Depression

[Luna_Wolf72]

I very rarely start threads. I very rarely deal with serious topics. I am, by and large, an uninhibited flirt with no redeeming value to society. However, in the past few weeks I have been dealing (not well) with a serious slide into clinical depression. As most people are aware, clinical depression is very different from sadness in that there is (usually) a chemical imbalance in the brain that makes the lows exceedingly bad.

I have tried to get help in my way. I have tried talking to others who have some experience in dealing with it and I am attempting to get re-evaluated to make sure that my initial diagnosis (from over 20 years ago) is still valid.

The reason I am putting all of my business out on the board is simple. GLBT people of all stripes experience this at one time or another and in the case of people transitioning from one gender to another, this can be very hard to deal with. Others have experienced a loss of a life partner or are working from emotional baggage that comes from living a life out...or hidden.

I want this thread to be a place of support. A place to engage in helpful conversation, to give advice, to promote outreach. I would appreciate it immensely if you would keep your negativity away from the thread. Don't come here to poke prod or otherwise abuse the real people who are dealing with this. Instead, please use this thread as a way to make connections~to help someone who may have a need in our community. Someone much like myself.

 

[Luna_Wolf72]

Another thought~if anyone knows good, reputable, GLBT friendly psychologists, therapists or programs..please leave a note. Sometimes the hardest step is connecting with someone who understands the specific needs of those living an alternative lifestyle. Even if no one ever says thank you~a recommendation could be the thing that stops a suicide attempt or ushers someone toward the help they need.

Thank you.

 

[Safe_Bet]

**Hugs you - hard**

Yeah, even tuff chicks need that sometimes...


P.S. http://therapists.psychologytoday.com/rms/prof_search.php?s9=Y

 

[Luna_Wolf72]

Thanks Amy.

**HUGS you right back**

The link is really helpful. I wish I had known about it before last night. Tells you how much I don't pay any attention to what is right in my own backyard.

 

[Safe_Bet]

Thanks Amy.

**HUGS you right back**

The link is really helpful. I wish I had known about it before last night. Tells you how much I don't pay any attention to what is right in my own backyard.

Now read your freakin PMs!

 

[Luna_Wolf72]

Now read your freakin PMs!

Going woman...sheesh...

 

[hottchic]

I very rarely start threads. I very rarely deal with serious topics. I am, by and large, an uninhibited flirt with no redeeming value to society. However, in the past few weeks I have been dealing (not well) with a serious slide into clinical depression. As most people are aware, clinical depression is very different from sadness in that there is (usually) a chemical imbalance in the brain that makes the lows exceedingly bad.

I have tried to get help in my way. I have tried talking to others who have some experience in dealing with it and I am attempting to get re-evaluated to make sure that my initial diagnosis (from over 20 years ago) is still valid.

The reason I am putting all of my business out on the board is simple. GLBT people of all stripes experience this at one time or another and in the case of people transitioning from one gender to another, this can be very hard to deal with. Others have experienced a loss of a life partner or are working from emotional baggage that comes from living a life out...or hidden.

I want this thread to be a place of support. A place to engage in helpful conversation, to give advice, to promote outreach. I would appreciate it immensely if you would keep your negativity away from the thread. Don't come here to poke prod or otherwise abuse the real people who are dealing with this. Instead, please use this thread as a way to make connections~to help someone who may have a need in our community. Someone much like myself.

I know how that can feel love, yesterday I was feeling suicidal. I found out that I am probably going to lose my house with all the money tied up in it, and this is after 3 years out of work scraping by on ocasional contracts.

Personally I have bipolar tendencies and have suffered from bouts of depression and this is certainly not helped by my transgendered identity and the feeling I have gone through my whole life having to hide who I really am. I have a history of self harm and suicidal thoughts.

I found that getting person centered therapy (PCT) was very helpful for me in beginning to accept my transgendered self and I have also found self help Cognative Behavioral Therapy (CBT) has helped me with low self esteem issues.

Yesterday the main thing I did was to talk to good friends on line who I know I can be completely open with. When you have depression it is important to talk and not isolate, starting this thread was a good idea.

For my own part I just want you to know that I consider you a beautiful person and accept you and love you for who you are

If you want to PM me, don't hesitate to do so. I am here for you and I am sure you will find that many friends here on Lit are here for you also.

And please take care of yourself (I know it is hard when you feel like this).

 

[Stella_Omega]

I fight depression as well. I don't have much to say about it at the moment, but I'm with you.

 

[Luna_Wolf72]

hottie and Stella~

Thanks for dropping by. I don't expect that this thread will be used often but it is good to know that we are not alone. Being considered different from the giddy up means that depression seems twice as horrible sometimes cuz you don't have people like YOU around. (least that's how it feels to me).

Thanks to Amy's link I did find someone to set up an initial meeting with (outside of my eval~ that was done this morning.) Hopefully, that will get me back on track or at least give me somewhere to begin the journey back to my normal, social butterfly self.

This being surrounded by darkness is scary. And I hate it.

 

[Stella_Omega]

Congratulations to you on being so proactive about it babe

 

[Luna_Wolf72]

Congratulations to you on being so proactive about it babe

Thanks sexy. (I keep wanting to call you Syr...*grins*) if I don't get it together, my kids will beat me senseless. My son (the eldest) knows the signs and he started harping about a week and a half ago.

