Here Is My Introduction
I am 42 and have been battling depression for about 26 years. It all started after I was repeatedly physically, psychologically, and emotionally abused by my mother. I think the defining moment for my disease was when at 15 I was raped. I honestly believe I turned the last corner at that point. The downhill spiral started and never really stopped.
I have gone through therapy in the past along with different medication combinations. It would help at first and then the darkness returned. Emotionally I shut down sometime in my teens and have since just glimpsed the possibility of happiness, even when on meds. I did go through quite a few years of what I would call sanity in which I felt as though I had taken the necessary steps to keep the depression at least at bay; and when the episodes would return I found ways to cope, or so I thought. What I have found is that it is an insidious part of my very essence; it lurks in the depths of my soul only to creep out and manifest its ugly existence once again.
As can probably be expected my relationships are few and far in between. Friends are few, lovers even scarcer. I have just started talking to my dad and his family; my mother and I will never see eye to eye. She is the major trigger for my episodes. She can trigger within me such strong negative emotions that I often feel as though I could just scream at her and see if she would get it; but she would not, she has a narcissistic personality and would never see just how her behavior then has affected me even now.
A good friend of mine wants me to get help. She sees me more as a rapid cycler (bipolar) than depressed. I think and know she is right; I can see the symptoms in myself. However, I find that I just don't want to face the past yet again, the pain yet again; not to mention the repercussions of living as a bipolar. I guess I am just afraid of the stigma. Right now I am also in my last semester of nursing school which adds to the whole stress and anxiety of the situation; I have to try and figure out just how is it that I am going to fit therapy sessions in an already overwhelmingly busy schedule. Yet I know that I need to find answers. I started taking my effexor once again (I had stopped it once I thought I started managing better), I guess I will have to talk to my doctor to see just what I can do.
My hope is that in sharing here, it will help me to find solace and community. In doing so perhaps I can not only heal myself but maybe help another as well