Depression is the word of the week
One of my associates quit this week because her depression was interfering with her work. She just left one day last week and has not come back. I finally had to make the awkward phone call telling her that basically she no longer had a job. She has struggled with this problem for a while, and she explained to me that she doesn’t think she was a very good employee and that it wasn’t fair to put that burden upon me and the company. I feel for her. Sadly, she was correct. She wasn’t doing very well and was on the way to being let go anyway. She said that she has a doctor (a psychiatrist I think) whom she is working with. I hope everything turns out OK. She’s getting married in a few weeks.
Do we all suffer from depression? While I myself have very real episodes, I still think of depression as a dirty word. While I am as empathetic as they come, I still roll my eyes at the condition.
I spent the greater part of my teenaged years depressed. Really depressed. I had a lot of anxieties and hang-ups, but didn’t know how to deal with them. I didn’t know you COULD deal with them. Generalized anxiety disorder wasn’t popular then, and neither was Paxil, Zoloft, or Prozac.
My depression is cyclical. While the anxiety comes like clockwork (it is connected to monthly hormones), the depression cycle takes much longer. About 3 times a year I will stay in bed for two to three days because “I don’t feel well.” I will have a bad week with the in-bed time sandwiched in, and then I will slowly come out of the funk and not even remember what it feels like to be depressed. Isn’t that strange, that I can’t really remember what it’s like unless it’s happening?
Just yesterday, I was listening to the radio on the way to work and the guest had written a book about depression. He described his inability to get out of bed for weeks. I turned my head and only listened out of the corner of my eye because I have a hard time accepting how close that reality is for me sometimes.
Any resolutions? Perhaps. Depression is an awful, awful thing. You can’t suck it up or pray your way out of it. A lot of times medication is a good solution, sometimes the only solution for someone to lead a “normal” life.
But I have a fantastic life. I have a husband I LOVE, a nice house, a job I enjoy, family and friends, and a naturally sunny disposition. I have a hard time admitting that I have a little black rain cloud waiting in the wings.