Suicide and Depression

            I have put a lot of thought about this post… I didn’t know if it’s too early to talk about it but I think it’s important regardless how hard it’s going to be because of the relation between depression and suicide.

            First, I would like to say that I never had the urge of putting an end to my suffering. Some refer to this as “not being brave enough”… I personally think brave is the one that keeps fighting, quitters can’t be called brave. And for those saying admitting a defeat takes courage I’ll say life can only defeat you with death, surrender before is not an act to be proud of.

            I’ve red pretty upsetting comments about people “supporting” Robin Williams choice. I’m sure they didn’t go thru depression because one thing I know for sure is that it wasn’t my choice to not being able to smile for days, incapable of getting out of bed or feeling constantly miserable… It wasn’t his choice to kill him, it was his disease. Depression is a serious and common disease and it happens to work like any other. You don’t choose to be depressed the same way you don’t choose to have diabetes.

            Reading this sort of things I realize how strong the stigma of depression remains. People still comment on others if they happen to know someone was going to therapy, and then it all gets crazy if they happen to go to the psychiatrist. I find it repulsing. Will you ever judge someone for going to the doctor? Or a cancer patient for receiving Chimo? I don’t think so… So why is it that we had to put up with judgments for admitting we needed professional help and for making everything in our hands for getting better?

            I don’t know what kept Robin from reaching out. I understand shame could be it, but I hope it wasn’t that being surrounded by people no one was patient enough to see what was hiding behind his smile.

Happy news

Today’s entry is probably one of the most specials… My best friends, my soul mate, my sister and one of the loves of my life is in labor. I’ll kill to be by her side right now, sharing this moment. I have told you about her multiple times… She got married 5 years ago and since then she’s been going thru so much… She has been suffering anxiety attacks and depression. I’m honored to say we fought that together. 

I remember when I first realized I needed professional help but was so scare to go to a consultation… I told her and I didn’t even asked her, she said she’ll pick me up from work. And so she did. We walked together to the doctors, we waited patiently, she held my hand and waited for me outside. She’s been every step of my recovery process.

One of her sources of pain and anxiety was having a baby. Today she is having a baby. All of her fears are gone; she is exited and can’t wait to see his little face. Neither can I. So far she is only 6 cms, epidural on and trying to get some rest. I didn’t call and I’m trying not to disturb every 5 minutes but it’s really hard. 

I pray for her and her baby to be Ok. I know they will be but just in case I made sure she understood I was by her side and that I loved her. It made us cry, but those are happy tears, well deserved ones if you ask me. These tears are a gift, they prove you can make it through anything. You can kick depression and anxiety if you keep fighting. As it turns out they’re weaker than what you thought.

To care or not to care.

They say rough times either kill you or make you stronger. I can't tell what they're doing to me. This week is been intense, in two days I had people crying on the phone. Amazingly enough I felt nothing, I was mostly annoyed. When did this happen? I used to empathize with everyone around me. I guess you could consider it a problem sometimes because I couldn't help of feeling sorry and think about others people problems. But this "problem" was also a good thing, I was a good listener and it showed I cared (and that I had feelings).

Is it possible that I'm now immune to the suffering of the others? I hope not because the answer to my question will then have to be KILL. To me not caring about the others equals being dead inside (and I don't want to be dead!) No amount of suffering could make you forget that there are others also suffering. It's necessary to acknowledge that because if you don't you might become selfish and self-centered. 

After discussing this with my lovey-dovey he says it's probably because I'm getting used to do my job, I don't think it's a very good excuse. I think as part of my job I need to be able to stay connected to the people. But he's grateful I'm taking distance with other's people problems. 

Two points of view... But I need to feel good about myself so I'll work on it. 

Certificates and stupid questions

Oh, Am I pissed..?!?! I've never been treated like that before... Let me explain, you will understand. Before you can get your driver’s license you need a doctor to analyze if you might have any kind of physical or psychological which will make you unsuitable for driving. 

One of the questions was if I had visited a psychiatrist or psychologist in the last 5 years, I answered yes because it's true and because I'm not ashamed. I needed help, it was very painful to admit it but I did it and somehow, even before going to the doctor my cured had started just by asking for help. The woman went crazy, all alarms went off, they put me in a separate room and they had I psychologist asking questions about how often I wanted to kill myself. 

I was released from treatment 11 months ago. It was hard, it was (as it is now) a fight but I manage to do it. Even in the deepest moments I never had the intention of killing myself, not even once. She made me go back to that time where getting out of bed was painful and honestly I don't think it was necessary. They made me feel weak, and ashamed... But only for a minute. 

I decided I wasn't going to give them the power of ruining my day, of ruining the experience of getting my driver’s license, which is something I'm enjoying a lot. Having a psychological decease is not something to be ashamed off. I believe there is still a stigma about psychological deceases. Absurd, isn't it? I don't think I'm any different from any other person with a physical condition... We both needed doctors, meds, support... 

I left with the freaking certificate but I'm never going back there. 

Long talks

At pretty much the same time I was pressing "publish" for the last post I realized I needed a looooong conversation with my husband. Where's the point of writing this down and live it to no use? So that's how we spend our evening. It wasn't the most pleasant time, but it felt so great to lift that pain off my shoulders. We shared things that were making our marriage suck and made the commitment of working on the things that are annoying about us. What we said to each other, might be hurtful but we were careful to use a regular tone (no screaming allowed) bad words were left aside and everything we said was because it had to be said. 