Last night was really very bad...so I knew...it was time to move.

 

[hottchic]

Thanks sexy. (I keep wanting to call you Syr...*grins*) if I don't get it together, my kids will beat me senseless. My son (the eldest) knows the signs and he started harping about a week and a half ago.

Last night was really very bad...so I knew...it was time to move.

Yes, children can be very sensitive to the emotions of others. If was good that you did something.

For myself, if I start going into a really negative spiral I don't want to hear anybody say anything positive about me.

Just to let you know AGAIN you are a very lovable person with a beautiful heart never doubt that

 

[StacyV]

I remember when my mom first found out (I didn't tell her, didn't even want to; she FOUND OUT, FML) that I had a girlfriend (the first of a few). She started the whole "Oh my God, oh my God...", then went on saying how I was an abomination in the eyes of God. :| Years later, my mom still makes horrible snide comments about me being gay (I'm bi), and despite how proud I am of myself for living my life as a bisexual girl the way I want, it doesn't help that I am also clincally and chronically depressed because of that awful woman. She's also the main reason I used to cut. :/

I attend therapy sessions and take medication. I'm not sure if my psychiatrist is GBLT friendly, to be honest; he seems like an open-minded enough man. Still, depression is not the end of the world, even though it feels like it; I know what you're going through, Luna. Feel better!

 

[CJontherocks]

I don't really have anything to offer any of you, except friendship and love. I don't fully understand, and I can't begin to offer advice.

But as a fella once said, "...any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind."

What a good thing you're doing by opening this conversation, this place where people can come to learn and to talk and to breathe. I hope your good times outweigh your bad, always.

 

[Luna_Wolf72]

Notes for perusal

symptoms

relating to GLBT issues

Will be adding as I think of things

 

[mandoscot]

Hi there Luna - for what it's worth i suffered and still do from time to time following the deaths of 4 siblings and a parent within a very short timeframe. I tried the medication route and found it didn't help me much but I did get a lot of help from cognitive behaviour therapy and especially from an on-line resource called Mood Gym

http://moodgym.anu.edu.au/welcome

It's anonymous and self led so you can take it at your own pace as and when you like. You might want to give it a try or have a look at it.

Whatever; just knowing that you aren't alone and that there really is light at the end of the tunnel can be useful.

 

[hottchic]

symptoms

relating to GLBT issues

Will be adding as I think of things

My depression is going in waves right now but I have been making alot of comments saying that my son would be better off without me.

I have been arguing against people that say I am not a bad person I keep calling myself a piece of shit. Most of the stuff about suicide in that article relates to me right now, and I did self harm hitting my head against a wall yesterday.

It is the numb feeling that I hate most.

 

[hottchic]

I remember when my mom first found out (I didn't tell her, didn't even want to; she FOUND OUT, FML) that I had a girlfriend (the first of a few). She started the whole "Oh my God, oh my God...", then went on saying how I was an abomination in the eyes of God. :| Years later, my mom still makes horrible snide comments about me being gay (I'm bi), and despite how proud I am of myself for living my life as a bisexual girl the way I want, it doesn't help that I am also clincally and chronically depressed because of that awful woman. She's also the main reason I used to cut. :/

I attend therapy sessions and take medication. I'm not sure if my psychiatrist is GBLT friendly, to be honest; he seems like an open-minded enough man. Still, depression is not the end of the world, even though it feels like it; I know what you're going through, Luna. Feel better!

You suffered the worst form of emotional abuse imaginable, calling you an abomination was the worst thing that that evil bitch could have done to you.

I know you are a beautiful woman and only deserving of love

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eAfyFTzZDMM

 

[Annisthyrienne]

I've never posted in this part of the forums before. And what I am posting here now is deeply personal. I debated whether to share this, but I feel that I should, even though it will be hard for me. I am writing this and posting it here just in case it will help someone. I hope Luna, who I consider a friend, will find some value in it. But if it helps anyone, it will be worth the pain it brings back to me to tell this story.

First, I will not speak into the particular difficulties that must come along with gender preference, or gender identity issues as they relate to depression. My own gender preference/identity issues have only been explored through fantasy, with one exception, so I don't really feel qualified to speak to that. But I have had a long history of depression, and I feel I have something important to say about that.

This pertains specifically to the question of suicide. I've been to that precipice, more than once. I'm still here though, I survived. And this story is to explain why.

In the early 90s I was deep in depression. I had my reasons, not that it's necessary for the story. We all have our reasons. And like a lot of people who suffer, I came to the point where I thought I would rather just bring it all to an end than keep struggling in what I thought was a useless endeavor of living a life that didn't matter. That's what I thought of myself: that I didn't matter, that I had no business breathing the air that would be better used for someone who did matter. I even got to the point where I would donate blood products to try to justify my worth as a human being. If nothing else, I could serve as a platelet supply. I felt I had no better use.

But it wasn't enough. Harder times (emotionally speaking) came along and took me to that brink. I remember I was on a break at my job, sitting on a loading dock, drinking a soda. When I finished it, I was feeling very bad. I bent it until I could tear it open to get a sharp edge. I intended to cut my throat with it.

