I Don't Know If It Is A Battle ...
I have been diagnosed with Dysthymia for many years, I have tried various anti-depressants but knowing so much about pharmaceutical companies and the invalid and unreliable testing done for the drugs I stopped chemical consumption. It was my choice and decision to do so. I don't rag on people who prefer to take meds, this is just something I rather not do.
I can honestly say that one med I took was helping for a while but then a plateau was reached and never really went anywhere from there. I feel sometimes so sad but I think my life is a bit sad. Has anyone every experienced what I have? yes! absolutely, am I the only person who has experienced though situations...no Sir...
I have a lot of insight, I use it to help me through each and everyday. I have my kids who pretty much are the glue that holds me together. I have to work because I am a sole provider, I have to accomplished so much because I was raised to accomplish, to have titles and degrees but it is sad for me to enjoy them so little. I push myself to enjoy them more but if you have depression -real depression- you know how we do... you know how hard is to find enjoyment, and you also know how easy it is to LOOK happy but be completely detached from that feeling in the inside.
I am going to tell you my story, so it is going to get very crude and (no pun intended) depressing. I don't do it to stir any weird feelings or sympathy simply I have never done it and I think there is some sort of relief once you do...so here I go.
My dad passed away when I was 2. My mom remarried when I was 4 and when I was 6 I began being molested by my step-dad. I told my mom when I was 12, she called me a liar. He left when I was 16, he came back the next day, when my mom wasn't there to ask me to move in with him. My dad's family never cared about me (6 brothers, 2 sisters...a sht load of cousins). I did not understand that. My maternal grandmother did not care for me either, always chose my other cousins... had no clue why... No one from either family really cared more than what they needed to care. My life were my friends. I managed to be what would be considered an A student, Honor Rolls...etc, etc. I was accepted into law school. but then...
When I was 17 my mom brought me to a new country, she literally plucked me out of my comfort zone where I had friends that loved me. I was raised to obey, never defy your elders it was just the way to be. In this new country I could not find new friends, I was not the right size, not cool enough, not pretty enough, not wild enough, no one wanted to reach out or let me in. I was lonely. Finally made some friends... to my demise, all international students who left the country after a couple of years.
I met a guy. Not quite the best guy but he said he loved me. My possessive mom refused to accept any relationship... I was 20. She fought and fought and decided to move back to my country. I was "in love" I married him secretly... my mom left. Happy ending?
Not really. Guy shows his true colors pretty soon after my mom left (no family in this country, not that it mattered anyhow). Mom cuts all communication, disowns me, disappointed, ashamed of me. True colors: controlling, abusive -physically, emotionally. Pre-marriage had a healthy sense of self despite of everything else, he managed to completely destroy it. Lower than low self esteem kicks in, I am in for the long haul.
Had my first kid, yes I thought, this will change him. Nope, it didn't happen. Had my second kid which by the way according to him is not his. Tried to kill myself - my oldest saves me...how? his 1 1/2 year old self steps into the room as I contemplate a bottle of Valium as an exit... .
It took a lot of planning, a lot of humiliation and a lot of patience. I decided to be how he needed me to be, docile, compliant, a puppet. He was stupid enough to allow me some liberties like working and a a car. On good Friday 1996 I flew the coup. I ended up in a shelter. I called my mom. She came over, said she believed me but it hurt her more than me... (how in hell - i thought).
Forward 5 years, had a steady job, had my own place (rental but ok). My mom had been living with me and there was a lot of anymosity, a lot of weird feelings around us. Sometimes she treated me like I was a burden. She fell ill but recovered from cancer. During that time I found out my dad rescued me from a person who had me who did not want me and wanted to give me away...rewind - remember how my family didn't care about me...including my grandma...ding! ding! ding!... now I know why!!!! My mom told me. She died soon thereafter. I was devastated, no matter what, she was my mom. I was alone, raising two kids. Denial kicked in... went back to school, got a bachelor's degree. enrolled in masters degree.
Let me just add that by no means I have been a saint or a victim of my circumstances. I have partied, I have drank, I have done things no one in their right mind should do -regarding sex- for some reason and some great reason at that, I had never taking a liking to drugs, but sex, well that can be a drug too. SO I have been bad, I have done things that I am ashamed of some of them capital sins, some of them broken commandments. I have done some wrong things to people and I know some people have been hurt by me. I was cruel to some that did not deserve it and even though I have not had the opportunity to apologize I am sadden by my actions.
Am I perfect now? very far from it. I carry with me a log of scars, some of which will probably never heal but I also have a bundle of lessons and experiences that have made me a strong person.
I feel alone a lot and I do have a dream of someday meeting someone who can love me and respect me the way I deserve it. I have two fantastic kids despite all the teen angst they put me through. My 17year old self would not recognize me now and I think I am better for it. I just don't know if I am ever going to be unbroken, not while I am part of a broken system like this world. I have hope that one day I will be whole again, until then, I battle with life, with love, with my own demons, I battle in silence, before I go to sleep, everyday when no one or nothing occupies my thoughts I submit to my depression, sometimes it overcomes me, sometimes I overcome it. It is a struggle more than a battle and it is great that some days I WIN!