Depression from the Inside

An analysis of the emotional turmoil of a depressive/anxiety attack.

Survivors of abuse and other kinds of trauma often find themselves suffering from another kind of difficulty - the misinformation and scorn of those who just can't imagine being tossed around by their emotions like a rag doll. The emotionally stable should definitely be thankful, but shouldn't feel superior. Mood disorders of varying degrees can strike later in life and can be triggered by unforeseen personal calamity. I have seen a woman who resented her mother's lifelong battle with major depression have a nervous breakdown herself - yet still deny the reality of depression as a medical condition. I suppose the issue is still debatable to some, but here is a look into what I feel and experience when I suffer what I call "an attack."

 

Attack is my word of choice for what happens, for that is what it feels like, and how my brain reacts to it. Adrenaline surges and fight-or-flight impulses are part of it. But without a visible source of danger, logic goes haywire.

 

I often wake with a feeling of dread. I don't know what triggers it, if anything. I do know that it is a chemical imbalance in my brain that is completely controlled when I am on Zoloft (which for the past two years I have not been). So this feeling of dread seems to have no logical source, and my mind begins to manufacture sources. I usually don't realize at first that this is what is happening. I lay in bed, completely overwhelmed by various anxieties and the list of duties that I must complete as soon as my feet touch the floor. If I am not due at work and my son doesn't have to go to school, I may not be able to move at all, and will stay put until someone else wakes and speaks to me. It sounds weak and self-indulgent, and I feel guilty even admitting it. But there is a sense of complete panic, almost terror.

 

The negativity eventually alerts me to what is happening (it took years for me to be able to step back when in this hurricane of fear and hopelessness). I then begin to analyze my feelings, which is pretty much useless because they aren't caused by an outside source, no matter how my logical brain tries to lament various fears, worries and wrongs to explain what is happening. I often try to use affirmations - lots of people swear by them - but they are useless against a really bad attack, because they feel fake. Inside, I know that joy, hope, love and the future are only pretty lies to keep the masses from suiciding - any other thought is rejected as "faking", and no amount of repeating them will make myself believe at that moment. This is the worst part, because I begin to question things like my friends and spouse. It is a horrible thing, when it seems that everyone is only pretending to have selfless feelings, and all proof seems to point to the contrary. Usually, when I am "MYSELF" I know this not to be true. I am a romantic with hope in humanity and beauty and selfless love. The despair is only a symptom of an acute nature. This is when I usually start having problems communicating, and considering suicide in a vague, hopeless sort of way. I know it is selfish and that is why I haven't carried through with the thoughts, but there is no describing the self-hate and absolute despair of this stage.

 

Usually, this takes place over the course of a day. Things that begin to lessen the impact are simple and yet very hard to seek out in that frame of mind. One is food. If I eat (which I usually cannot on an attack day due to nausea), the panic starts to dull. Caffeine helps, though I can't have much due to migraines that start as tension headaches. Laughter - it takes time to 'sink in' but if someone makes me even chuckle sarcastically, it is a start and will eventually start to put things back in order. Cuddles help - it's not a sympathy thing, though it seems like it, but hugs and kisses from my husband with no expectation of sex cannot help but reaffirm my faith in selfless love. Sex is no help, because the physical reactions seem to be happening to someone else and have no affect on negative thoughts, and it only adds to the exhaustion that is a signature of the deeper depression.

 

My son suffers when my emotions are in turmoil; it is the thing that causes me the most guilt. I try to avoid showing tension in front of him, but he is so sharp, so mature for his age, I know he can tell a good day from a bad. Fortunately, since we moved to this magical place, the bad days are much fewer. My husband tends to blame whatever job I have as a source of stress, but sometimes I have to admit that being forced to do something without too many complexities, serving others and being forced to think about concrete things around me, helps rather than damages my mood. Eventually I am myself again - looking back critically and humorously at the ridiculous things I thought and felt, grateful that it is all over - for the moment.

 

Now that I have confided the unpleasant truth about my darkest moments, well, judge for yourself. I am a peaceful, sunny, creative and affectionate person whose patterns of thought and emotional normality are at times compromised by something that to me seems alien, and I know it is caused by abuse suffered at a very young age. I don't dwell on that, it's over and doesn't matter now. But the fact is there, and I am doing my damnedest to heal forever. It is an uphill battle some days. But MOST of the time, I am much, much better.

 

Further information can be found online:

http://www.teach-through-love.com/emotional-child-abuse.html

http://web4health.info/en/answers/sex-abuse-effects.htm

Author's Note

I know there are varying ideas when it comes to mood disorders. Many people think that they are self-inflicted, or an inexcusable weakness. However, due to the debilitating nature of this affliction, I ask that you withhold opinions of this sort. They are nothing new to me, don't help anyone, and generally contribute to a negative state of mind I am fighting. Thank you.

Reviews

[Vartul]

I used to think that mood disorders are a farce until the day mine started. I have an idea how you must feel. Irrational and inexplicable and totally unlike who you are. Sharing helps. Next time you have one, just write it down and post it. I'll read it. Maybe we can slowly eradicate your negativity. :)

[Elaenor Aisling]

This is raw and honest and beautiful. You are brave for putting this out here, and i can definitely sympathize, being a sufferer of depression myself. My depression branched into an eating disorder which threw my emotions into a vicious cycle of hate and loathing. Fortunately i have mostly recovered, but I still have my moments. It makes it lightens the load a little when you share what your going through, as you have done here. I applaud you.

[Susanna F]

Thanks, John. I have many good role and happy role models. When this happens, there is no such thing as perspective. There is no control - that is the problem. However, when there is a crack in the wall, which eventually there is, I am able to start using reason to break down the rest of the illusions.

[Eagle Cruagh]

I hope you don`t misunderstand.
I recognize the problem, but just attempt
to model a different perspective.
Thanks,
---- John

[Eagle Cruagh]

I hope that I can help.
Perhaps, since I have never had
an unhappy day in my life, I may
set a pace for you. Just try to
keep up,,,,,,,,'
---- John