This post is incredibly difficult for me to write-I touched on it before but after all your amazing support I figured I would further elaborate. If you don’t like sad and serious blog posts, divert your attention elsewhere. If you ever have found yourself struggling with depression and overcoming severe life changes, then read on. I hope opening up about my experience will help you in any way. Caveat: I am leaving out some details as they are just too personal for me to discuss. If you want to discuss it further or have questions you can contact me via e-mail (kcriemer AT yahoo DOT com)
For months I thought I could ‘hide’ the depression or that it would magically disappear on its own… My thoughts were ‘well maybe if I exercise more the endorphins will make me HAPPY’. If I spend time doing things that make me happy I would be happy… only to realize that I don’t even know what makes me happy or ‘tick’ anymore. By having these thoughts rather than just accepting the truth I was more wrong than ever with thinking that I could fix it and only causing more harm.
By covering it up, not only was I lying to myself, but I was lying to all those close family and friends around me that love me and support me through the good, the bad, the happy & the sad. While deep down I knew and have known for months that I do indeed have depression, to possibly even a severe extent, I refused to grasp or accept it. I didn’t want to be the girl who needs medicine to be ‘happy’. I didn’t want to be the girl who is unstable—one week being so happy and the next being in complete misery.
Then this past weekend I had a moment of clarity. Unfortunately it took a night of darkness, sadness, and being alone to realize I HAD to get help. It wasn’t an option anymore. As mentioned before I will spare some of the details but the jist of it is I had that breaking point that I needed that lonely night.
I spent the weekend with my family back at home and got back to my apartment early evening on Sunday. I had a rough weekend to begin with and Tyler is vacationing with his family in St. Thomas—the guy who I can tell everything to and know that he will still love me the next day and be supportive wasn’t here. I didn’t know what to do. My friends are few and far between these days and I was too embarrassed to talk to my mom about how deep these issues truly resonate.
My parents know I have had depression since this past summer, but only Tyler knows how bad it really has been these past few months. With him being gone I didn’t want to ruin his vacation anymore than I already had by telling him how bad of a place I was in. So I turned to a bottle of hot apple pie (read: heavy on the everclear, heavy on the vodka, medium on the apple juice) and drank glass after glass after glass. Alone. On the living room floor. With an empty stomach. Listening to the saddest music possible. When I knew I had more than enough to drink I said ‘what’s one more?’. That happened numerous times. I tore my apartment apart. I cried for hours on end until I finally drank enough and passed out in bed.
I may have felt better for a little bit before the drinking got excessive that night but like all “remedies” I was doing myself-it was temporary. And now I was putting myself in danger too.Monday morning, hungover at work, I decided it was time. I couldn’t do this anymore.
Tyler has been urging (but not forcing) me to call to actually see a psychiatrist and a therapist to discuss my depression and body dysmorphia with someone qualified to help me. Making that phone call was quite honestly one of the hardest things in my life. As if I didn’t feel embarrassed before-now I felt weak for asking for HELP. Today I still sit here and don’t see how getting the help makes me a strong person. Tyler, my friends and family all remind me that I am being strong by getting help, I truly hope that I can see the strength in it. I can tell you that finally realizing and accepting the fact that depression is not something that will just go away and get the appropriate help has lifted a weight off of my shoulders.
This will not be forever. I WILL be happy again even if it is by taking the right medication indefinitely. I can’t bear the thought of putting my amazing relationship with Tyler in jeopardy because I refuse to get help, I don’t want to scare my friends and family anymore. I want to wake up every day and ENJOY this life that I am so privileged to have.
I may have a job I don’t fully enjoy…but I have a job.
I may not have the dream body I want…but I’m working hard towards my goals and am physically healthy.
I may not have a ton of friends…but the ones I do still have are the best people I could have in my life at a time like this.
I may not know what the future entails…but that means I have a lot of options and so much time to figure it out.
Until I see the doctor and therapists I am doing a lot of self-reflecting and journaling to record this process. Some days are good, some are bad and I want to get to the bottom of it. I will get to the bottom of it.
If you’ve made it this far-you really rock. I hope that this wasn’t too dreary for you but as I mentioned-I want to help anyone I can by sharing my experiences.
Happy Hump Day—half way to the weekend!