So heres the thing about my depression. Let me know if its the same for you. I'm pretty level...numb if you will for the most part...but when something makes me sad...holy hell I'm sad. Really fucking sad. Here's the other thing...I don't want to die in my depression. I'm not so depressed that I want to end it all, I feel like I'm depressed in a different way. I just want to be happy. I keep thinking about all of the things that could/would make me happy and they all just seem so damn far away and impossible. I want to live, I just want to be happy while I'm living.

Every time I think I'm doing ok, its like something comes along and smacks me in the face. I've basically given up on my GI. I went to my rheumatologist to try to get a new game plan. He gave me one last ditch effort option before surgery. Methotrexate. An injection. Fuck.


Now I know I'm not going to get any sympathy from this crowd on injections. I've done them. I did betaseron for over a year and it sucked ass so I stopped.I have been considering Copaxone lately, but jesus, I dont want to have two injectable medications. I feel like I was mentally prepared to handle Copaxone...but not this other one. I just keep remembering all the anxiety I had before plunging the needle into one of my appendages. I could sit there easily for an hour before even moving. Just staring at the needle wishing I had the balls to just get it over with. This is something I have NO desire to revisit. Also this medication is NOT approved for colitis. My GI wouldn't even try it...

There is a giant part of me that hopes these meds fail. That way I can just get my diseased organs removed and forget about all of this. Forget my embarrassment, my pain, my medications, and my permanent attachment to bathrooms. But that's totally screwed up right? Its screwed up that I'm more willing to go under 2-3 surgeries than spend a few months on an injectable medication that might help.

I hate being a cliche. I hate being a statistic. I hate being the epitome of depression right now.

Although this does mean...I get to join the Monday night shot club with Dana and Damon. Too bad my name doesn't begin with a "D".

I've been sad lately. So sad that I can't even think of a $5 word to replace "sad". I'm talking sad. Like..sad sad. So sad, that I just keep thinking about how sad I am. My brain is running something like this...

sad.
sad.
sad.
sad.
sad.

You get the point. I'm sad, ok.

So that whole positivity thing I was feeling out...clearly...not working so much. I've had 2 therapy sessions so far, and while I think shes rad and its going well...I'm skeptical. I'll keep you posted on it. But I've noticed MAYJA mood changes and attitude changes in myself lately and it all culminated last week when I spent 2 days being a total basket case and balling my eyes out all day. Perhaps I'm a bit depressed. I was really doing well with all of this for a long time and I'm not sure when it all changed but it literally went from Ok I'm fine, to holy shit I feel like I'm the saddest person alive.

So heres where we talk about anti-depressants. A common thread among MSers, and others that suffer from chronic illnesses. I've never taken them before, I've never even really considered it. I like to try to control my medications, and take as few as possible. But I went to my latest GI appoint for my super awesome colitis, and really it wasn't great news. I have yet to have an appointment in that office without crying. They must think I'm a total flake. Being in there is the most hopeless feeling place I've ever been (this is a lie). Anyway, the 6MP is not so much working, so now I have to figure out where to go from here with in relation to my MS and not flaring that with other medications...blah blah blah I have to go to a special appointment at the Cleveland Clinic and drive a few hours to get there. So while I'm there, I mention to them about my depression and basically they mention the Anti-Ds and asked if I would take them. I said yes.

After those 2 days I need something because I can't function in life like that. I'm on the generic of Zoloft, whatever that is called. I don't know if Anti-depressants are supposed to work right away or if they take time to adjust things but I'm paying seriously close attention to myself these days. Probably too close. Every time I feel even a smidge above sad, I'm like "oh they must be working" even though I've only been taking them since Friday. I've noticed that I think they are already messing with my sleep...which is already screwed up, but I've learned to deal with that.

I don't know. There is part of me that's really bummed because I thought I was handling all of this, the new diagnosis, the hospitals, the medications all so well. So strong. So positive. Hu-RAH. There is a teeny tiny part of me that feels like I've failed a bit, or that I'm super typical because I have now followed the route that so many others have. Bad news = depressed = anti-depressants = lame-o. I had a friend tell me to just take them until we get this whole medication thing figured out...which I think is a good plan. I'm trying really hard not to sink into myself, but its hard. All I want to do is sit on my couch under a blanket and watch DVRed episodes of Gossip Girl and Greys Anatomy (don't judge me). But I know that wont help. So I keep trying to go out, stay occupied even though I don't want to go anywhere or see anyone. I really don't want to see people. Ugh I'm so tired of seeing people. I'm so tired of talking about my health, and feel embarrassed for how I look and how different it is. I'm tired of the pity looks, and wondering what people say when they get home. Perhaps I'm vain for thinking people talk about me when they get home, but if I saw me, I for sure would be talking about me. I've been in hiding now for a while, and this new depression thing just makes me want to hide more.

