The Black Dog
That's what Winston Churchill called it.
Depression.
Clinical depression for 26 years. I've been off all depression meds for years. Because I've reached what psychiatrists call "maximum medical improvement". I was medically weaned off the meds, and some lifestyle changes have allowed me to remain stable (or at least, not get worse) without medication.
Here's how this goes: I'm the strongest, happiest and post productive person I know when the black dog goes into hiding. I have a big laugh. I support people, and I cheer them up. When the black dog decides he wants to collect his due again, and shows up with his teeth bared, I try to educate people about it, rather than cheer people up, because I am unable to be cheerful when the dog returns.
And the black dog has his own will, and he comes and goes as he pleases. I have no control over him.
I was fine yesterday, but the dog visited me overnight, in my sleep, and I woke up sobbing. I don't have to tell you why he returned. You know why. National events and the stress that come with them. The ever-present low-grade shit that is always there, and all of a sudden hits you cumulatively.
When you come out of the acute phase of major depression, you are a changed person. You are a better person. More empathetic. You have won a battle that almost killed you. That's how depression changed me.
Was I unkind back before I was diagnosed? Was I a prick to people? Was I mean? These thoughts stress the hell out of me, because I can't remember. That's what depression stole from me. I can't remember who I was INTERNALLY. I can't remember how I treated people.
I wouldn't like it if I wasn't a good dude before I got depressed, and I wish I remembered what I was like way back when. But I don't remember what my personality was like. Depression stole that past awareness from me.
But here's what I do to try to recall what my life was like before I was diagnosed.
I found an old performance evaluation from one of my jobs recently. This was pre-depression. One of the comments by the company president in that review was "makes people feel at ease, and wins people over with his tremendous sense of humor". And guess what? I don't remember being like that. But maybe I was, since someone said I was. This brings me peace.
I found an old Christmas card that I've kept over the years, that someone sent me pre-depression. The front it said "They say Christmas is for children and animals". Open up the card and it says "I'm sure we both fit in that category. Merry Christmas to the kindest and funniest person I know". I don't remember being kind and funny, but maybe I was, because someone said I was.
I used to work with a guy. He married a girl that I went to elementary school with. We were outside of the work entrance, having a smoke. We started talking. I asked him his wife's name. He told me, and I said I WENT TO GRADE SCHOOL with her!
She was poor, and she was horribly treated by pretty much everyone. She threw a rock at me once when I was walking home form school. The rock was meant for someone else standing near me. She missed. It hit me in the back of the head. Gave me a cut on my head. Kid stuff, childhood stuff. Stuff that happens when you are young.
This guy told me that her parents treated her like trash, they abused her, beat her, and threw away all of her personal items. She had nothing from her childhood. I told him I had some black and white pictures that I took with a camera of us square dancing in the school gym. I dug them out of storage, and gave the pics to this guy for his wife to keep.
The next day, he came to work and told me that his wife broke down in tears when she saw the pics. It was the only thing that she could hold in her hands from her childhood. He told his wife who I was. She said "I remember him, because he was the only person in the school who didn't pick on me". I don't remember being like that towards her, but I must have been like that, because she said I was.
I'm writing all of this for a reason. I'm trying to help someone. I've written this here before, we are all on this site because we are reaching out to people. We have an inherent need to reach out. So I'm reaching out to those who feel me here, feel what I am trying to convey.
I know that many of you are scared, depressed. Crying, feeling hopeless. I can tell. i can see it come through in the posts here. But remember this...
Depression robs you, it turns your mind against you. It steals your memories. it makes you feel like you don't know who you are, or who you were.
Remember this...you are good. Your brain is telling you that you are not good, but you are good. Don't let your brain lie to you...you are good. Don't beat yourself up...you look better through the eyes of other people than you look at yourself through your own eyes. I promise you that, because your brain is tricking you.
If you have just one person in your life that will stick with you through thick and thin, warts and all, a person who will check on you without you having to check on them first...hang onto that person. A person who will look you in the eye and ask how you are doing...and mean it...hang onto that person. They are rare, EXCEEDING RARE, and they are worth their fucking weight in gold to you.
And if you don't have a person like that in your life. Then YOU be that person to your own self. YOU be the person who can see your worth, because you are good.
You are good.
I hope this helps at least one person today.
I'm very concerned about what is happening in this country.
So are you. It's alright. It will be alright.
And if someone hurt you, realize it's them, and not you.
Because you are good.
I write things like this because I'm pretty much anonymous here, so I can write without guilt or fear. And after 26 years of depression, I know what helps me...and writing helps me. Writing makes the black dog go away. Until the next time.
So I hope someone feels this.
Never forget that you are good.
= new reply since forum marked as read
It's a step that might be the hardest, but we must. 
to shine a little light where some days, that light is hard to find. Thanks, Lucky. 
Dog with me, sometimes not. I wish you well my friend. Love, Deb.
We all process things differently.
I have to honest, I have a wide range of feelings from despair, being perplexed and quite angry with recent events. And then circulating back to thinking or believing there's some sort of hope out there in this looney mess.
Anyway, whoever is reading this, hang in there!
