, I'll go with the latter.
I talked to my counselor and asked if he thought it'd be wise to see a psychiatrist. He explained his philosophy on meds and when he felt people should seek medicinal assistance.
"If a patient's condition is causing their lives to fall apart, losing job, failing school, losing friends and family, it might be time for some pills. The one exception I make is if a person's depression has hung on so long and it has worn a patient down because of its longevity." He asked me if any of this sounded applicable.
I related to the depression hanging on for a long time. The first part, I somewhat understood what he was saying. I knew that I needed to bleed out any honesty that I hadn't yet revealed.
"I can't keep going through each day dreading each moment I'm alive. Which is what I've been feeling. I sit at work boxed into a building, boxed into a cubicle, stuck inside a phone talking to people. I feel like I'm just going to explode. I'm on the brink all the time."
Something about what I said hadn't come through in previous sessions. I told him how when I come in for counseling, I feels like a wall immediately comes up in my mind. It blocks out all the things I planned on talking about and wanted to say. We discussed about how it's normal to have that mental barrier even though I feel comfortable being open and honest. My body and mind just don't agree with me, I guess. At the end of the session, Dr. Brown handed me a card referring me to a psychiatrist to seek further help for depression as well as ADD. I have an appointment on Wednesday.
Last night I dreamed that I got put on medication and it caused me to see the devil. I think a part of me is nervous. The other part is hopeful that maybe I'll get the help I need to function better.
As of now, I'm focusing on helping CVA with their play. I think it's healthy for me. I need to do it. I don't know what else to do. I didn't work much last week, not yesterday, and not today. I feel like I'm free falling out of everything normal and stable. The medications will not be my answers. I keep looking to Jesus. He and I talk, not enough maybe, but something is happening. I think He's pulling me to where I need to be. Somehow things are working out. I feel them. Maybe that safe place isn't working at Gallup or going to Union or living in Lincoln. What I do know is that He wants me to live and not to die. Death isn't my safe haven like I sometimes think it is.
Pray for me if you think of it. Thank you to all my readers, my friends, family, and adults that have rallied around me these past few weeks.