Yesterday I also got my first ever handicapped placard. Which depressed me. I'm officially 25 (I had a birthday, which also depressed me), and I have handicapped parking. Its a perk for sure, for long walks, but damn it, I shouldn't need it. Things are sucky. I really hope that stuff turns around here soon.  

Therapy session number one went well, although I wouldn't say I was bowled over by the awesomeness of my therapist. Really though, I shouldn't be too harsh as it was just appointment one after all. I had an awesome case of the cog fog, which didn't really help in terms of trying to express myself. I think we made some decent headway and although she did bring up anti-depressants, I let her know that my goal before trying something like that would be to talk through things and see if I couldn't figure out some of this head shit on my own. We talked a bit about my "future" issues and I was every so slightly put off by her reaction to the whole "kids" discussion. While I'm not sure that kids are in the cards for me, since one day it sounds like an awesome idea, and the next day I am thoroughly disgusted with the thought of human beings reproducing in the first place, I'm not sure I felt like she really "got" where I was coming from. In expressing my concern or "fear" over the whole deal, she let me know that these are concerns that anyone would feel. Well yes, parenting is huge. It's a big thing for everyone. However we're talking about me here, and I'm talking about a hypothetical fear about having a kid and my level of disability getting to a point where I'd be a super lame parent. Ah, lame...haaha funny. But whatever, I'm ridiculously oversensitive and over analytical a decent majority of the time. There we go, that's a good topic to bring up at my next session right?
 
One of the funny things we discussed were various reactions I may have had in telling people I have MS and some of the regret I feel in telling certain people. I'm sure we all have a few of these in our lives. So let me just share with you the one person that I wish to God I would have never told...the milk man, yes, the milk man. He delivers to my work, and I've known the dude for seven years now. He's super nice, Mr. Chatty for sure, which doesn't always fly when I'm trying to get milk put away and do fifty other things at once. Anyhow, he noticed last year that I was out of work for about a week, which was all thanks to my nightmare of an LP and subsequent blood patch. So I get come back to work he was curious where I'd been, so I told him what was going on. Wrong turn. Total wrong turn. Of course his neighbor has MS and she's like, the picture of health. Awesome, good for her. And here come the questions...gotta love the questions. So how do they know it's really MS? How's your MS this week? Have you heard that story about that lady with MS who was bed ridden and then decided to give a gift a day for 29 days and is totally healthy now? Cause you know, so much of it is a "mind" thing? Ah yes, and I've gotten the newspaper clippings about the mother battling MS who's this total fighter and like, supporting her entire family because her husband is dying of a brain tumor or something. While I understand this may be coming from a really good (mind you unbelievably ignorant and annoying) place, I am just about to tell him to shut the fuck up. I am at work, I am feeling great, and I don't feel like talking about M-fucking-S right now. Period. Don't you know someone with cancer that you can go bug? Seriously, that shit is way more interesting. So I have decided that the next time Mr. Chatty shows up to deliver some milk, and asks me how the old MS is doing this week, I'm going to inform him that my awesomely interesting disease is no longer going to be a conversation piece. The challenge will be doing it in a fashion that doesn't make seem like a moody, crazy bitch.

Today I got asked again if I was disabled....again. How the crap do I answer that. So I asked if that meant legally, like on social security. The woman said not necessarily, but it had to be documented by a doctor....So I said yes. Yes, I am disabled. I figured it might not be every damn day, but there are definitely some days that I am disabled and damn it my doctor better back me up on that shit.

Lately, I've been having a lot of mental/emotional ups and downs. The last 2 days have been great. I feel better. I have more energy. I still look like shit, but I'm really trying to let it bother me less. I've also decided to start therapy...again, starting tonight. I've switched over and I'd say I'm like 80% Gluten Free now and I don't know if that has made a difference or if my medications are really starting to work now or maybe a combo of both...but the colitis department is slowly getting better. I actually slept through the night last night. OH MAN! I've also put myself on a diet until Thanksgiving. I love to eat and I refuse to deny myself Thanksgiving, but until then its Boost shakes and healthy dinners. Honestly, I love Boost shakes, they taste awesome, they are Gluten Free, and I really do think they give me more energy. They should give them to me for free because I talk so awesomely about them.