It doesn't really matter why I was feeling so bad. I can't even remember the reasons now. I couldn't see the torn aluminum can in my hand because so many tears were in my eyes. I couldn't go through with it, or at least I don't think I could have. I really don't know. Before I could, one of my co-workers came over and struck up a conversation, asking if I was alright, etc. Now suicide is a very private thing. You just can't do it in front of someone like that. So I tried to play it off like nothing was going on. It didn't work. That co-worker reported to my supervisor, who called my sister, who notified my psychiatrist, and the two of them called me into his office and confronted me about it. The end result was that I was put in the psych ward of the hospital for a week.

I was already on Prozac at that time. It didn't do much. But in the hospital, they made me talk....and talk....and talk.....and talk!!! I got so sick of talking, so tired of it, but eventually they decided to let me out. It still didn't change my mind about suicide, just got me through that particular episode. You see, like most people, I felt that it was my life. And therefore, it was my own decision if I wanted to end it. I felt I had that right.

And so it wasn't long before I found myself sitting on the edge of my bed, a loaded gun in my hand, crying again, (like I am now as I recall this) just trying to think of any reason why I shouldn't go through with it. In fact, I recall having that thought: 'What reason is there not to do this?'

I began to think in that moment what my family would think, those who were left behind to wonder why I did it. The thing that stopped me from going through with it in that moment was not to be the epiphany that I would later have, but perhaps it was the seed thought for it. For whatever reason, I didn't go through with it. My sister came over that evening and made me give her my gun.

Some time later, I had the chance to find out what my family members would have thought. My brother told me he would have thought I was incredibly selfish. He told me he would have been angry with me, that I would have done such a thing. But he really couldn't put into words why. My dad could though. He pointed out that the idea that my life was my own to take was a fallacy. In truth, my life belongs to all those to whom I mean something in their lives. Basically, for everyone to whom I mean something, I am a part of their life. It would be wrong of me to take that part of their life away from them.

I had never thought of it that way before. But it was true. To someone, I was a sister. To someone, I was a friend. To someone, I was a daughter, or a co-worker, or a neighbor, or whatever. And it goes even beyond that.

That thought that my dad explained took away from me the notion that suicide was an option, but I was not totally convinced until years later. When you no longer think its a viable option, you just survive whatever you are going through. What other choice do you have? Some days you just get up, survive, and go to bed, because that's all you can stand to do. Some days, you don't want to even do that. But when you don't have any other option, you do it anyway. Even today, I still sometimes say that the best thing that can be said for some days is that they eventually must end.

But years after, when I was in college, I met a single mother who became a good friend. She struggled in her situation, and eventually one night I met up with her on a break from our classes. We got to talking, and I could tell, from having been there myself, that she was at the point of considering 'that' option. I listened to her talk of her many problems, and when she was ready, I told her my story, much as I am telling all of you who read this. I told her what my dad had said to me, and how it affected me. Because I had been through it, my words rang true to her. I was able to show her a different perspective than she had considered, and that is what I am hoping will happen to anyone reading this.

When I was through, she was quiet for a time. Then she said something to me that I will never forget. She said, "It always amazes me that God knows exactly what angel to send to me when I need them the most, with just the right message that I need to hear." This touched me deeply. I had been called many things before, even some things that began with the letter 'A', but never had I been called an angel before. This was the event that cinched my epiphany for me.

You see, you are someone special to a lot of people, as I mentioned above. And it would be wrong to take that part of their lives away from them. You would be stealing something precious from so many people, and you have no right to do that. But equally important, perhaps MORE important, is what you will become to people you don't even know yet, people you haven't even met yet, and maybe won't meet for years or decades to come. You may save a life someday, with your pain that you are surviving right now, just because you've survived it. You may make the difference in someone's life, in so many ways you might not ever even know, but you have to believe that no matter how worthless you think you are, you are not! You matter! You cannot know in what miraculous ways you will make a difference to so many people, present and future!

This story is always hard for me to tell. It brings back feelings and pain I hoped I had left in the past. And it will affect my mood for days to come now. But if my words have given a new perspective to even one person reading them, who will NOT go through with 'that' option, and survive instead to make a difference to someone they may not even know yet, then it will be worth the pain I feel in reliving it.

Luna, my friend, you matter to me, and to so many others, even if you only count us here at Lit, not to mention the people in your real life who love you. You are seeking help, and that is a good sign. I admire that you have that strength in you to know and recognize that you need to do something. It means that you are a survivor, like me. More importantly, it is one baby step to getting through this. I've found that taking some action, even if only a baby step, empowers you and makes you feel better about your situation.

Having said all of this, I personally would not go back on meds. But that is my choice. I do believe that brain chemistry is in imbalance, and that is a part of the problem. But I think that I would try natural supplements for brain chemistry health before I turned to artificial drugs. That is just me though. You must get the help that you feel will work for you. If you are interested in a natural supplement, I urge you to read this article.

http://dearpharmacist.com/?p=929

And don't neglect your spiritual well being too. Whatever your beliefs are, they are meant to bring comfort to you exactly in times like these. In my case, I find comfort in the 'Conversations with God' series of books by Neale Donald Walsh. They are not written from any established religious perspective, and offer a fresh outlook on humanity's relationship with the divine that I find refreshingly 'common sense' without all the dogma that comes with most religions. If you feel moved to check them out, consider that its possible you are being led to it. When the student is ready, the teacher will appear. In this case, maybe the 'teacher' should merely be the source of the information.

