A terrible thing happened this week. It has inspired this blog entry.
For
the last 4 weeks or so, I have been trying to pick myself up off of the
ground. I had become so overwhelmed that I couldn't take it anymore; I
turned inside myself and started shutting people out. I've been there
before, and much farther. This time, I realized what was going on, what
I was doing, and sought help. I talked to my healthcare provider, and
went back on anti-depressants. I hate them.
The
meds aren't bad; it's that I had to start taking them again. I had
gone for over a year without them. I don't like that I have to depend
on medicine just to get out of bed, (there are times when, if it weren't
for those meds, I wouldn't). But, to be honest, I should have started
taking them long before, and I'm sure I'm going to have to have them
adjusted, because I'm not quite to par, yet.
I'm
sure by now, you have figured out what it is that has inspired me to
write on such a sobering topic. Robin Williams' death has had a major
impact on me. I feel his pain; I know his pain. Regardless of the
source, the heartache that one feels EVERDAY because of depression is
the same for every person who lives with it.
There
are some who wonder what someone famous could be depressed about. I
say do not judge a man until you have walked a mile in his shoes. I
would bet that you would want your shoes back before you were a quarter
of the way through.
I have seen some comments
about going to hell for committing suicide. I ask the people making
those comments: Do you know what hell even is? Hell is being alone,
empty, a shell of yourself. Hell is putting a smile on your face, or
making someone laugh, while you're dying inside. It's pushing through a
day, pretending that nothing is wrong. It's crying until you can't cry
anymore. Hell kicks the shit out of you when you're down, and then
kicks you again when you're trying to get back up. Hell is burying your
child, trying to hide an abuse, keeping your private life private;
everyone has their own special version. Hell is on Earth. I am still
living in my hell. It's getting better; the days are a little brighter,
and I'm learning to kick back. I think Robin Williams just got so
tired of being kicked. I understand.
His death
has opened the country's eyes to a dark, ugly illness. It is so very
sad that it takes something like this, the loss of life, to make people
see. But, now that they do, it's time to stop being so quiet. Ignoring
depression won't make it go away, and I'm tired of feeling alone.
I
dedicate this post to Robin Williams, and to all those who have
suffered with depression and grown to tired to fight anymore. I'm here
for you; I'll keep fighting.
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