Anyway. I was really in one helluva rut there for a while and I'm really trying to make some positive changes. I didn't really feel depressed but I noticed I was having more and more breakdowns, so I just decided to do whatever I can to pull myself out. That means therapy, a haircut, Boost shakes and working out again. Working out is the tough one. I still can't really do a whole lot, can't work hard, can't work very long. But damn it, I'm tired of feeling so awful ALL the time. Its time to be proactive.

I'm tired of waiting around until the doctor says that I can get off these medications. I keep thinking once I'm off then, I'll feel better, look better and so on but the reality is it wouldn't kill me to try to do all of that now. I may have to put in more effort to do it, but I can't let myself get lost in a depression. I dont have the time, money, or energy to pull myself out of that. So heres to taking life by the proverbial balls.

So I wrote awhile back about my little bout with the big "D" (a term which allows me to skate around the word depression). Well I should just shout out it out here, since so many of us deal with this bullshit. DEPRESSION!!! Anyhow I was really moved by the comments which you all left, I wanted to thank you for not only sharing things which may have been personal to you, but also some pretty darn good advice. It seems like opinions on treatment options or perhaps consciously not treating depression, seem to really run the gamut with us all. I think I can relate to each and every one of you. Whether or not we're all in the same place in terms of accepting it or treating it, we can all relate to one another here. 

It honestly sucks to have to admit to yourself that you are indeed depressed. Obviously we all have days where we get the blues, or when this whole disease thing is just totally deflating. We know what it means to question our existence, our worth, and our future capabilities. These aren't questions that should be foreign to anyone, however I think with the advent of MS or whatever health issue may come your way, we begin to ponder these things with a little more depth, and perhaps a little more often. It can feel like a daunting task at times, when you get yourself caught up in a vicious cycle with these questions. I think for me it's definitely more healthy to keep them on the back burner and focus more on the here and now. However, I am not always so perfect. With the addition of a new symptom or a week of feeling like total crap, it seems like the whole cycle of self examination and questioning begins again. After not being able to snap out of it, I decided to finally admit to myself, and apparently all of you who read this site, that I indeed was depressed. Thankfully I am feeling much better, although I know that depression is something that can sneak back in at any time. 

So here's what I did, while in the comfort of my pajamas and probably a large bowl of chocolate somewhere nearby. I finally made the effort to try and get in touch with a psychologist to begin some therapy. This time I actually found someone who accepts my insurance, and I made sure to find someone who has experience treating those with chronic illness. Although I won't have my first appointment for another few weeks, I think just finally making the effort to find a doctor for this aspect of my disease was important. Taking this step has definitely helped me move out of the major funk, and step back into the light as much as possible. I tried getting therapy last year to deal with the emotional aspect of being diagnosed, but found out the therapist I was seeing didn't accept my insurance. I just gave up after that, so giving it a go again and actually having coverage will be phenomenal I think. 

It's amazing stepping outside of myself in the here and now and thinking back to how low I was feeling a few weeks ago. This just reinforces more for me how down I was, because I honestly cannot imagine feeling some of the negative things I was feeling just a short time ago. It is so hard feeling unpredictable with your moods, and it becomes so hard to try and communicate in any sort of meaningful way with the people around you. I know that one of you brought up the struggle of really being able to admit to yourself that you are down or that your moods are maybe um...here and there so to speak. It is so hard to hear from others that you don't seem like yourself, or to have people suggest you get treatment for depression. It can definitely feel almost like admitting that you aren't the same person you are before your diagnosis, which is a concern that was expressed in a comment on the prior post. While I don't believe the majority of us have lost the complete sense of ourselves, I would by lying if I said that I do feel like I've lost a piece of myself. Even if that small piece was just one more day of not knowing I would live the rest of my life with a chronic illness. 