Anyhow, I hope my story helps you. I hope it helps someone. Telling it in hopes that it does is the one thing that gives meaning to having had to go through it. I hold on to that thought. It gives me the strength to tell this story again, even through the tears I'm shedding now, yet again.

I'm going to go have a good cry now. Sorry this was so long.

 

[Louise_Loves]

I am, by and large, an uninhibited flirt with no redeeming value to society.

Sorry, but this line is bullshit. No redeeming value? You think flirting has no value? If it weren't for uninhibited flirts, how would the rest of us know when we look beautiful? And being made to feel beautiful is a beautiful thing in and of itself.

Even if this were not so, you are (from what I can tell) a damn good mom and a fierce friend. Both of these things are in short supply.

No redeeming value?

Ah...bullshit.

Tons of hugs and kisses.

 

[Luna_Wolf72]

Hi there Luna - for what it's worth i suffered and still do from time to time following the deaths of 4 siblings and a parent within a very short timeframe. I tried the medication route and found it didn't help me much but I did get a lot of help from cognitive behaviour therapy and especially from an on-line resource called Mood Gym

http://moodgym.anu.edu.au/welcome

It's anonymous and self led so you can take it at your own pace as and when you like. You might want to give it a try or have a look at it.

Whatever; just knowing that you aren't alone and that there really is light at the end of the tunnel can be useful.

That is an awesomne link. Thank you. And really this thread wasn't just about me...and not just for me. It was and is for anyone who suffers, who has a need...I just wanted to lead the discussion because i am dealing with it, right now.

*snip*

It is the numb feeling that I hate most.

*hugs* THAT is the worst feeling...

You suffered the worst form of emotional abuse imaginable, calling you an abomination was the worst thing that that evil bitch could have done to you.

I know you are a beautiful woman and only deserving of love

You make me smile.

I've never posted in this part of the forums before. And what I am posting here now is deeply personal. I debated whether to share this, but I feel that I should, even though it will be hard for me. I am writing this and posting it here just in case it will help someone. I hope Luna, who I consider a friend, will find some value in it. But if it helps anyone, it will be worth the pain it brings back to me to tell this story.

First, I will not speak into the particular difficulties that must come along with gender preference, or gender identity issues as they relate to depression. My own gender preference/identity issues have only been explored through fantasy, with one exception, so I don't really feel qualified to speak to that. But I have had a long history of depression, and I feel I have something important to say about that.

This pertains specifically to the question of suicide. I've been to that precipice, more than once. I'm still here though, I survived. And this story is to explain why.

In the early 90s I was deep in depression. I had my reasons, not that it's necessary for the story. We all have our reasons. And like a lot of people who suffer, I came to the point where I thought I would rather just bring it all to an end than keep struggling in what I thought was a useless endeavor of living a life that didn't matter. That's what I thought of myself: that I didn't matter, that I had no business breathing the air that would be better used for someone who did matter. I even got to the point where I would donate blood products to try to justify my worth as a human being. If nothing else, I could serve as a platelet supply. I felt I had no better use.

But it wasn't enough. Harder times (emotionally speaking) came along and took me to that brink. I remember I was on a break at my job, sitting on a loading dock, drinking a soda. When I finished it, I was feeling very bad. I bent it until I could tear it open to get a sharp edge. I intended to cut my throat with it.

It doesn't really matter why I was feeling so bad. I can't even remember the reasons now. I couldn't see the torn aluminum can in my hand because so many tears were in my eyes. I couldn't go through with it, or at least I don't think I could have. I really don't know. Before I could, one of my co-workers came over and struck up a conversation, asking if I was alright, etc. Now suicide is a very private thing. You just can't do it in front of someone like that. So I tried to play it off like nothing was going on. It didn't work. That co-worker reported to my supervisor, who called my sister, who notified my psychiatrist, and the two of them called me into his office and confronted me about it. The end result was that I was put in the psych ward of the hospital for a week.

I was already on Prozac at that time. It didn't do much. But in the hospital, they made me talk....and talk....and talk.....and talk!!! I got so sick of talking, so tired of it, but eventually they decided to let me out. It still didn't change my mind about suicide, just got me through that particular episode. You see, like most people, I felt that it was my life. And therefore, it was my own decision if I wanted to end it. I felt I had that right.

And so it wasn't long before I found myself sitting on the edge of my bed, a loaded gun in my hand, crying again, (like I am now as I recall this) just trying to think of any reason why I shouldn't go through with it. In fact, I recall having that thought: 'What reason is there not to do this?'

I began to think in that moment what my family would think, those who were left behind to wonder why I did it. The thing that stopped me from going through with it in that moment was not to be the epiphany that I would later have, but perhaps it was the seed thought for it. For whatever reason, I didn't go through with it. My sister came over that evening and made me give her my gun.

Some time later, I had the chance to find out what my family members would have thought. My brother told me he would have thought I was incredibly selfish. He told me he would have been angry with me, that I would have done such a thing. But he really couldn't put into words why. My dad could though. He pointed out that the idea that my life was my own to take was a fallacy. In truth, my life belongs to all those to whom I mean something in their lives. Basically, for everyone to whom I mean something, I am a part of their life. It would be wrong of me to take that part of their life away from them.

