Are you depressed?

September 7, 2015

I am depressed. As in the diagnosis. For those who don’t know about clinical “major depression,” I will tell about it. The question, “Well, what are you depressed about?” is not germane to this topic.
I have a memory of being a child of 5 who threw a tearful tantrum because my mother found the gifts for her I had stashed in the basement on top of the foundation wall. I remember the feeling of hopelessness. The sorrow. The tears. How I loved my mother! I’ve long wondered if my depression manifested then. Perhaps, but I allow, perhaps not.
Oh, I made excuses for myself throughout my life. When I walked to work in the early 80s I seriously contemplated throwing myself in front of a car. Does everyone do that? Yes. I think they probably do. Do they do that each time they walk to work? Month after month? No. I did.
Where am I going with this? Well, my depression is getting worse. Oh, don’t worry! I’m not suicidal. I have insight into my condition and I love my friends and family way, way to much to hurt them so severely for such a long, long time! It’s just that depression is, well, painful. I know it is treatable with medicine that a doctor can prescribe.
Depression is real. My internist treats my condition as a medical condition and prescribes medicine. I will phone him tomorrow. Well no.
Instead, I will phone his nurse tomorrow, because talking to him directly is impossible. He must have a couple thousand patients! I plan to tell his nurse how the depression has been worsening. It has. Some days it is paralyzing. I have a lot of trouble getting out of bed. When I do get up I want to go back to bed.
One way I am most convinced my depression is worse is that my spouse often tells me that I look sad. I know I do. I can’t help it! Also, my kids are starting to tell me that they are worried. I’ll bet the people I rehearse our play with wouldn’t have thought I am depressed. But I try to sparkle there!
I don’t want to feel “good.” I just don’t want to feel so damned “bad.” I consider feeling slightly bad to be normal.
Again, where am I going with this? Every year my family supports a group that has a fund raiser to fight suicide. It is called “Out of the Darkness.” The annual walk will be this month, so I am thinking about it, even though I will not be able to participate because of my involvement with the musical play, “The Fantasticks.”
Again, I don’t know where I am going with this.