About six months ago, I had my first depression that took me to the place where I believed it would never end. Fortunately, it did end, with the help of meds and maybe with the help of therapy (I’m still not convinced therapy does much).
So when the next one hit, and I was headed for that same place, my wife reminded me that I had survived the first one, and I remembered that it could end. That was very useful.
By the time the third one came, I could tell myself that it wasn’t forever. But then, the shrink also told me they would get shorter and less deep over time. They’re a little more variable than that, but on the whole, it is true.
The worst thing is the sense of powerlessness. I do everything I’m supposed to, and then, all of a sudden, BOOM! I never know how long they’ll go for or how deep they’ll be. Sometimes I start coming out, and get thrown back in. Everyone always asks whether there are events that trigger them, but it seems to me that mostly it has nothing to do with what’s going on in the world.
And then, I feel bad, because I know that eventually, life, itself, will pass. And I want to make the most of life, but when the depression comes, I can’t, which makes it doubly bad. Even when I’m feeling ok, there’s still this kind of constipated feeling. I really want to shuck off that predilection for depression, but somehow, strain as I might, I can’t get it to come out.