by Dandelion Doolittle

Created on: February 01, 2010

The room was semi-dark and my arms were strapped down.  Out of the corner of my eye I could see a Kelly green ribbon in my hair.  Where was I?  Was I in a hospital?  I was a bit confused.  As I turned my head, there sat my best friend.  She was smiling with some hesitation.  “How are you?" she asked.  After momentarily thinking, I uttered softly, “Next time I’ll do it right.”  I had made my first attempt at

suicide.  I was twenty-three years old.

I suffered from chronic depression.  Depression is a disease.  Millions of people are afflicted with it every year.  Before psychiatric treatment, I believed it was circumstantial.  My mother possessed some form of relief by choking me, slapping me until my nose bled, pulling my hair or hitting me over the head with broom handles.  Who wouldn’t be depressed?

People were always asking why I looked so sad. I became depressed for no apparent reason.  I can remember spending lunch hours sitting on a bench overlooking the river and crying.  Nothing specific had transpired to lower my spirits.  By then my circumstances had changed. I had moved from home into my own apartment.

Chronic depression can be somewhat debilitating.  There were days when it was difficult to get out of bed.  I would often drink in excess to “drown my sorrows.”  Isolation became a way of life, yet I would get drunk and call people.  Sustaining friendships became a challenge.  I started using illegal recreational drugs.  My appetite fluctuated and I would lose or gain excessive amounts of weight.

I failed at attempted suicide two more times.  Was I asking for help or just wanting attention?  For me, a breakthrough happened when I had a breakdown.  I was hospitalized for an entire month.  My psychiatrist was extremely helpful and we established a wonderful rapport.  After a month of intense therapy, I was able to better understand chronic depression.  Your upbringing and past are contributing factors, but not the cause.  A steppingstone to aid in your mood swings is prescribed medication.

Finding the right therapist is an important element when learning to cope with chronic depression.  Building a solid foundation with a qualified professional can heighten your relationships.  The right medication can be a Godsend.  It was suggested I had a chemical imbalance: something that cannot be infinitely determined.

Bouts of depression still overcome me, but not as frequently nor as severe.  My medicines have been adjusted from time to time.  Suicidal thoughts are no longer dominant.  Living seems more rationale.

I see a psychiatrist once a month for medication. I have been seeing the same psychologist twice a week, for the past six years.  And my friends, my true friends, understand my depressions.  No more drunken, late night phone calls.  Lastly, I guess my demeanor has changed, because I don’t get asked why I look so sad anymore.

Learn more about this author, Dandelion Doolittle.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.