I think the medical professionals in my life all agree that depression is something I'll be dealing with for the rest of my life. Major depressive disorder has now become part of the fabric of my being. And there are those who would tell me to rise above it, but I can't. Depression is part of my life just like the infertility and my exceptional mode of speech (once described as "inimitable" and "Chandlerian" in the same sentence). Right now, it's not bugging me because of swift work on the part of my psychiatrist, but one day I'll be depressed and at least mildly suicidal again. Such is my lot. I trust that God knows what He's doing. But as I sit here writing two novels (one is fanfic, so don't be impressed), I like one of the things I read in the piece:
There is a long history and link between depression and creativity. It’s a bright light of this condition, so utilize it to your best advantage.Writing has helped tremendously. There are days when I'm too depressed or too stomach-buggy to do it (and either way all I want to do is nap), but it is my bright light. Photography makes me happy as long as I'm not busy comparing myself to better photographers (see the thing about the artist temperament in the previous post), so I consider myself lucky to have two things I love to do.
Some things about the article scare me--in particular:
4) Understand that antidepressants will only do so much. They’re useful, they’ll level you out and give you the time you need to figure out your own path to getting well. They can be helpful. There are lots to choose from. They may not be for you, and even if they are, they take some time to kick in. Conversely, they may not be for you. Work with your doctor.I feel like I'm using my drugs to do everything. And it's not just antidepressants--it's two kinds of mood stabilizers and an anti-anxiety drug as well. Psychology has become a sort of hobby as I sort through my own malady, but I still don't trust myself to be able to make good decisions involving my meds--every one I've tried has backfired, and I've ended up deeply suicidal. I was good at high school chemistry, but I don't get my own. But that's why we have psychiatric professionals, right.
And now to the blog's title: Food bloggers! I'm calling you out! Your special way of eating that you present with little to no scientific merit will not cure my depression! Exercise will not cure my depression! (It's here that I add that exercise can do wonders and I've seen it in action, but cure? Seriously?) Stop talking about epidemics! There have always been "mad" people! I have the book collection on the history of mental illness to prove it! Write recipes for roasted chicken and leave me alone with your amateur-at-best medical advice!
It's out of my system now. Anyway, Chris promised me a trip to the Dallas Museum of Art to the Chagall exhibit, so I better get back in bed before I'm too tired to go. It's just that 1:00 in the morning is when I do my best blogging. Toodle-loo.