Depression and Disgust

Shortly before Thanksgiving, I started showing signs of a depressive episode. This was unexpected because it was early. My last one was March and I generally run on a year cycle. This means for 11 or 12 months straight, I am me. The Pobble. I have good days and bad days like anybody else, am generally happy, and am more sane than not.

Then it hits. My chemicals get wonky and out of balance. For the next 4-8 weeks, I'm different. Really, really different. The good part is that between behavior mod and good meds, I can keep it at 4-8 weeks, depending on the severity of the episode. The sad part is that I have to be very careful with whom I share these 4-8 weeks.

See, it's tiring to support someone with Depression. It's a very long 4-8 weeks. I cry. A lot. And hard. I'm not upbeat or perky. I don't want to do much and often can't make myself. I'm a dreadfully annoying combination of isolationist and needy. Most people react with disgust.

As I was explaining to Graziella last night (who is handling it with incredible sensitivity and grace, for the record), part of it is the label it carries. At least in my opinion. I have posted on this in the past. When someone hears "schizophrenia" or "bi-polar" or "PTSD", they realize that something unusual and major is happening here. When someone hears "Depression" the same triggers don't get thrown. I mean, everybody gets depressed, right? Why don't you just dig deep and find a smile? Can't you find a happy thought and focus on that? Take a day or two and then snap out of it? Dear Goddess...if I only could.

We live in a society that denies pain. We're all supposed to soldier on. Martyrs are admired and whiners are judged. Raw emotions make us incredibly uncomfortable. And so, in my experience, most people do not react well to a situation where a person cannot simply suck it up.

We tend to disregard the importance of sitting in silence instead of trying to fix. We tend to be uncomfortable saying "This makes me uncomfortable." We would rather be disgusted by the person than deal with their ~ and our own ~ turmoil in the situation.

I am lucky enough to have friends and family who can indeed handle what happens to me during these long 4-8 weeks out of every 52 or so. At least, some of them can. And I understand why the rest can't, even as it hurts to have to hide this part of myself from them. See, disgust is understandable. Even as it hurts.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.