Depression, the long and short of it!

Writing used to be something that kept my head screwed on straight. I could get on my soapbox and vent and people could laugh, if the post was funny, or vent back if they did not agree. Recently I have not wanted to write. Depression has taken over and at this point sucked the joy out of life.

Depression is insidious. It creeps into your brain and can take over like an army settling in for battle. It comes when you do not want it and leaves when it chooses. Many people feel that depression is a matter of choice. "Just snap out of it" "Too much drama" You are lazy" "Smile" or my favorite, "Things will get better"  Guess what people, sometimes it can take awhile for things to get better. Some depression cycles can last a day and if you are without medication because your doctor is a putz, it can go on for months or even years.

I have been living on the grace of others for a couple of years. I have pretty much lost everything. My problem is I saw this coming and could not seem to do anything to stop it.  I normally am creative and can work out a problem if I can get in touch with my mental tools but ever since the cancer diagnosis a couple of years ago and now the hand surgeries my mental tools are hiding. Good news I am cancer free, bad news my hand is not healing as fast as I want it to. Right now life is a bit sucky.

I am taking steps to get out of this cycle of depression. I see a new doctor next week for meds. Though this doctor too is a putz I am lucky to get an assessment  in a few weeks that will give me a chance to get the right meds for my problem, but at least in the meantime the old meds will be reinstated so I can get relief.

Many people do not know what goes on in the head of a depressive person. I can say everyone is different but for me, my head does not stop talking. I am not talking about hearing voices other than my own. All day long  the voice says you are worthless, unloveable, stupid, lazy, ugly, fat, have no one who cares, you are alone and forever will be. This does not stop. Do I believe all of that, well some moments I do. I am crying at this very moment cause to see it written down seems pretty bad. Meds help the head to shut up a bit so I can get those mental tools I talked about earlier to start making sense.

When you are depressed EVERYTHING bothers you. Sounds, loud talking, car horns, you name it and it could cause an anger jag or crying jag for no reason other than your brain goes that way. Your stomach can hurt, you don't sleep, you either don't eat, or in my case you eat too much and then get sick. Suicide enters my mind all the time, but I am not one to do it. Trust me on that one. The only thing that gets me a reprieve is humor. That is why I like reading facebook because many of my friends are very funny and post cartoons or saying that are funny.

Yes I am blessed in many ways. I do have people who love me but my head often overrides that thought. I am blessed that I have a few people who understand when I am this down and when needed can talk me off the ledge. I mean not a real ledge but the ledge that my mind is on. Is my life full of drama...yeah, it is. I have always had drama in my life. I am not sure when the meds I will get will alleviate the drama, but I can hope it will allow me to get to work on it so it will be less.

I guess what I am trying to say is this. If you have a depressed friend there may not be a way to help them. You can pray for them, and if willing to talk to them try. Sometimes one cannot deal with it and you need to separate from them. That can be sad for both sides but sometimes it is for the best. Mental health stigma really sucks. If you are depressed it seems worse because if you are Bi Polar or schizophrenic people know in most cases it is not the persons fault. With depression people turn away and figure you are either lazy, or unwilling to get better which is not the truth. I hate being depressed that this has been a really rough cycle which I am hoping there is a light soon, but until then I will do my best to carry on and get out of it the best I can. I am lucky I found a place I am going to next week that will occupy my brain and maybe get the creative juices flowing again. To this I am excited and I haven't felt that in awhile.

Yeah I guess this was a vent, and I am sorry if this bothers you. It bothers me. I know things are about to change. I am not holding my breath but I feel change is happening.  Just know I love you all, past and present friends and hoping in a bit I can get back to writing fun stories and express the creativity that is aching to come out! Now... off to clean to get out some of this pent up energy! OH BOY!!!!!

Coffee?????? Coffee!!!!!!

Now that I have your attention. I mean I could have titled this story as Sex, but have been told to write about things I know about and coffee seems to beat out sex by just a smidgen.

I woke up this morning to a startling revelation. Have you noticed that drinking coffee from home you can drink 3 cups of coffee in a half an hour but at Starbucks or (insert favorite coffee house here) it can take up to two hours to drink one cup? Yeah I know most of you would say I am with a friend and we talk, or you are reading a book. One could also state that it is so hot but I think the truth is if you are paying 5 bucks for a cup of coffee it better damn last!

