How much of this do I identify with? Almost every word (still shaky on the UFOs, and, as I am significantly older, some song lyric references - although I do know the "world is a vampire one! now stuck in my head, thanks). When we lose the light in November (damn the clock change) and baseball ends... the constant hum of moderate depression I live with can rapidly deepen.
No SSRIs work for me, I lack the liver enzymes to metabolize them (there's a lab test, and I have tried so many).
November...both of my sons were born in November, and both have died, my youngest at 21, followed 9 months later by my oldest at 31.
My youngest lived with severe anxiety, depression, self-harm, OCD, ADD and was emerging with Bipolar 1 (both auditory & visual hallucinations), but I was lucky - he sought, welcomed treatment. My oldest? Became symptomatic at 15, had his first full psychotic break at 17, and was subsequently diagnosed with "schizoaffective disorder with psychotic features" (schizophrenia was driving the train). So many psych hospitalizations, so many residential treatment programs... People who live with Serious Mental Illness are the Bravest People I know. As are those who love them.
For me? I was lucky to have them for as long as I did.
My surviving daughter, my middle adult child, now lives with Borderline Personality Disorder (more modernly referred to as Emotional Dysfunction Personality Disorder), the most treatment-resistant SMI there is. And I can do nothing to help, nothing. Only pick up the phone on the exceedingly rare occasions she calls and tell her how much I love her. To say anything else at all is to send her into a spiral of both anger and depression, and so many other awful things like self-doubt, resentment, fear of abandonment, crippling anxiety.
So - besides severe chronic pain - that's my sack of rocks. Heavier than some, far lighter than others. At least I can be fairly sure of the causes of my depression - profound grief and chronic pain and disability make for a fecking potent cocktail. What do I do for myself? Unfortunately...mostly this, not the nest. And music and reading - writers, musicians and stand-up comedians! are my salvation, my escape.
But what I truly cane here to say is Thank You. Thank you for writing about mental illness, for shining a light on your own depressive episodes. Thank you, from my whole heart. As with your piece on colonoscopies, you are just out here shining a light and saving lives. Seriously, that's the truth - you are letting people know they are not alone, and helping - right now, today, sharing your own story right out loud - to help end the stigma, help others who read your honest, brave words.
Thank you. I wish you a lovely Thanksgiving with family, friends, and a respite from malaise. November is damned hard, every damned year. But we do get through, we do.
"Smile, breathe, and go slowly." ~ Thich Nhat Hanh.
Back to breath. A humble bow, and gratitude. (Practice gratitude, it helps, truly. But I know you already do.)
(Apologies for my over-sharing, and lack of an internal editor. Blergh.)
Started listening to your recommended Liminal Phrames podcast. Not a member of the cult yet (% of cooks in the general community still too high), but it's nice to know that there are others with the same kind of thinking/theorising. Even though I'm an atheist (ok, agnostic), it scratches that "religious itch" for meaning beyond our earthly life we humans have evolved to have.
Thank you for giving voice to these feelings I’ve been feeling so often lately. I’m so with you here across the board...from that competition-bound, blood-sucked sensation, to the suspicion that many of us are yearning for better stories from beyond (be they of UFOs or AI, and all the way to the appreciation of bountiful butts...
My drumming has been my lifelong salvation since 10 years of age. I play in bands but even 30 minutes behind my kit I’m good for another day. And if you’re not a drummer, you can be but don’t have to be. You have permission to hit them as hard as you can.
Drumming not my career or day job but playing in rock and blues bands with friends and strangers since age 14 has been a Godsend.
What’s the difference between a drummer and a large pizza? A pizza can feed a family of four.
I, like you, take citalopram. It helps, but around October/November of each year I start to experience more depression than normal. It seems to be seasonal-affective disorder from not getting enough sunlight.
I use a “SAD” light to take the edge off. I shine it in my eyes for about 15 minutes while reading I’m the morning. It seems to help fairly well. You should give it a shot.
I’m with you, all my family suffer from black moods every now and then. But they seem mild compared to what you experience. Keep cam and carry on I suppose 🙏
I also experience depression. While reading your story, I thought of Leonard Cohen’s lyric (abbreviated here), “There is a crack... in everything. That's how the light gets in. I wish for you to find your light.
been going through the same with all the grief and anger in the world. i find tears are very healing myself, i hope you get to better days quickly, i need to laugh *points at wristwatch*
As a divorced grandmother who for several reasons has spent many of the holiday seasons alone, I get depression. My sisters and I were never close and now are so far apart in worldviews and circumstances that we have little or nothing to talk about. I have a few friends, but this time of year they have family commitments elsewhere.