I had never thought of it that way before. But it was true. To someone, I was a sister. To someone, I was a friend. To someone, I was a daughter, or a co-worker, or a neighbor, or whatever. And it goes even beyond that.

That thought that my dad explained took away from me the notion that suicide was an option, but I was not totally convinced until years later. When you no longer think its a viable option, you just survive whatever you are going through. What other choice do you have? Some days you just get up, survive, and go to bed, because that's all you can stand to do. Some days, you don't want to even do that. But when you don't have any other option, you do it anyway. Even today, I still sometimes say that the best thing that can be said for some days is that they eventually must end.

But years after, when I was in college, I met a single mother who became a good friend. She struggled in her situation, and eventually one night I met up with her on a break from our classes. We got to talking, and I could tell, from having been there myself, that she was at the point of considering 'that' option. I listened to her talk of her many problems, and when she was ready, I told her my story, much as I am telling all of you who read this. I told her what my dad had said to me, and how it affected me. Because I had been through it, my words rang true to her. I was able to show her a different perspective than she had considered, and that is what I am hoping will happen to anyone reading this.

When I was through, she was quiet for a time. Then she said something to me that I will never forget. She said, "It always amazes me that God knows exactly what angel to send to me when I need them the most, with just the right message that I need to hear." This touched me deeply. I had been called many things before, even some things that began with the letter 'A', but never had I been called an angel before. This was the event that cinched my epiphany for me.

You see, you are someone special to a lot of people, as I mentioned above. And it would be wrong to take that part of their lives away from them. You would be stealing something precious from so many people, and you have no right to do that. But equally important, perhaps MORE important, is what you will become to people you don't even know yet, people you haven't even met yet, and maybe won't meet for years or decades to come. You may save a life someday, with your pain that you are surviving right now, just because you've survived it. You may make the difference in someone's life, in so many ways you might not ever even know, but you have to believe that no matter how worthless you think you are, you are not! You matter! You cannot know in what miraculous ways you will make a difference to so many people, present and future!

This story is always hard for me to tell. It brings back feelings and pain I hoped I had left in the past. And it will affect my mood for days to come now. But if my words have given a new perspective to even one person reading them, who will NOT go through with 'that' option, and survive instead to make a difference to someone they may not even know yet, then it will be worth the pain I feel in reliving it.

Luna, my friend, you matter to me, and to so many others, even if you only count us here at Lit, not to mention the people in your real life who love you. You are seeking help, and that is a good sign. I admire that you have that strength in you to know and recognize that you need to do something. It means that you are a survivor, like me. More importantly, it is one baby step to getting through this. I've found that taking some action, even if only a baby step, empowers you and makes you feel better about your situation.

Having said all of this, I personally would not go back on meds. But that is my choice. I do believe that brain chemistry is in imbalance, and that is a part of the problem. But I think that I would try natural supplements for brain chemistry health before I turned to artificial drugs. That is just me though. You must get the help that you feel will work for you. If you are interested in a natural supplement, I urge you to read this article.

http://dearpharmacist.com/?p=929

And don't neglect your spiritual well being too. Whatever your beliefs are, they are meant to bring comfort to you exactly in times like these. In my case, I find comfort in the 'Conversations with God' series of books by Neale Donald Walsh. They are not written from any established religious perspective, and offer a fresh outlook on humanity's relationship with the divine that I find refreshingly 'common sense' without all the dogma that comes with most religions. If you feel moved to check them out, consider that its possible you are being led to it. When the student is ready, the teacher will appear. In this case, maybe the 'teacher' should merely be the source of the information.

Anyhow, I hope my story helps you. I hope it helps someone. Telling it in hopes that it does is the one thing that gives meaning to having had to go through it. I hold on to that thought. It gives me the strength to tell this story again, even through the tears I'm shedding now, yet again.

I'm going to go have a good cry now. Sorry this was so long.

I fucking love you.

 

[none2_none2]

Some of you mention medications, others of you don't. I think it is true that each has to find their own path to coping with depression; but I hope those of you that have chosen not to take medications have done so after careful consideration.

Years ago, I would never consider taking medications. I did a self-mind-fuck about if I took the pill, would it then really be me, or somebody else. I finally hit a point in my life where I realized that it was more important to get out of the ditch I had dug, than worry about me or not-me. I've never been on meds long term, but I have had them when I hit a rock bottom.

Like some other's have mentioned, I have read about cognative psychology, and I agree with its principles. However, if and when you have a chemical imbalance, you may not be able to rely on thinking or talking your way out of depression. When the chemical imbalance gets too great, even our logical thinking can be tinted.

If I were to make an analogy, my partner had 5 bypasses a year ago. He now has to take high blood pressure medicine, a small dose of asprine (blood thinning properties), and some other pills. I assume he will be on those for the rest of his life. He might see it as a failure. He may see it as taking "unnatural substances". He may see it as not being the "real him". However, the fact remains that it keeps him alive and as healthy as one can be with 5 bypasses in you early 50's.

