At the beginning of January, I checked in with my psychiatrist. Together we determined that, despite my med regimen, I have been having some minor signs of depression, lack of motivation being the most prevalent sign. She recommended that I up the dosage of one of my three meds in an attempt to minimize my depression, give me more energy, and give me a little bit of motivation. In the last couple of weeks on the higher dose, I have noticed a slight increase in energy and motivation, though not the dramatic transformation I was expecting. The failure of my meds to transform my mood has left me thinking about the reality of chronic depression. The reality is that depression changes you. That despite my med regimen, and any therapy I seek, I will never experience life like I did before the depressive episode that sent me into a downward spiral. The highs and lows that existed before meds have been minimized, which is not a bad thing because the lows are not nearly as low, but the joy I felt during the highs has also been reduced. I often feel like a shell of my former self. I look in the mirror and don’t always recognize the person staring back at me. People do not often talk about how depression robs you of your strength and your bravery. It deceives you by altering your view of reality. The hopeful, fearless girl I once was has been replaced by a scared, anxious adult. Depression is struggle. It is sadness. I once felt that I had everything to gain and nothing to lose. Now I feel like I have everything to lose and very little to gain. In her song Used to be Mine Sarah Bareilles sings:
It's not what I asked for
Sometimes life just slips in through a back door
And carves out a person
And makes you believe it's all true
And now I've got you
And you're not what I asked for
Depression changes you! However, that change is not always for the worse.
Depression is humbling. And it is that humility that has made me a better person. When I was young, I was often arrogant and extremely quick to judge. At one point in time, I was against mental health medication (I believed therapy was enough), that is until my own mental health was in jeopardy, despite years of intensive therapy. Depression has taught me empathy. It has taught me patience. Though I wouldn’t wish my experience on anyone, I can recognize that I am a better person for living it. Do I accept my mental health struggles? Not always. However, I know that though I have lost pieces of myself I have also discovered my capacity to love and empathize with others. I am still working on accepting my depression. I hope that one day I can learn to accept it for what it is, a part of myself rather than my whole self.
