I do believe that I am depressed. I've been through depression once before. A severe depression that wreaked havoc on my life. A depression that caused me to rip my hair out and scratch myself until I bled. The kind of depression that required two anti-depressants and various anti anxiety medications to cope. A depression that forced me to take a leave of absence from work to attend doctor ordered "mental health" classes three hours a day for two weeks.
A depression that made me want to die.
Even though the feelings are the same, I am reacting to it in a much different way. I don't know how to explain that statement other than to say that this time, I have a clear understanding as to WHY this is happening to me. I know that it is a symptom of my disease..
I have been in a bit of denial about it, hoping that once the medication kicked in, it would go away and I would magically stop being depressed! But-- almost three months later, that hasn't happened. It's becoming clear to me that taking care of my mental health is just as important as taking care of my physical health and so, I am thinking an appointment with my therapist (and most likely psychiatrist) is in order.
I'm trying really hard not to dwell on these depressing feelings. On Sunday, I had a panic attack in the shower while getting ready to go to a birthday party for my niece. I didn't want to go, I didn't want people to see me this way, but my husband begged me to go and I knew that his family would be hurt if I didn't go. So, I put my feelings aside and got my depressed ass in the shower. I began to cry and the crying turned into sobbing and the next thing I knew, I was hyperventilating. It had been YEARS since I had a panic attack. When I came out of the shower, my face was swollen, my eyes were puffy, I looked like hell. I wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed and send my husband and children off without me.
But I didn't. I went. I went, swollen, blotchy face and all.
I hated being there, I hated it. Until my mother in law walked over and told me how happy she was to see me. I began to cry. I told her that I didn't want to there, but that I went for my husband and for my children. She didn't judge me, or get angry with me. She hugged me and told me that she loved and missed me.
I realized that is what I need. I need to be around people who love me, even if it's painful and even if I hate how fat I am or if I'm wearing the same damn outfit every time that I see them.
That was the mistake that I made last time. I isolated myself from people and I am well on the path to doing that again this time. But, regardless of how depressed I feel, the truth is that I still have choices. I can choose to wrap myself in a blanket and hide from the world again, or I can be honest and say "I really don't want to be here, but I'm here because I love you and I really, really need you right now."
In closing, I want to say something that I know is going to sound VERY CORNY, but I need to say it anyway.
I want to say thank you to everyone who has continued to read the words that I write through this difficult time in my life. I know that it must get annoying to continually read about how awful I feel and yet some of you keep coming back to check up on m. Some of you take the time to send emails of your own stories with thyroid disease, or advice (some of which I WOULD BE SO LOST WITHOUT.) or just words of love and encouragement to help me through this. I am so grateful and I just wanted you to know that. [/The Corn.]








You're awesome. When you're depressed, it takes serious guts to make difficult decisions like "get out of bed" and "be around people." Sometimes that's hard to do even when you're feeling good about things. So for you to consciously decide to do those things that are so very hard right now, well, you're simply marvelous. You WILL BE ALRIGHT. It may take some time, but IT WILL HAPPEN. I will continue to drink to you while we wait.