The world has a dark soul right now. We live in a sea of plenty, but yet, plenty doesn't satisfy our yearnings. We are surrounded by suffering, inequities, and despair while some find life more than full.
You are an empath, as are many who read your musings. It's hard to be content when so many will never find comfort in this world.
Yoga may be good. Guided meditation via Tara Brach online helps me. I don't think the non-human forces from another dimension plan to carry me away from here. I have grandchildren. They are reason enough to forge ahead. ❤️
I feel the same lately. Doing my best to push through it. I find writing helps, hanging out with my kid helps. I realize that you don't know my kid, but I could send him to you.
Thank you Michael for broaching the topic of mental illness with compassion and comedy. I was medically retired from the Coast Guard in 1987 diagnosed with bipolar type 2, at the time, this seemed like a death sentence or curse at best. You writing lifted my spirits this morning in cold Colorado as snowflakes fall. I hope you are aware of the Depressive Bipolar Support Alliance, DBSA.
Through there support groups, I have met many interesting people and come to believe that "normal" might be brutally boring for me.
While in the Coast Guard, I attended a navigational training in the financial district of New York City. Sitting in Battery Park while extremely depressed, I began to garner hope admiring a number 2 pencil. As a teacher following the Coast Guard, I was bombarded with new technology and standardized testing, also extremely depressing. Yet, the number 2 pencil helped me find hope for some unknown reason. I guess at sixty-two the inevitability of aging is unavoidable, and it's comfort to know the number 2 pencil is still hanging in there with me.
As far as lyrics, I am part of a jam session with musicians of all ages and was introduced to the song "Devil Town" all about vampires. I hope you know or learn of the song and enjoy.
Many blessings, keep writing, and enjoy stuffing your face on Thanksgivings. As far as the photos you shared, I don't know the all the other people you mention. Just a lucky guess, I'm guessing you look like you which is fine.
Thanks.
Despite all my rage...letting the days go by...
It is the recurring time of year, the so-called 'holiday season,' when those with mental health challenges seem to have a more difficult time coping.
Sigh...long, forgive. ❤️
How much of this do I identify with? Almost every word (still shaky on the UFOs, and, as I am significantly older, some song lyric references - although I do know the "world is a vampire one! now stuck in my head, thanks). When we lose the light in November (damn the clock change) and baseball ends... the constant hum of moderate depression I live with can rapidly deepen.
No SSRIs work for me, I lack the liver enzymes to metabolize them (there's a lab test, and I have tried so many).
November...both of my sons were born in November, and both have died, my youngest at 21, followed 9 months later by my oldest at 31.
My youngest lived with severe anxiety, depression, self-harm, OCD, ADD and was emerging with Bipolar 1 (both auditory & visual hallucinations), but I was lucky - he sought, welcomed treatment. My oldest? Became symptomatic at 15, had his first full psychotic break at 17, and was subsequently diagnosed with "schizoaffective disorder with psychotic features" (schizophrenia was driving the train). So many psych hospitalizations, so many residential treatment programs... People who live with Serious Mental Illness are the Bravest People I know. As are those who love them.
For me? I was lucky to have them for as long as I did.
My surviving daughter, my middle adult child, now lives with Borderline Personality Disorder (more modernly referred to as Emotional Dysfunction Personality Disorder), the most treatment-resistant SMI there is. And I can do nothing to help, nothing. Only pick up the phone on the exceedingly rare occasions she calls and tell her how much I love her. To say anything else at all is to send her into a spiral of both anger and depression, and so many other awful things like self-doubt, resentment, fear of abandonment, crippling anxiety.
So - besides severe chronic pain - that's my sack of rocks. Heavier than some, far lighter than others. At least I can be fairly sure of the causes of my depression - profound grief and chronic pain and disability make for a fecking potent cocktail. What do I do for myself? Unfortunately...mostly this, not the nest. And music and reading - writers, musicians and stand-up comedians! are my salvation, my escape.
But what I truly cane here to say is Thank You. Thank you for writing about mental illness, for shining a light on your own depressive episodes. Thank you, from my whole heart. As with your piece on colonoscopies, you are just out here shining a light and saving lives. Seriously, that's the truth - you are letting people know they are not alone, and helping - right now, today, sharing your own story right out loud - to help end the stigma, help others who read your honest, brave words.
Thank you. I wish you a lovely Thanksgiving with family, friends, and a respite from malaise. November is damned hard, every damned year. But we do get through, we do.
"Smile, breathe, and go slowly." ~ Thich Nhat Hanh.
Back to breath. A humble bow, and gratitude. (Practice gratitude, it helps, truly. But I know you already do.)
(Apologies for my over-sharing, and lack of an internal editor. Blergh.)
