I just got tagged on Facebook to "list 3 things you are grateful for." Have you been tagged yet? Well, I'm not participating so I won't tag you (I ignored the ice bucket challenge when it finally hit me toward the end…not because I'm anti-cures, but because I'm anti-fad and anti-freezing water).
I don't mean to be rude, but whilst everyone else is listing their families and jobs and God and the mushy things that they are grateful for, all I could think when I got tagged was "the things I am grateful for these days cannot be posted on Facebook."
Because if I posted them, I would appear needy and attention-seeking at best. Or at worst, pleading for help. And shit, that's not what Facebook is about.
(Side note: does anyone else mourn the early days of Facebook when it was just us GenXers having fun, posting photos and being silly? Before the Millennials and Baby Boomers got on and forced us to start watching what we posted? Yeah, maybe it's just me)
In no particular order, here are my non-Facebook-worthy "3 Things I Am Grateful For:"
1. I am grateful that my Blanket of Depression is more of a crocheted blanket than a fleece blanket. A crocheted blanket has air pockets, some bigger than others.
See, people who don't have depression (or think that they do) believe that depression is full of The Sadness, The Crying and The Curling Up In The Fetal Position. Now, I can't vouch for everyone who has clinical depression but I know mine isn't that way. I cry maybe 4 times a year. Wanna know why only 4 times? Because crying jags require too much energy. And being honest, most of the time I have just enough energy to get through each day.
Nope, my depression is like a constant blanket on me. I like the blanket analogy better than "a black cloud" because I can always feel it there; it is a true weight that exists. It is ALWAYS there. Always. And I can move under this blanket and continue to plod forward in life under the blanket. Aand sometimes I hit parts where the blanket is threadbare and lighter, but it's always there. It's a weight; when that Cymbalta commercial first came out – "where does depression hurt? – holy crappola, I went "YES!"
But at least mine isn't smothering. I can breathe under this blanket because crocheted blankets have little gaps all over. And there are days when I stumble under a larger gap and I can breathe so much deeper. Those are the Happy Days, the days when things are great. Make no mistake; the blanket is still there. But those big gaps? Are freaking wonderful.
Then there are the days where the air holes are small and it's all I can do to not collapse under the weight of the blanket.
There's no real knowing where the air holes are…I've learned to just appreciate the larger ones when they show up.
2.I am grateful that the medication I take gives me perspective (see number 3) but mostly keeps me away from the Edge of The Crazy.
Have you ever watched those Datelines or whatever death/murder show is on the ID channel and thought "How does somebody get to that point that they can just kill/rape/plot death/abandon family?" Have you thought that ever? Congratulations…you've never seen the Edge of The Crazy!
Now, I'm not saying I've actually had those awful thoughts – the worst thought I ever had, after my 2nd child and The Depression was heightened by The Postpartum Fun, I did have a moment where I considered turning the other way on the highway and NOT picking up my kiddo and just driving away from it all. I didn't do it. I can honestly hold up my hand and say I've only seen the Edge of Crazy from afar…I've never actually been on the precipice looking down at Crazy.
But when I watch those awful shows, I know how it happens. I know it in the sense that when MY brain isn't functioning properly, there are thoughts I just cannot control and, following that line, actions that I have a difficult time controlling. Again, I've never reached a point nearing murder or abandonment, but knowing how my brain works (or doesn't work, I guess), I can understand certain things (not justifying…there's a world of difference between justification and explanation and I'm trying to EXPLAIN this). I can vouch for the fact that when certain connections don't get made in the brain, there's not much I can do about it. You probably don't believe that, but you probably don't have mental problems.
Do you know how bad it sucks to know that your brain will never be able to function without the help of meds? It sucks big time but still, I'm grateful that they keep me from even seeing the Edge of Crazy. Because I never want to see that again (and I stress again, I never even truly made it to the edge).
3.I am grateful that I can maintain a sense of perspective and sense of humor on human nature.
When a movie star with known mental issues commits suicide and all of a sudden, the world is abuzz with Facebook shares like "How To Watch For Potential Depression In Your Family" or "Let's Raise Awareness On Mental Disorders." And then it fades away like every other fad. I can at least acknowledge that most people have no idea what mental illness really is AND that most people are sheep (I'm a sheep too sometimes so I'm not being High and Mighty here) and let's face it, when The Suicide and The Mental Illness is popular, most people jump on the bandwagon.
Hearing people who say that they have experienced depression and that "oh I had to go on meds for a short while." I've learned to smile and not react. Or better, I've learned to just keep my mouth shut unless I know the person really gets it.
But it doesn't make me angry or upset any more. Because, thanks to the meds, I have the ability to see that unless you've been there, you don't get it. So when people blithely repost things about Hollywood mental issues, I ignore it. Because those of us with the issues know that "bringing awareness" to The Depression is only a quarter of the battle. Because seriously? If I tell you I'm full of The Depression (like, let's say Facebook), what are you going to do? Really. You can offer me your shoulder to lean on, you can give me advice, you can try to be "more in touch" with me. But what really would happen is you would get weirded out and handle me with kid gloves. And I don't want that.
Nor is there anything you can honestly do about it. Trust me, if I thought you could, I'd be on your doorstep right now.
Do you see why I can't post this on Facebook? If there ever was a truth reposted on Facebook, it would be the one about not judging a person because you never know what struggles they are really going through.
Share This Article