We should view depression the same way. Your brain uses neural transmitters to communicate, and they can get out of imbalance. You don't have to feel ashamed to take pills if they help you. Now, I did have problems taking them long term, as they all had affects that I didn't like. I loved Prozac because It was a great way to loose weight. I got down to the weight I hadn't seen since college. However, I would wake up in the middle of the night and my brain would be buzzing. Plus, another side affect (one that I've seen with several of the anti-depresants) was impotence. For a guy, that is a big deal. Dealing with impotence can contribute to existing depression.

The last time I took anti-depressants was Dec 2003. It was after my grandma who raised me died. Now even "normal" people would be depressed over such a thing. However, I couldn't get past it. It was constantly on my mind. The pills helped (I forget what the med was, but I believe it was supposed to deal with two neural transmitters.) I might have taken it longer, but I got better and the physician assistant left. I just didn't feel comfortable talking to my MD about it, so I stopped when the perscription ran out. I believe I was ok.

Roll forward to 3 years ago, and I started dealing with SO much stress about trying to deal with having a farm -- all the bills, and the fact that my partner's views on money sometimes make me just want to walk away from it all. I've saved all my life, and he thinks nothing about spending money right and left. My savings is like a piggy bank with a big hole in the belly. Just the other day he wasted $110.00 (his own money I wll add) on a stupid Japaneese Maple. It would have been more prudent to spend that on farm bills, than a stupid ornamental tree that doesn't even make fruit for us or for our animals.

I also stress about every time I loose an animal. I wasn't cut out for farming even though I love aspects of rural life. I even stress when a stupid chicken dies. (FYI, I haven't killed anthing except possums, and racoons and an owl since they killed my animals. I''d love to kill some hawks for all the chickens they killed -- before I realize that free ranging isn't all it is cut out to be. When I hear coyotes at night it freaks me out.) I am not a vagan, but it is one thing to buy deli meat slices, vs killing a living, breathing, thinking animal that you have loved, protected, raised, and fed.

All these issues here at the farm eat away at me. Most of my days are like being in someone elses body, where I think to myself: "THIS IS NOT MY LIFE!"

(NOTE: I don't see these things as breaking up with my partner. I'm sure any of you who have long term relationships know that money can be a real big stresser. Yes some times I could scream, but for the other 30 years I was sexually active and open to a relationship, they all failed misserably for one reason or another. Someone who can stick by your side in the good times and the bad times, is like finding a diamond in the sand. Despite these issues, I'm crazy about him. We will have been involved for 9 years this comming Labor Day, and I do count my blessings. Also note, I am NOT his sugar daddy.)


Other stressors is fear of my weight gain moving me over to diabetes which killed my dad. (I dont' mind exercising, but I don't seem to cut calories way back which is the only real solution in my case.) I also cannot get enought sleep. I have insomnia for which I use a CPAP unit, but even so, I get at max 6 hours sleep.

Another recent stressor is that my mother is showing signs of dementia. I may be forced to put her in a nursing home. In some ways we aren't real close since grandma raised me -- due to my mothers bi-polar condition. (Yes, it RUNS in my family!) However, I wanted her to be happy, and I know she will sense a nursing home as being institutionalized again. Plus she loves animals like me. (Cats in this case.) No place will take four cats, & they are like her kids. They are the reason she gets up in the moring, and I am supposed to take them away from her???
FYI, I cannot take them myself as farm is infiltrated with bobcat fever which is passed by ticks. (I've lost two cats already, and may very well have lost a third cat that I tried to keep inside for the two ears I had him, but he got out 3 weeks ago, and has never re-appeared. I fear for him since the ticks are now in season again.) The desease is 95% fatal to all felines (except of course for bobcats). It is a HORRIBLE, painful way to die. So anyway, I worry what to do with her cats.

Likewise, I worry about the house that half belongs to me, the other half to the state since the state paid grandma's nursing home towards the end. Grandma wanted me to fix that up. Another guilt trip if I don't, but the house needs work which can be done, but it is 360 miles away, so it will be expensive and difficult to do so. Plus, that house has posessions that belong to my great great, great, and grandparents as well as my mother and myself. My grandma, her sisters, my mother were all visual artists -- naily oil paintings. I want some part of my grandma's life to go on. So I don't want to throw away any of her paintings nor other things that are sentamental, but I don't have the space to keep it all. Plus, all of this brings back up my own feelings of failure with my grandma.

Any of you who have dealt with nursing homes may have had to deal with loved ones who wanted to go home, but you knew that they could not take care of themselves, and that even you yourself could not give them the constant level of care they need. You know you made the right decision in your head, but your heart tells you failed them. Every time you visit them and they ask to go home it hurts to tell them no.

Anyway, so far I'm managing WITHOUT medications, but I may have to seek some out again. One could argue that one's issues are legit reasons to be depressed. That is true, but everybody deals with similar issues and goes on. On the surface I go on too, but there are tell tail symptoms of my own depression. For me, I procrastinate things because I dread them. I also avoid responsibilities when I don't want to deal with them. I know myself well enough to know it isn't just laziness or irresponsiblity.

So from all these rambling, I guess what I was trying to convey is that with depression learn yourself well enough to determine the difference between normal sadness and lingering negative feeilngs that are depression. Be willing to use whatever it takes to fight it -- including pills if it comes to that. After all, the only life we know about for sure is this one, so make it count and make it as happy as you can.

