An Abundance of Sad

You Are Not Alone

You Are Not Alone

One of my dearest, most beloved high school friends lost his father last week. A devastating loss exacerbated by the fact that my friend’s father — after a lifelong battle with depression — chose to take his own life. Left in his wake are shocked, grieving, devastated, angry family members and friends, trying to make sense of what doesn’t. A wife, kids, grandkids…

It is no secret that depression has long been one of my demons. For most of my adult life, I have fought depression and anxiety, kept it at bay with medication, exercise, and a partner who keeps me balanced with love and grace and wisdom. He knows just how much to let me hide, knows just when to pull me back into the land of the living, understands that what happens inside me is not a choice, but a diagnosed medical condition — a hormonal, brain chemistry-related imbalance that leaves me continually adjusting my diet, exercise, social, and work options to keep the teeter-totter as level as possible.

There are many moments I question my purpose on this earth, my contribution to the world, my worth, my reason for being. Often, I get lost in swirling “what ifs” that leave me paralyzed with fear and incapable of forward movement. I’m melancholic, easily brought to tears, overwhelmed by the injustices of the universe. Although I have no scientific basis for my belief, I think extra-feely humans probably have more issues with depression than others. Any moment, any situation, any experience can leave me wrung dry, begging for mercy, running for the safety and escape of my pillow and sleep.

I used to think everyone felt this way.

After I had my first baby and sat bawling inconsolably while friends and family came to gaze upon his chubby, smiling perfection, I attributed my state of being to hormones. Looking back, it’s easy to see I was in the throes of PPD, but at the moment, I thought it was the way every woman felt after gifting a new human being to the world.

Recently, I posed this question to my husband: “How often do you feel sad?” I was shocked by his response: “Very, very rarely.” I thought an abundance of sadness was a shared experience, a common response to a world that’s often too bright, too complex, too mean, too much.

I’ve had well-meaning friends ask, “Don’t you want to be free of medication?” Of course I do. And so, I’ve taken myself off — time and time again — with disastrous results. Perhaps I’m a slow learner, but I now understand that medication will always be part of my life. A biological imbalance is not a choice, it’s a fact. Depression does not equal weakness, and both caring and advocating for yourself is the epitome of strength.

Statistically, 1 in 10 Americans suffers from depression, and 80% of those who meet all the criteria for clinical depression receive no treatment. Those are sobering statistics, friends. Especially when this particular ailment can be treated effectively with medication, homeopathic remedies, psychotherapy, and support. Prolific sadness, hopelessness, anxiety, suicidal thoughts — these are not normal modes of existence. They are warning signs, and they must be heeded. We need to recognize them in ourselves, our kids, our friends, our family members. We were not meant to go it alone on this earth — be both the village you need and the one others need you to be.

I am one of the lucky ones. With much trial and error, I have learned how to manage my depression with a range of treatments. I have an incredible support system in my family, my friends, my loved ones. I’ve had kind, understanding physicians who have explained what’s happening in my brain, who have given me options for treatment, who have supported the path I’ve chosen. (I’m strengthening my trusses, H.) Like so many other diseases, depression is manageable, but it’s a conscious choice.

Don’t wait, friends. Your life is too important. Your contribution to this world, too precious. Make the call today — to your physician, a trusted advisor, a beloved friend.

You are not alone.

 

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About Katrina Anne Willis

Author, friend, lover, dreamer, drinker of red wine.
This entry was posted in Big Thinks and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

12 Responses to An Abundance of Sad

  1. Angela Solis says:

    Thank you, Katrina. This blog post means more than I can say. xo

  2. Sorry for your loss and thanks for drawing attention to this devastating issue.

  3. I am in the throes of PPD right now, and I will be coming back to this post.

    • kaelee says:

      hang in there Deborah. Brighter days are coming!

      • kaelee says:

        and hopefully your sig other doesn’t tell you that you just have to stop crying. ( Really? I hadn’t thought of trying that! 🙂

    • texasaggiemom says:

      Please seek professional help for PDD if it continues. I was unable to afford treatment for mine after my daughter was born in June. When I asked my OB-GYN for referrals, the least expensive option was $250/hour, but I wish I had found a way to pay for it. It was the following March before I experienced the first day I would have chosen to be alive instead of dead. No one should have to live that way. You AND your baby deserve an easier life than that! Hugs from Texas –

  4. kaelee says:

    not only is it hard for depressed people to understand how people can rarely feel sad, but it is hard for happy people to understand how/why depresssed people feel so sad.

  5. martleeww says:

    So sorry Katrina for the tragic loss. A dear friend who lost a son similarly sweetly said she understood that his was a terminal illness. This was many years after my own brother had taken his own life and was comforting to me. Thank you for your honesty about struggles with depression. I can relate 100 percent. I am in my late 50’s now and have found that taking time each day and night to thank God for all my blessings, from a to z literately, greatly helps me to be mindful of all I have to live for and to stay in the present, without regrets for the past or worries for the future. I enjoy your posts, thanks for taking the time.

  6. M says:

    Dear Katrina,
    I have recovered enormously from depression by eating organic, nonGMO food. I am no longer on medication after 30 years of SSRIs, which only poisoned my body and made me sicker. Ask yourself, are you really better on medication, or are you still depressed? I was still depressed after 30 years of anti-depressants.
    When I cut out the hormones, preservatives, chemical fertilizers, GMOs, and anti-depressants, and ate chemical-free food, my brain in time rebalanced and healed itself. I learned new ways of thinking, and I do not suffer from bipolar anymore. I am chemical-free and life is good.
    Please check into chemical-free living instead of making Big Pharma rich. Please read the truth of SSRI anti-depressants on http://www.ssristories.org/ and get your mental balance back. Chemical-free food is the key.
    Good luck on this journey of life.

  7. Patrick Ashmore says:

    I’m singing from the same song sheet.
    How wonderfully & elegantly well-spoken you are! Experience (of any kind!!) equals wisdom!!!
    – Patrick Ashmore

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