Started listening to your recommended Liminal Phrames podcast. Not a member of the cult yet (% of cooks in the general community still too high), but it's nice to know that there are others with the same kind of thinking/theorising. Even though I'm an atheist (ok, agnostic), it scratches that "religious itch" for meaning beyond our earthly life we humans have evolved to have.
Thank you for giving voice to these feelings I’ve been feeling so often lately. I’m so with you here across the board...from that competition-bound, blood-sucked sensation, to the suspicion that many of us are yearning for better stories from beyond (be they of UFOs or AI, and all the way to the appreciation of bountiful butts...
My drumming has been my lifelong salvation since 10 years of age. I play in bands but even 30 minutes behind my kit I’m good for another day. And if you’re not a drummer, you can be but don’t have to be. You have permission to hit them as hard as you can.
Drumming not my career or day job but playing in rock and blues bands with friends and strangers since age 14 has been a Godsend.
What’s the difference between a drummer and a large pizza? A pizza can feed a family of four.
I, like you, take citalopram. It helps, but around October/November of each year I start to experience more depression than normal. It seems to be seasonal-affective disorder from not getting enough sunlight.
I use a “SAD” light to take the edge off. I shine it in my eyes for about 15 minutes while reading I’m the morning. It seems to help fairly well. You should give it a shot.
https://www.amazon.com/New-Verilux%C2%AE-HappyLight%C2%AE-Lumi-Plus/dp/B08BCLLYN5/ref=mp_s_a_1_1_sspa?adgrpid=55089064974&hvadid=580802737430&hvdev=m&hvlocphy=9017942&hvnetw=g&hvqmt=e&hvrand=11426154250047884184&hvtargid=kwd-2144547981&hydadcr=7849_13503437&keywords=sad+light+therapy&qid=1700514311&sr=8-1-spons&sp_csd=d2lkZ2V0TmFtZT1zcF9waG9uZV9zZWFyY2hfYXRm&psc=1
I’m with you, all my family suffer from black moods every now and then. But they seem mild compared to what you experience. Keep cam and carry on I suppose 🙏
I also experience depression. While reading your story, I thought of Leonard Cohen’s lyric (abbreviated here), “There is a crack... in everything. That's how the light gets in. I wish for you to find your light.
been going through the same with all the grief and anger in the world. i find tears are very healing myself, i hope you get to better days quickly, i need to laugh *points at wristwatch*
As a divorced grandmother who for several reasons has spent many of the holiday seasons alone, I get depression. My sisters and I were never close and now are so far apart in worldviews and circumstances that we have little or nothing to talk about. I have a few friends, but this time of year they have family commitments elsewhere.
The world has a dark soul right now. We live in a sea of plenty, but yet, plenty doesn't satisfy our yearnings. We are surrounded by suffering, inequities, and despair while some find life more than full.
You are an empath, as are many who read your musings. It's hard to be content when so many will never find comfort in this world.
Yoga may be good. Guided meditation via Tara Brach online helps me. I don't think the non-human forces from another dimension plan to carry me away from here. I have grandchildren. They are reason enough to forge ahead. ❤️
I feel the same lately. Doing my best to push through it. I find writing helps, hanging out with my kid helps. I realize that you don't know my kid, but I could send him to you.
Your kid sounds pretty good. Yeah, send him over.
It’s McCulloch, not McCullough.
"Devil Town" by Daniel Johnston
Thank you Michael for broaching the topic of mental illness with compassion and comedy. I was medically retired from the Coast Guard in 1987 diagnosed with bipolar type 2, at the time, this seemed like a death sentence or curse at best. You writing lifted my spirits this morning in cold Colorado as snowflakes fall. I hope you are aware of the Depressive Bipolar Support Alliance, DBSA.
Through there support groups, I have met many interesting people and come to believe that "normal" might be brutally boring for me.
While in the Coast Guard, I attended a navigational training in the financial district of New York City. Sitting in Battery Park while extremely depressed, I began to garner hope admiring a number 2 pencil. As a teacher following the Coast Guard, I was bombarded with new technology and standardized testing, also extremely depressing. Yet, the number 2 pencil helped me find hope for some unknown reason. I guess at sixty-two the inevitability of aging is unavoidable, and it's comfort to know the number 2 pencil is still hanging in there with me.
As far as lyrics, I am part of a jam session with musicians of all ages and was introduced to the song "Devil Town" all about vampires. I hope you know or learn of the song and enjoy.
Many blessings, keep writing, and enjoy stuffing your face on Thanksgivings. As far as the photos you shared, I don't know the all the other people you mention. Just a lucky guess, I'm guessing you look like you which is fine.