Moving past the issue of admitting to ourselves that we need some sort of help, and accepting that maybe we're not okay trying to figure it all out on our own, there was some talk about anti-depressants along with therapy. In terms of anti-D's I am definitely all for the help that they have offered any of you guys, I think that if it's something that's working, then that is amazingly good and you should stick with it. I agree that we definitely need to let go of the shame or stigmas that we may have attached to these medications. For fucks sake, if something is truly benefiting you, then this is what's important. On that same line of thought however, I am a big proponent of therapy before meds, since this isn't the way things were handled when I was a "depressed teen." I think attempting to work through the root of the issue is important, and perhaps if the depression is more of a "biochemical" factor than medications are definitely necessary. I know I'm keeping my options open, and I'm looking forward to talking the shit out of my therapist!!

So here I am  2:46am...awake as usual. Normally I don't get suckered into infomercials...don't get me wrong, I like to watch them, but I never call or order or anything like that. However tonight, I got suckered in by one. Luminess Air. Its an at home airbrush makeup system. Now this sounds like the ultimate cat lady purchase. However, I assure you it looked really effing cool. So I came here to the handy dandy Mac Book Pro and did some research on the cost and all that jazz and found out this little zinger costs about $180 bucks. Which to be totally honest, if it was as cool as they said it was...I would be all about paying for it.  And I sat here for about 5 seconds and thought...I need this. I need to feel pretty again.

And then it hit me.

In between figuring out how I could swing a totally random and unnecessary $180 impulse buy...and finding my credit card...I realized something.  My god...I feel this bad about myself right now. I have expressed how awful I feel about how I look lately and its has all culminated to this moment for me. Fucking infomercials with a promise of pretty. I feel so far out of my own skin these days. I feel so unlike myself, so like another fucking person trapped in this body that is so not mine...that I want to pay $180 to feel pretty again.  Now I don't know if this is just a staple of being a woman and feeling pressure to always be beautiful, or if this is really all about my health and how it makes me ugly. But I feel so...just..eh. I'm mad at myself for getting this down about how I look. I'm mad that I have to look this way. I'm mad that I'm getting suckered into infomercials with promises to make me feel good. I'm fucking mad that its gotten this bad. I'm mad at the drugs. I'm mad at the doctors. Damn it...I'm so fucking mad about the way things are right now.

I'm mad that I resort to my blog and just bitch to you all because I feel like so many people don't get how deeply rooted this shit is for me. No one understands what its like to look in the mirror and not see your own face. To not recognize yourself. To know that everyone who knows you, is thinking about how different you look all the time. To know that people are talking about you. To have a co-worker say to your face "Hey, do you know you're gaining weight?". Yes. Thank you. I am full aware.

I want my identity back. I want my face back. I want my life before all of this. I want sleep and confidence and to not worry about whether or not I'm going to end up in the hospital again. I don't want to have to worry about how soon I should make an appointment at the wig shop because my hair is still falling out. Or if I should just go balls to the wall and shave my head...and then if I shave my head will my boyfriend still like me. I want to be 24 years old and be normal. I want to not be sitting at my computer at 2:55am...crying about how shitty things are. I want to not be such a damn baby about things and keep on truckin' because you don't choose the hand you're dealt. You're just dealt.

If you recall, Dr. Bill gave me some homework after my healing session with him. He told me to take some time for myself, create space, and think about the conflicts in my life. So last night I did just that. And I'm really conflicted over how it went. I've had these furniture pieces that I've been wanting to paint/refinish for a while and I really enjoy "crafting" if you will, so I decided to cancel dinner with a friend last night, sit in my garage and work on my projects. Do something that makes me happy. Dr. Bill had told me to disconnect and turn off my phone but shockingly enough I'm not all that popular so I decided to leave it on, besides people FLIP when you turn your phone off. I also usually work with the radio on and I decided this time to sit alone with my thoughts in the silence. Within the first 15 minutes I received 3 text messages from people who never text me and a phone call....

So I decided to turn the phone off. A small wave of ...I don't know, panic..flushed over me. WHAT IF SOMEONE CALLS AND ITS IMPORTANT? Clearly, I have a problem disconnecting. A problem creating space. So I left it off while I was outside and I painted and I sanded and I thought about stuff. And I don't really feel like I sorted anything out, which is totally fine. But I did leave my garage mad. I was pissed off. Sure, I thought about some stuff that upsets me, but for the most part I wasn't dwelling on bad things, but I was in a foul mood. WTF? This is supposed to be a calming exercise. It was supposed to help me sort shit out and I ended up...mad? How does one screw this up?!