Depression: Failure and Embarassment

There is a desperate need to have people understand what it is like to be really depressed ... somehow if I can help others understand it will put me back in charge - it will mean that I have a handle on the situation.  I reach and stretch - scream and cry - desperately trying not to sink - not to fall - not to let the darkness envelope me completely.  Depression is an illness that really is, all in your head.  The chemicals in my brain - my neurons - my very brain cells themselves, have a weakness - a serious weakness - that if not closely monitored - if not fought tooth and nail - will kill me.  When it gets really bad I start to hear third person conversations in my head.  They say, "Kate shot herself in the head."  These thoughts are completely unwelcome by me - they are a desperate message from my brain to my consciousness that we are red lining - again.  As is the pattern with my loyal trifecta, the depression grows, the anxiety increases, the pain starts screaming louder than normal.  To give up - to give in - is NOT an option ... well, it is - that is part of how I have control.  I know that I have two choices everyday - to get on with living or get on with dying.

I am at a crossroads between success and failure.  For whatever reason, writing an eight page essay for English and a research paper for Psychology has become an absolute miserable nightmare that has me verging on complete failure.  Before all the incidents of brain damage, writing came very easily to me.  Writing an eight page English essay was a lark.  Now, every sentence, every coherent thought is a struggle.  My brain becomes overwhelmed and refuses to respond.  I close my eyes - breath through the stress of the brain malfunction - hit the reset button and try again.  How many times I have performed this action during these sit down sessions to write I can not begin to count.  Sometimes I just have to walk away but I must come back ... I have no choice.  If I stop trying I fail and fail hard.  How can I face my own self in the mirror if I do not write the papers, pass these final two classes and obtain my undergraduate degree at last.

The ultimate embarrassment was having to admit this colossal brain breakdown to my two teachers.  To confess to brain failure due to depression is hard for someone who has never suffered depression to understand.  I have the backup of the paperwork from the Disabled Student's Office to "prove" my claim and yet there is a chasm that can not be crossed between my reality and their understanding of what I am going through.  It is like trying to have a conversation with someone while on opposites sides of the grand canyon - you might get bits and pieces but you won't be able to understand the whole of what the other person is trying to scream across the canyon at you.  That is what it feels like to communicate with others on a more professional level about my struggle.  I did what I didn't want to do but was forced to do because of my illness ... I sent them what I had actually written so far to show that some progress had been made but still ... to admit the failure and why ... it breaks me down just that much further.

The sands are slipping through my fingers - I am praying for a miracle as I say prayers of thanks and gratitude for the family and friends who love and support me. I look at the faces of my daughters - feel their hugs and know, there is no choice - I can not fail for if I can not face myself, how can I face them?