Sometimes it hits when I least expect it. Sometimes it starts as something small and becomes huge. There is no predictability to it except for it always comes.
For as long as I can remember, I have suffered from depression. There is a genetic component to it, I am sure, as my father has suffered from it. And I had a brother that did as well.
I once tried medication for it but stopped when that made me feel even worse. So I deal with it, the best I can, for as long as I can. Nothing really helps but time.
Yesterday evening it hit again, hard. One of the hardest hits in recent memory. I don't know why; like I said, it is unpredictable. I had just had a nice evening with one of my best friends and when she left my house, the darkness set in, literally and figuratively.
I tried to figure out what was wrong. I analyze everything to death. I know I was sad because the Broncos lost to the Raiders. I know this brought back old, buried feelings of how hard I used to take Dallas Cowboys losses. This was the very reason I had turned my back on football, yet was I there again?
It was Sunday night and I started to become anxious about work because I feel like a failure at work. I feel like I have been let down, but that I also have let others down, mainly myself. Those old familiar feelings of going back to school after a weekend off haunted me.
I felt bored and like life was not all I had hoped it would be. I thought about my relationship with my boyfriend and how I wished it was more exciting, deep and stimulating. I wondered if it ever would be or if I just needed to be content. What did content mean?
I thought about my inadequacy on every other level: friend, mother, daughter. I just wanted to disappear.
Though I often feel better in the light of day, when I woke this morning I did not. I didn't want to get out of bed or even go to Starbucks. This was indeed serious if I could not even get in the car to go get my daily coffee fix.
I reached out to friends and heard from other friends. Several were also struggling. I prayed for them and they said they would pray for me. Realizing I am not alone helps.
I know this will pass. It always does. I know, in my heart and in my mind, that I have much to be thankful for. I can still reason, though many sink so low they see no way out. This has never been me and I know it won't be me now.
But I need to write about this. For one thing, it is therapeutic. For another, it is a real thing, to me and to millions of others in the World who struggle. We have it in common. What we also have in common is value. Yes. We. All. Have. Value.
Each and every one of us.
Depression
