Showing Up

Showing Up

Hello snowflakes.

I’m so much better.

Oh so much better.

I’m me again. Maybe better. Brighter? Definitely.

It was like a reboot of sorts. Incredibly painful and sucky but I got through it, dammit.

I am badass. Hear me roar.

I feel beyond lucky to have such supportive friends and family. Where would I be without you?

Coinciding with my climb out of the hole of depression is my extreme inspiration from, seemingly everything:

• The endless sky.
• Music – specifically Lenka and Robyn, which have been pulsing from anything that would play music so loud that I could feel it in my skin, letting it seep into my pores and brighten my soul. It works. I swear.
• Art – nothing specific, in fact, most of it is nameless. Graffiti here and there, a well styled print ad, the guy at the bagel shop’s tattoos.
• Books! (exclamation mark intended and necessary) I read Visit from the Goon Squad and Just Kids in the span of 2 weeks and was blown away. I highly recommend both. The story in Goon Squad was creatively woven, I was in a constant state of awe of Jennifer Egan’s talent. Just Kids will stay with me for a good long while. It was intoxicating and ignited somewhat of a creative explosion in my brain. I see things differently after having read it, if that makes sense.  I’m itching to press the book I love so much into the hands of my sister, whom I love so much, knowing she’ll adore it too.
• PGP, HJ and Finny P. Everything I am, I owe to them. They encourage me to “just show up.”

Here’s to more happy days!

xo

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Shell

Shell

I wish I could explain it to people. I try. But you don’t know unless you’ve experienced it. Being pushed off a cliff into the depths of despair.

It can happen regardless of your life situation.

I am happier than I ever have been in my entire life. I have a wonderful life and yet I am depressed.

Really depressed. Not “I’m so depressed my favorite show was cancelled.”

No.

Lying-on-the-floor-staring-at-the-ceiling-while–you-sob-uncontrollably-depressed.

It’s very common with chronic illness. It bound to wear you down being in pain all of the time. I have been on an anti-depressant since shortly after being diagnosed with lupus. And with my recent back surgery, the pain has been endless and seemingly insurmountable.

I know some people think depression is a weakness, that life is sad. That you should be able to buck up and pull yourself out of it.

There is no pulling yourself out of this.

It’s horribly dark and so hopeless and scary.

I just felt empty. Hollow.

I’ve known for a while that my antidepressant wasn’t fully doing its job.

For YEARS my psychiatrist has been trying to get me off of my current antidepressant because he didn’t think it was right for me. I kept saying no. Why rock the boat? I deal with so much medical bullshit and so many other medications that the thought of transitioning to a new medication did not appeal.

Looks like my body made the decision for me. Three days before Christmas.

Ho fucking ho.

As I said, it felt like I had been pushed off a cliff.

And then suddenly, I was drowning.

I was paralyzed. Couldn’t get out of bed. Didn’t want to eat. Couldn’t help with the kids at all. My whole body hurt. I couldn’t think straight.

Luckily, I am married to the ultimate human being and have a superhero bestie who came bearing vegan ice cream sandies and laid in bed with me while I cried. She may as well have been wearing a cape.

I finally got my doctor on the phone, explained the situation and med changes were quickly made.

And now I wait. And experience all of the quirky and horrible side effects that come with transitioning off of one medication and onto another.

***The above was written December 22***

Today is January 6 and just YESTERDAY did I start to feel like me again. I showered and actually left the house. I smiled genuinely for the first time in WEEKS and it felt SO GOOD. I can not even explain the feeling. I was jubilant. I felt free.

I debated whether or not to even post this. While talking to Meg though, she helped me realize it’s not something I’m ashamed of and if anything, posting this will educate someone or help someone else feel like they are less alone.

PS – If you do happen to know someone who is struggling with depression, do not, under any circumstances say anything like this to them “But you’re pretty and skinny. What do you have to be depressed about?” Because you might get punched in the teeth.

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