HONESTY

Life is incredibly hard. I'm learning that more and more as I get older.

As those of you who've read my blog for a while know, I have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD) and was able to kick the symptoms after a period of 4 years of struggle. Last Thanksgiving I very happily quit taking the medication because I no longer needed it to fight my OCD symptoms. It was a very wonderful moment.

Since the beginning of this year, however, I have had a new struggle. I've been kind of wondering if this might be partly due to my ending the medication, but regardless, the honest truth is that I've been going through a major depressive episode that has really hit me hard. I have never felt like this before... never. It has really scared me and I know I've scared others sometimes. I've always been one to enjoy life and want to do many things in it. So, depression seems antithetical to my personality. And yet, here it is. Why?

I never really understood what depression was before, until now, until I've gone through it myself, until I can understand and feel the complete lack of interest in everything and anything in life. At times, it's felt overwhelmingly physical to where I have pain in my chest and stomach.

I don't want to do anything. I don't even know what would be "fun" anymore. Nothing interests me-- not happy things, music, parties, sex, movies, social groups, work, politics, volunteering, the news, the ocean, the weather, nothing. These are things that I have always loved so much, as well as many others. And yet, throughout this period I've been struggling with caring about anything. I hardly want to get out of bed, simply for lack of interest in anything to do.

So, a few months ago I sought help. I knew I needed it badly. And I know you guys out there have noticed how my posts have been sporadic, and even sometimes extremely sad and disturbing. I'm sorry if I've scared or worried you. Honestly, I've been scared and worried about myself too. About two months ago I went back on medication. I knew I needed that, even though I greatly hated getting back on medication. It made me feel dependent. It made me feel lonely. It made me feel like a loser. And depression.... depression.... I don't want to define myself like that. It sounds so utterly stupid, pathetic, and unreal. But here I am.

In 1997 when I was diagnosed with OCD I honestly felt a great relief. I finally realized that life didn't have to be like it was, that I wasn't crazy, that there were options and that I could get better. In 2002, being diagnosed now with depression, I don't feel those same positive thoughts. I still want to hide away from this reality, this diagnosis, this hurt, this life. Honestly. And it's hard. But I know that I can get better if I keep fighting. And, my friends, it is a tremendous and arduous struggle. Everyday. Every minute. Just to do the things we take for granted have become great chores. Just to smile has become a question of personhood. Just to live has become a constant question of my own self. I'm going through a very difficult period. This is the beginning of my "coming out" to be honest with you, everyone, and myself. This is the beginning of admitting I have a problem and that I very much want to get better.

This is the beginning. It's hard. But I appreciate you being here along the way with me. And I know that if I can kick OCD, I can kick this too. I have to. It's that simple. And I hope that this honesty will begin the process. Thank you for listening and being here with me during this time.