Tuesday, December 27, 2011

ain't gonna "rise and shine"

I used to have a ritual every morning upon rising in which I would call to mind Psalm 118:24: "This is the day which the Lord hath made, we will rejoice and be glad in it". I was on board with the truth that the Lord had given me another 24 hours. Thankful, too. I'm nothing if not grateful for all the things I have been blessed with (even if I don't seem that way to others). But to "rejoice"? To "be glad in it"? Now those are not easy things to do. At least not for me. 

I want to believe that my inability to truly be happy and joyful at the prospect of another day is a nasty by-product of bipolar disorder. The slight downward swing, in particular. I do take an anti-depressant, and I think it is effective, to the extent, probably, that such medications can be for someone who has suffered with BP for as long as I have...for the last few years I had come to the conclusion that I'd rather deal with the depression that had made it's home in my soul than to mess around with the medication combination that I had been prescribed. It seemed to be working. For almost three decades I chose not to take medicine at all (perhaps not a wise decision, but under the circumstances I felt it was the only one). When I committed, in 2006, to seriously work with medications I did so with the main goal of avoiding a manic episode such as the one that convinced me I HAD to do something. 

I had faith in my doctor. She's no longer in private practice but if she were I would still be seeing her. Her knowledge of psychiatric medications was second to none. She spent a lot of time telling me about options, possible side-effects (of great concern to me) and explaining how they worked in the brain. I was lost most of the time, but I realized she knew what she was doing and I developed trust in her. Unfortunately economic concerns forced her to return to work for the state and by the time my depression really began to "solidify" we were  no longer in touch.

So I just let it be. At first the swing towards the upper end would relieve some of the symptoms, but as time went by I came to realize just how pervasive the depression had become. 

You know, I see all these commercials on tv, "Is it difficult for you to stay motivated? Do you sometimes feel hopeless? Have you lost interest in things that once seemed important to you?", basically some drug company or another trying to market a new drug for depression, and I have to wonder if "depression" has become nothing more than a code word for "I'm in a bad mood a lot of the time" or "I can't deal with *insert petty concern here* and it makes me sad all the time" and blah blah blah. These people wouldn't know depression if it were a narcotic you could shoot straight into their veins. I'm not putting everyone who thinks they are actually clinically depressed in the same box, because obviously a lot of them really are. But with the pervasiveness of all these adverts you'd think that depression was the "Next-Big-Thing".

Depression, or at least I should say "depression as I have known it", is not going to be persuaded by an ad campaign to be treated. It is like a heavy weight, and that sounds like I'm using figurative language, but really I'm not: you can actually physically feel it, like a huge invisible hand pressing you down. The hate that builds up within you centers in your brow and forehead and before long you have a permanent scowl. You get annoyed at the slightest little thing. Anger and bitterness are like air to breathe and cynicism becomes second nature. You know you're making your family miserable, but you also know that it is the DEPRESSION that is doing it, not you. As if that makes any difference. Either way you're leaving a bad impression on the ones you love. Who knows what my depression has instilled within my son as he's grown up trying to deal with it? Knowing that only throws gasoline on the fire of self-loathing. And all this builds up and gets worse over time.

Anyway, that's been my individual experience. I only brought it up to show why I decided it was essential to add an anti-depressant to my medication regiment. The doctor at the behavioral center put me on Welbutrin. I hoped it would work but I wasn't putting any money on it. A month went by and, believe it or not, I sensed a little relief. I don't remember if it was ENOUGH relief to get my hopes up too high but it was a start. The next month I seemed to be a little better still. In the course of a few months I could actually feel the difference. I'm not 100% cured, I don't think anyone is ever completely cured of depression (just as bipolar disorder is not curable). But I'll take it. 

So, "this is the day which the Lord hath made, we will rejoice and be glad it it"...I guess I do have a lot to be thankful for. Much to rejoice over, whether it "feels" like rejoicing or not. I can be "glad in it", because I know what it is to live the opposite. I do believe I'm alive and well only because God has been merciful to create for me another day. If it's difficult to recite Psalm 118:24 as if it were a mantra every morning it's only because I'm grumpy getting out of bed. Lots of folks like that, it doesn't nullify the sentiment of the verse. 

Better the Psalm than "Rise and Shine!!!" Oh how I hate that phrase.   

No comments:

Post a Comment