My dance with Depression
Fourteen years ago I was diagnosed with clinical depression, PTSD, and bipolar disorder. I spent four days in a psychiatric unit in a local hospital. I was prescribed Prozac, Effexor, Paxil, and a number of drugs to deal with the side effects of those drugs. I attended group meetings with other mentally imbalanced people.
I hear myself say those words now and I wonder how I morphed into the person I am today; content, unafraid and mostly stable. (I believe in a healthy instability so I refuse to be totally stable.)
Mental illness is much like a virus or a cancer. The longer you pay attention to it, the more it is repeated "I am depressed" or "I have PTSD" the more reinforcement is given to your subconscious mind to stimulate those chemicals that provide the reality of those diseases.
Being pessimistic can actually be the cause of depression in some people, not to mention that it causes stress which raises the cortisol levels in the body.
Higher levels of cortisol can then cause a host of health struggles within an individual including blood sugar imbalances and diabetes, weight gain and obesity, immune system supression, as well as, gastrointestinal, cardiovascular, and fertility problems. It has even been linked to chronic fatigue syndrome, dementia, and thyroid disorders. Most importantly, it can lead to depression.
Do you understand? Depression can lead to more depression. It simply keeps itself alive, like a parasite living off of a host. Once it gets in there, it can be very difficult to get rid of.
So where was I when I was on the road to being diagnosed with mental ineptitude?
I was focusing on the outside circumstances of my life, I was speaking poorly to myself about my worth, and I was obsessed with the feeling of having no control over the direction my life was headed.
I was ignorant to the magnificent power my mind truly had, and I allowed all the programs to run on auto-pilot, with all their bugs and ill-written binary codes. Programs that had manufactured a malfunctioning operating system. Some of which were not even consciously shaped by me, certainly not by the me as I know me to be now.
My operating system, much like those of every person on this planet, was created in large part by my ego. Let me tell you, the ego doesn't design smart apps.
The ego hears simple statements like, "Don't be silly" or "that's a stupid question" or even "what is WRONG with you? Why must you misbehave?" and it sends them to the subconscious mind to be stored as proof that we are silly, stupid, wrong, and misbehaved. It can take the most well intentioned statement and mold it into a warning to us that if we do that, say that, or be that we will be rejected as a valuable being.
We say things to each other all of the time which have deep an lasting results to a mind that doesn't filter them. Most of us don't consciously filter much of anything.
So I was playing subconscious, ego-planted recordings of "You aren't lovable unless..." or "You've never had a good relationship what makes you think it has changed, are you that stupid?" and an old favorite since being sexually meddled with as a child; "All you are good for is sex."
Well, who wouldn't become taken hostage by a mental cancer with that attitude? I was dabbling with disaster with those negative self bashings, and I found it.
Things began to improve for me when I met Facundo online just a few years after being diagnosed with some things that aren't given much hope for healing.
This man was ridiculously crazy. I may have had an infected mind, but at least it was familiar! This guy was happy! Who the heck is happy? What, please tell me, is there to be so bat crap blissful about?
It intrigued me. He was unusual and rather refreshing. He made me want to be around him. He talked to me as if he cared that I saw my own value.
To be honest, I didn't understand why he cared. That was more of the ego's voice prompting me to believe that it had to be a trick, that I wasn't truly relevant or admired by anyone.
He would joke to me that I should sing "I feel pretty" or that he wanted me to go look in the mirror and focus on what I loved about myself.
There was NO WAY I was doing that crazy stuff! What did he take me for? Some gullible, daft, numbskull who needed Stuart Smalley affirmations. Psh, I was above that nonsense.
About six months into talking with him through a messenger almost daily, he began to change.
I noticed he wasn't his ordinary happily lunatic self. I wondered if it was my fault, (more negative self beatings) afterall, it isn't as if it could be easy to keep a joyful attitude when a person hangs out with Debbie Downer day in and day out.
He assured me many times that it wasn't me. The years went by and I wanted so much for that giddy idiot to re-emerge that I began using his tactics on him. I wasn't getting through. I wasn't even provoking any amusement that I could see.
My life coach had become unavailable and no longer capable of taking my hand and leading me out of the dark cloud I lived in. I knew I had to do it myself.
During this time I became more open to positive thinking. I started a habit of talking outloud to myself when I was alone.
Instead of the normal anti-Valerie talk from those days before, I was telling myself uplifting and inspiring things like "You are beautiful", "You can do anything you set your mind to", "Everything always works out for the best and you KNOW that!".
I let myself listen to music that called attention to cheerfulness, rather than the old 'my own worst enemy' sort of tunes I used to plug into.
I made things happen over the years that I would never have thought possible before, such as moving into my own home, holding a job that I was happy with, traveling to his country by myself, saving money and finally making independent choices for my life. Until then I had lived in a co-dependent relationship and had no hope that I would ever be strong enough to take on my own life.
Knowing Facundo changed me, improved me- and I will be forever grateful for that.
He eventually came out of his own mental virus, but that is his story to tell you.
What I want to tell you is that mental illness isn't chronic, unless you want it to be. It isn't fatal, unless you choose it to be. It can be overcome if a person can break away from their addiction to it, because depression IS addictive. Let's call a spade a spade, shall we? It's proper to refer to mental illness as having an infected mind.
Am I saying that medical care, psychotherapy, medication are useless and to be avoided? Not at all. Anti-biotics can kill infections just as medical care can cure or improve the decline of mental maladies.
In my case I was looking at Prozac assistance on a long term plan. I kept clinging to the idea that I needed it. Eventually I reached a harmony wherein medication wasn't required anymore.
I don't advocate the choice to stop following doctor's orders. What I do suggest is that those choosing to suffer with mental illness because taking a pill to mask the symptoms is easier than positive thought therapy, seriously consider the latter alternative.
Talk to your doctor or health care professional and tell them you would like to direct your own treatment by way of positive thought therapy and ask that they advise and monitor your progress.
If your doctor doesn't support the desire, find a doctor who can. In some instances, with certain mental illnesses it may be unsafe to attempt this without medication, so use discernment when deciding what's best. If the doctor insists the medication is imperative, then follow that advice. Your doctor knows best.
Once someone makes a decision that they want to be in control of their moods, and they work toward that with faith and great expectation; depression, PTSD, and even Bipolar disorder can be purged from their life.
It worked for me and it could work for others who are open to becoming independently healthy and balanced in body, mind and soul.