We started by exposing what things were bothering us. Then the other had a moment to answer to those "accusations" and finally we moved on to possible solutions. They were tears, I cry all the time, sometimes for no reason. But it had to be said, we needed to say those things, it was a burden slowing us up. 

It is my believe that getting married is a forever commitment so every problem, every fight is something we are forced to overcome. We know none of us thinks about jumping the boat under any circumstance so there is a double consequence: the sense of security and a huge responsibility. Sense of security because you know you can screw it up because he has my back. This only works if it's equal for both parties. And the huge responsibility of being the best version of yourself in order to avoid making each others life hell. 

Today he cooked for me, I cooked for him. We laughed and kissed. 

Big black dog

Have you seen the video about depression compared to a black dog? Here, highly recommended: 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XiCrniLQGYc

Well for a couple of days my dog has been growing... And last night was bad. It was one of those nights when I was exhausted but I couldn't manage to fall sleep. All I was able to do was crying. I guess I'm overwhelmed by having left a decent job, moved to a different city where after 4 months I haven't met anyone, losing my economic independence and stability, feeling lost, alone, not appreciated, stupid, annoying... It started like that and then my head decided to go down memory lane and awful memories came to town.

I woke up feeling like shit (at least I managed to sleep 4 hours), got up, dressed up... I did everything in my "get better program" relating to external appearance: dress-nicely-wear-make-up (you know my theory on how external appearances might lead to change the way you fell inside)... Today it's not working. Someday I don't manage to make things work, It's one of those so at this point I'm just hoping it will go fast. 

Stay strong, Fight! 

Weekends and get aways

Exciting news!!! It's raining again... And I'm wearing black!!! I don't know why! It just happened.. I was on a hurry today and I forgot about my resolutions. It probably means I haven't interiorized the whole program but I'm not giving up!!

The weekend was amazing. We decided to pack our bags and get to know a little more about the area where we are leaving so off we went. Narrow roads, wineries along the road, small villages... And finally we made it to the hotel:

Our hotel was a monastery until the XIXth when the government decided to confiscated a lot of the properties belonging to the Catholic Church. The building is beautiful and they made such a wonderful job making it a hotel and mixing old and new trends in deco. 

As for the view... What can I say?? I have no words to describe it...We got to hike around and took a boat to see the mountains from a different point of view and it made us feel so small. And it made me think, those mountains, those trees, they will remain long after I leave this world but they'll be there. Our time here is limited and therefore we need to make the most of it. Assume we will suffer, assume we will laugh, assume we might not have it all, assume life is a constant fight and that it's ok to stop and rest a few minutes. It's ok as long as after the rest we go back to the game and fight the hell out of life. 

Doctors... oh my!

Helloooooo! Big news, I went to the doctor yesterday, an eye doctor. I felt like I had something in my eye... Turns out I had nothing but what could be the "dry eye syndrome". He sent my to an specialist and I might have a autoimmune disease which means my body is attacking himself... Wow... What a beautifull irony. I've been psochologically atacking me and now that I'm mostly fine, my body starts doing crazy thing.

The sickness is called the sjorgen syndrome. There are two types, one mostly unconfortable and the other one is related to veeeeery scaaaaaary stronger autoimmune deceases I rather not mention. So far the doctors think it's probably the not so scary because of the non external signs but I have to go on monday for a blood test.

I think I need to say I hate doctors ever since what happend to my dad. I think what happened to me yesterday was my biggest fear come true. Go to the doctor for a regular visit or something stupit like I think I have a peace of shit in my eyer, and leave with cancer. Ok, not cancer but autoimmune. Potato, potatoe.

I now I have to wait for the results but I'm scared as hell. I can't help it.

Introductions and life experience

Hi! I'm Me. Two years ago I had given up on myself. After my dad lost the battle to leukemia I was completely destroyed. 

The battle against cancer was fierce and my mum and I like to think myself made sure my dad wasn't alone on the battlefield. We actually won the first battle, he was able to go back home, eat all he wanted and live a normal life (I won't lie, the process was very hard on all of us but worth it every sweat drop of it). A few months later we lost the war and we lost me.

Besides for the fact of losing him which was obviously devastating I also made a new acquaintance, the postwar syndrome also known as depression. It took me way too long to ask for help but I'm glad I did, but I'm not glad I rushed into stopping the treatment because I realize now I wasn't ready. 

My doctors said it was a very common reaction. I wasn't comforted by that, actually nothing brought me comfort these days. When my dad went back to the hospital I remember going there at my lunch break to spend it with him. I spent most of my weekends with him. When he said goodbye I didn't know what to do at lunch or on weekends. 

It's so ironic. No one wants to live like that, but once you do you rather live it like that than go home without him. I miss him every day. I think about him so much. And the funny thing about it is we weren't that close before he got sick.

I struggle every day to be positive and overcome depression because the horrible thing about it is it never goes away. So I guess I keep fitting, it's just a different battlefield.

This blog is intended to by a safe place to people who can relate to my story. It could be a place to share our pain, our fears...but above all our victories. Because the war I lost that was enough losing for a lifetime. 

Care to join me?