 

[Annisthyrienne]

Well, I certainly understand and respect your point of view. And please don't misconstrue what I said before; I didn't mean to sound 'anti-meds'. I took meds for years, Prozac, Effexor, Serzone. None of them seemed to do much, except the Effexor made me sick to my stomach each day when I took it, unless I ate a large meal with it. And when you're depressed, a lot of times, you don't feel like eating anything.

All I mean to say was that if I were faced with needing some sort of chemical help today, I would try the Deproloft first, and see if it helped me. If it didn't, then I'd go to the doctor and try something else. I just believe in trying to fix the natural things my body and mind may be lacking first.

Truthfully, the single best thing I ever did to make a difference was to pay off all my debts and live on a cash only basis. Finances were not the reason for my depression, originally, but the stress caused by dealing with it was incredibly debilitating.

In fact, I never even knew how bad it was until after I paid everything off, and then got one last 'gotcha' bill from Citibank, claiming I owed them another 187 bucks. I had just paid off around 10 grand, so you'd think another 187 was nothing to get excited about. But all the stress I hadn't realized had been lifted from my shoulders came crashing back down on me with that one bill, along with the hopeless feeling of never being able to escape their trap! It was an incredible eye opener that showed me just what all that stress was doing to my body and mind and soul.

Now I try to avoid stress as much as possible, in every walk of my life. You can't avoid everything, but you can try to adjust how you feel about things, not let them bother you as much, etc. The spirituality factor comes in here.

But definitely get the help you need. If it's a natural supplement, then great. If it's medicine, and it works for you, then great too. Counseling, support groups, friends.....hell, even vitamin D makes a difference. We get it typically from sunshine, and there is less of that in winter, which is when a lot of people's depression worsens. Luna, you might consider this. You've been working nights for some time. Of course I'm not saying that Vitamin D will solve everything, but it doesn't hurt anything to take it, and it might help.

 

[Annisthyrienne]

I fucking love you.

The feeling is mutual.

 

[Luna_Wolf72]

Sorry, but this line is bullshit. No redeeming value? You think flirting has no value? If it weren't for uninhibited flirts, how would the rest of us know when we look beautiful? And being made to feel beautiful is a beautiful thing in and of itself.

Even if this were not so, you are (from what I can tell) a damn good mom and a fierce friend. Both of these things are in short supply.

No redeeming value?

Ah...bullshit.

Tons of hugs and kisses.

Thanks LL~I wasn't denigrating myself though. I am (usually) a tom boi/flirt/sexual demon. So it is very rare for me to try and lead a discussion. My job pays my bills, feeds my kids and makes me (mostly) happy~even though I am living from check to check. So for most of society~I am just part of the unwashed masses and really don't CARE to be anything else.

However I shall take ALL the hugs and kisses, cuz I need em.

Some of you mention medications, others of you don't. I think it is true that each has to find their own path to coping with depression; but I hope those of you that have chosen not to take medications have done so after careful consideration.

Years ago, I would never consider taking medications. I did a self-mind-fuck about if I took the pill, would it then really be me, or somebody else. I finally hit a point in my life where I realized that it was more important to get out of the ditch I had dug, than worry about me or not-me. I've never been on meds long term, but I have had them when I hit a rock bottom.

Like some other's have mentioned, I have read about cognative psychology, and I agree with its principles. However, if and when you have a chemical imbalance, you may not be able to rely on thinking or talking your way out of depression. When the chemical imbalance gets too great, even our logical thinking can be tinted.

If I were to make an analogy, my partner had 5 bypasses a year ago. He now has to take high blood pressure medicine, a small dose of asprine (blood thinning properties), and some other pills. I assume he will be on those for the rest of his life. He might see it as a failure. He may see it as taking "unnatural substances". He may see it as not being the "real him". However, the fact remains that it keeps him alive and as healthy as one can be with 5 bypasses in you early 50's.

We should view depression the same way. Your brain uses neural transmitters to communicate, and they can get out of imbalance. You don't have to feel ashamed to take pills if they help you. Now, I did have problems taking them long term, as they all had affects that I didn't like. I loved Prozac because It was a great way to loose weight. I got down to the weight I hadn't seen since college. However, I would wake up in the middle of the night and my brain would be buzzing. Plus, another side affect (one that I've seen with several of the anti-depresants) was impotence. For a guy, that is a big deal. Dealing with impotence can contribute to existing depression.

The last time I took anti-depressants was Dec 2003. It was after my grandma who raised me died. Now even "normal" people would be depressed over such a thing. However, I couldn't get past it. It was constantly on my mind. The pills helped (I forget what the med was, but I believe it was supposed to deal with two neural transmitters.) I might have taken it longer, but I got better and the physician assistant left. I just didn't feel comfortable talking to my MD about it, so I stopped when the perscription ran out. I believe I was ok.

Roll forward to 3 years ago, and I started dealing with SO much stress about trying to deal with having a farm -- all the bills, and the fact that my partner's views on money sometimes make me just want to walk away from it all. I've saved all my life, and he thinks nothing about spending money right and left. My savings is like a piggy bank with a big hole in the belly. Just the other day he wasted $110.00 (his own money I wll add) on a stupid Japaneese Maple. It would have been more prudent to spend that on farm bills, than a stupid ornamental tree that doesn't even make fruit for us or for our animals.

