How Looking At What I Have, Battles My Once Chronic Depression

I had always hoped the day would come that I would be able to put out there on the World Wide Web the answer. The answer I believe now I was born searching for.   I think too much and the story is long with many experiences along the way leading me to the answer to this riddle.  I will save that for a book I hope to write someday and do my best to keep it in short form for the desperate souls out there that were once me.  In 2003, again bathed in a dark sea of depression I sat before my computer and the blinking cursor of the search bar.  I became so overcome with frustration, having been medicated, counseled, and read hundreds of self help books, I was sure if I was diligent enough I would find the tool that would make me want to live, and not view life just as something to be tolerated. It was one of those moments you think back on and you can recall every detail about where you were, how you felt, the furniture and its arrangement.  I pushed myself back from my computer and made a promise to myself that day. I swore that if and when I ever found something that would heal me of this awful state of mind I would share it with others.  

All my life I knew I was unlike most people, or less able to lie to hide it.  Yet my time spend on  the internet those few years I knew there were others who felt as I did, who struggled in a hell that cannot be told of in words.    I am not a morning person, then I was not a day or night person. No matter when it was I awoke from sleep, I didn’t want to wake. The first time the idea of suicide was considered an option in my head was when I was 15 I think, off and on for the next 25 years the idea or the just plain feeling awful prevailed. Only once in the heat of an argument, of my wasted unhealthy marriage did I out of frustration and impulse and stupidity do anything to take myself out, and as soon as I swallowed I was trying to get them out.  I always knew the idea or thought of it was not sane, and not an answer to my pain.  I felt there had to be some purpose for my miserable existence.   Yet even today I think it was as though my brain was out to see me dead.  It’s like it was not a part of me, this thought.  Once I remember life seemed fine, I had everything I could possible want, no problems financially, medically. I was in love, the kids were getting along, I tell you I was in utter disbelief that there I was flat on my back unable to get out of bed.  A lot has happened since then, that was in my twenties, I won’t go into all the diagnosis applied to me over my life, for I kind of feel in telling you I somehow grant the symptoms of them power.  My life is not perfect, I have never been happier though, and I am going to keep on getting happier, the older I get, the happier I am.  After I emerged from my last depression in 08, or popped out, it was almost immediate, I decided I better take notes this time so that I could compare my thinking if I ever slid back to the black abyss.  Long story short, I came to find Gratitude. I also learned that what I think about, I give power too, whether it be good or bad. So I began making a daily gratitude list of things I was grateful I had.  I still slip as though my brain after years of running the same track easily I can get stuck in the whole counting of all that I am lacking in my life.  For me it snowballs.  So I must make a routine of it because it saves my life, and it makes me want to wake up and continue to be here for those who would live on with pain if I ever took my own life.

Every day, write three things for which you are glad you have, doesn’t matter where you write it just so that you do.  What it does is changes your focus to something positive instead of negative.  Also I am cautious, of verbalizing any “tags” I have been given over my life.   I am now looking for what is right with me after a lifetime of the opposite.  And now I am finding finally that life is good and I was meant to be happy and share that joy with others. 

showmethelove showmethelove
41-45, F
2 Responses Mar 15, 2010

Hmmm re-reading this now it seems sloppy and doesn't make sense in the structure of the story. I just today asked someone I know who is homeless to everyday make a list of that which he is grateful. Seems a mean thing to do almost, but really it's all about how we perceive life, how we process our thoughts of it.

I see theres no resonses to such a wonderful inspiring experience entry ( It is still recent ) so, in turn, I get to be the first. Im also sorry you had to feel the pain of depression and am happy for you that you have overcome it. When I was a bit younger I had a friend who got all into positive thinking, his approach to totally dismiss negative issues seemed not quite the answer. I have found trying to turn them around or look at them differently helpful with them and dealing with them. Also the labeling thing really feel ya on that one. words like trash, a hate word. My love of the street people and doing what I can to help them is in no way understood by my surviving familey and friends. This quick evaluation and judgement people do to others is quite negative. Be it a homeless drug addict. One of an expressive style, sexuality or people of different cultures. Once while downtown sleeping on the street, trying to handel buisiness I had to attend to while flat broke. A man told me I had to love my enemies or ones who had done me wrong. Me, having everything figured out said I didn't, that me and god had It worked out I just didn't have to hate them. I was wrong, trying to love them has had a noticeable difference on my life.I didn't intend to really share this with you personally as a result of reading your experience just thought I'd throw it in.