I actually hate coffee, Now this may surprise a few of my friends since all I seem to talk about is Starbucks, my need of a gift card so I can drink Starbucks, coffee creamer and OMG I ran out of coffee. The truth is I really do not like the taste of it. I was asked by a friend why I put so much stuff in my coffee. I add creamer either flavored or not. If no creamer I add sugar and if I am really desperate I will add a package of hot chocolate to my coffee just to drink it. I find coffee bitter and the additives of sweetness makes it yummy and yeah I do like the kick it brings after a cup or five. Plain coffee is repulsive to me. Hopped up coffee drinks that taste like chocolate mint, or Pumpkin Spice or Caramel, well who can dislike that?

I have a friend name Dina and many of my friends know her. She is an amazing woman who, when she enters a room, can bring a smile on even the Grinch's face. Many years ago we worked together as advocates in the disability movement. I had noticed that she kept getting migraines and was in a lot of pain. I told her I had heard that the caffeine in coffee can help alleviate the pain. She had explained to me that she hated the taste of coffee. Well being the good co-worker I was, I told her I can find a way that she will drink it. She basically told me I was crazy, which I am and I ran off to find her a coffee drink that she would enjoy.

Now I also know that Dina loves chocolate so when I entered the coffee shop I got her a mocha, with extra shot of espresso and two extra shots of chocolate. Lo and behold she drank the coffee, enjoyed it and the headache began to go away. I mention this because I am the one who got my friend addicted to coffee and I am proud of it.

Coffee is a way for me to relax, unwind and if with friends sip slowly while catching up with their lives. I would rather do that with a glass of wine but people seem to frown upon this at 9 in the morning. My world revolves around coffee and if my little 4 cup brewer that my cousins Joni and Chris gave me, which by the way they had two coffee pots and never drink coffee, maybe they are not related to me. I digress, if the coffee pot ever breaks down, there would be a scream heard around the world. Then again......I would have a good excuse to drink my wine and that I do like, no creamer needed.

Writing,,,,again?

As I sit on my slightly lopsided bed, I began thinking what a friend asked me a few days ago whose name is withheld to protect the innocent. He asked me what is my passion. My passion.....I really hadn't thought about it for awhile since life has been throwing me a few curve balls the past few years. I loved working with the mentally disabled, low income branch of our population. I found out I was pretty good at it from having been there myself and well, am back there again. After a few moments of silence, my friend, whose patience level with me can be short, said your passion is writing. I looked at my phone which he had called me on like I could picture him in it. I am so glad we did not Skype the call because I turned all shades of white to bright red which really could have been the flu shot I had gotten a few hours earlier but will never know.

I have never claimed to be a writer. Most English majors could find fault the way I write. I am not "grammatically correct" nor am I often linear in my thoughts. I write like I talk. Sometimes short sentences and sometime long rambling tirades of crap. I was forced into writing by another friend sick of my story telling and basically told me to write these stories down. After a few stories and some good feedback from friends, I thought maybe I could write. For a year or so I wrote a lot of short stories about my life, some sad but many funny. I got a lot of good feedback and even was published once. Then it all stopped. Now that I think about it not only did the writing stop but so did my love of anything. I became more depressed, angry, sad, frustrated and useless. I lost my sense of humor and dwelled on the old saying "oh woe  is me"  Ok, some of my friend may say I was always like that, but they lie. Ok, they did not lie because there are periods of time I had been like that but I was most upset on losing my sense of humor.

My humor is, shall I say, a little off the wall. I was brought up in a family that was a lot off the wall and my humor came from observing things and letting my mouth open and say whatever came out. I liked my sense of humor. My sense of humor kept the depression at bay. When I felt I lost it, the depression came back in full force. I succumbed to the depression and allowed myself to wallow in doubt, fear, and anger and as we all know, that is not a way to live.

Is writing my passion? Gee, hell if I know. Right now, I  feel more in charge than I have in a long time. Will I continue to write stories of my life. Again, I am not sure but if it makes me feel like I do this moment, it would be a good choice.

So thank you Jorge ( shoot, sorry kiddo) for the call and the talk. Writing this short bit is making my day feel better. Well it was either the writing or the darn good oatmeal I made with my coffee that is keeping a smile on my face. So I guess my question is.....Should I continue to write or not. Truth is, I just want to see who answers the question.  My answer is yes, do I hear another?