I also stress about every time I loose an animal. I wasn't cut out for farming even though I love aspects of rural life. I even stress when a stupid chicken dies. (FYI, I haven't killed anthing except possums, and racoons and an owl since they killed my animals. I''d love to kill some hawks for all the chickens they killed -- before I realize that free ranging isn't all it is cut out to be. When I hear coyotes at night it freaks me out.) I am not a vagan, but it is one thing to buy deli meat slices, vs killing a living, breathing, thinking animal that you have loved, protected, raised, and fed.

All these issues here at the farm eat away at me. Most of my days are like being in someone elses body, where I think to myself: "THIS IS NOT MY LIFE!"

(NOTE: I don't see these things as breaking up with my partner. I'm sure any of you who have long term relationships know that money can be a real big stresser. Yes some times I could scream, but for the other 30 years I was sexually active and open to a relationship, they all failed misserably for one reason or another. Someone who can stick by your side in the good times and the bad times, is like finding a diamond in the sand. Despite these issues, I'm crazy about him. We will have been involved for 9 years this comming Labor Day, and I do count my blessings. Also note, I am NOT his sugar daddy.)


Other stressors is fear of my weight gain moving me over to diabetes which killed my dad. (I dont' mind exercising, but I don't seem to cut calories way back which is the only real solution in my case.) I also cannot get enought sleep. I have insomnia for which I use a CPAP unit, but even so, I get at max 6 hours sleep.

Another recent stressor is that my mother is showing signs of dementia. I may be forced to put her in a nursing home. In some ways we aren't real close since grandma raised me -- due to my mothers bi-polar condition. (Yes, it RUNS in my family!) However, I wanted her to be happy, and I know she will sense a nursing home as being institutionalized again. Plus she loves animals like me. (Cats in this case.) No place will take four cats, & they are like her kids. They are the reason she gets up in the moring, and I am supposed to take them away from her???
FYI, I cannot take them myself as farm is infiltrated with bobcat fever which is passed by ticks. (I've lost two cats already, and may very well have lost a third cat that I tried to keep inside for the two ears I had him, but he got out 3 weeks ago, and has never re-appeared. I fear for him since the ticks are now in season again.) The desease is 95% fatal to all felines (except of course for bobcats). It is a HORRIBLE, painful way to die. So anyway, I worry what to do with her cats.

Likewise, I worry about the house that half belongs to me, the other half to the state since the state paid grandma's nursing home towards the end. Grandma wanted me to fix that up. Another guilt trip if I don't, but the house needs work which can be done, but it is 360 miles away, so it will be expensive and difficult to do so. Plus, that house has posessions that belong to my great great, great, and grandparents as well as my mother and myself. My grandma, her sisters, my mother were all visual artists -- naily oil paintings. I want some part of my grandma's life to go on. So I don't want to throw away any of her paintings nor other things that are sentamental, but I don't have the space to keep it all. Plus, all of this brings back up my own feelings of failure with my grandma.

Any of you who have dealt with nursing homes may have had to deal with loved ones who wanted to go home, but you knew that they could not take care of themselves, and that even you yourself could not give them the constant level of care they need. You know you made the right decision in your head, but your heart tells you failed them. Every time you visit them and they ask to go home it hurts to tell them no.

Anyway, so far I'm managing WITHOUT medications, but I may have to seek some out again. One could argue that one's issues are legit reasons to be depressed. That is true, but everybody deals with similar issues and goes on. On the surface I go on too, but there are tell tail symptoms of my own depression. For me, I procrastinate things because I dread them. I also avoid responsibilities when I don't want to deal with them. I know myself well enough to know it isn't just laziness or irresponsiblity.

So from all these rambling, I guess what I was trying to convey is that with depression learn yourself well enough to determine the difference between normal sadness and lingering negative feeilngs that are depression. Be willing to use whatever it takes to fight it -- including pills if it comes to that. After all, the only life we know about for sure is this one, so make it count and make it as happy as you can.

none2~

Thank you. I wanted to know about other people's dealings because it helps me to put my own into some sort of perspective. Clinical depression and bi-polar run through both sides of my family so I know that when I get like this I need something~talking it out just won't fix it.

Personally, I think you are a very strong person to deal with your stressors and not require medicine yet. That says a lot about the type of person you are but the truth is until I know that the clinical depression diagnosis (from age 14 and again at 21 when I attempted suicide) is correct I can't take my meds. I have been on zoloft off and on for years (with trazadone to help me sleep as I suffer severe bouts of insomnia) but if I have been misdiagnosed, the zoloft will push me closer to suicidal behaviours. That is scary, considering where my brain was before I started this talk, this thread.

And the thing is, I want to learn about other people. I NEED to. It's in my make-up. Be noisy, talk, flirt outrageously~even when you hurt. That is what I do. When I can no longer even fake it? It's time for help. So thank you for coming and sharing. Thank you for taking the time. Most people don't or won't. I appreciate that YOU have.

CJ~

I appreciate your dropping in. The more I see of you, the gladder I am to know you. You are a complete gentleman.