all i knew is that i was crying....alot...for no apparent reason.
i was exhausted but i couldnt sleep. i couldnt eat. i was losing interest in everything. i was moody and couldnt think clearly and tried to find any reason to explain away the feelings i was experiencing. loud noises sent me through the roof and crowds made me want to scream.i didnt want to kill myself, but i wasnt going to be disappointed if the moon happened to fall out of the sky and land directly on my head. i felt like i wanted to crawl out of my skin. but mostly, it was the heaviness ~ as if someone had dropped one of those x-ray blankets the size of a house upon my chest.

continuing to pretend i was the happy, outgoing, wild chick, i was known for, took more energy than i could have ever imagined, and often after a social event i would crash for days.

i didnt want anyone to know,
i was depressed.

i felt like a loser. a failure. i felt like my body and my mind had betrayed me. i
felt like all the personal growth and work i had done over the decades was for shit. meditate my way out of this? yeah right. imgaine having a migrane and me telling you to just think postive and everything will be dreamy.

for me one of the most frustrating things was the inabilty to do the smallest of tasks. it was as if i was under a spell that made me feel like day to day living was equal to walking through a muddy swamp in a pair of moon boots.
the worst was when people who had never experienced depression would assume i was just being lazy, or not ambitious.
"just get up and do it. whats so hard about that? what is the matter with you?!"
this would only send me into further isolation and shame. (if i had the energy i would have smacked those folks upside the head. )

the decision to go on meds wasnt difficult. i was so desperate to feel better i would have done anything. its not that i enjoy this pill thing, ive gained weight.,
i am cloudy, i am more numb. but believe me, numb is a beautiful thing compared to walking in hell. i am anxious to get off the medication and know the time is approaching, but for a time they saved my life. they are not for everyone, but for me they helped.

i am writing now because so many people i know are struggling with it.
shame is so intertwined, like if you are depressed, you somehow must be lacking in inner strength. im here to tell you thats a bunch of crap. it takes tremendous strength to continue on in this world with the weight of depression. but its important to get help. and there are many different paths. i have to say the very most helpful thing was being able to talk with others who have been in it. it helped me to feel not so crazy, and not so alone. isolating yourself in the midst of it is dangerous. so ask. ask for help.

the gift of depression (if there must be one) is that when a normal day comes upon you, its like christmas. and when you have a good nights sleep its like a miracle. and when you somehow are able to get things done you feel so very proud. there is also a beautiful sensitivity and compassion that enters your heart for others... after you have been dragged through the mud, you dont have much room for judgement or interest in the petty things of life.

i am afraid to say that i am feeling better, because i still feel like depression is only a step behind me waiting to drag me back into the pit. but i have had a really great couple of weeks. and this is huge. and i am a world away from where i was months ago. so something is good is happening.

if you are in it today,
i just want you to know i understand.
i know how hard it is.
and i hope you can care enough about yourself to get what assistance you need. and i promise you, it doesnt have to last forever, and it can shift even though now it feels eternal.

i wish you,
i wish all of us,
a better understanding and sensitivity
towards this
battle.