Relapse, deteriorating, worsening…symptomatic, sick, not well, dip. What should this be called? It came on so quickly, I am simply not sure how to label it and yet it feels like it needs to be labeled as something. It needs to have a name so I can feel some validation of my experience. It’s not a big deal but it kind of is, to me, in my head. Within one week I went from a relatively normal mom and wife, with everyday worries about my family and life in general to a woman with such darkness inside, self-hatred, no self-compassion, difficulty sleeping, eating just to eat and not really enjoying the food, extreme fatigue and hopelessness. Damn, it came so fast. I envision depression as a black ink blot that can fluidly move wherever and whenever it wants. When it wins, which it did as of last week, it is bolstered with more energy and more stamina while mine becomes depleted.
Lessons learned: Last week my husband told me to call my psychiatrist and my TMS (Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation) nurse. Each day I would give another excuse as to why I did not call. Honestly, I thought with each new day that I would begin to feel better. I also did not want this to be real. Who can blame me? It’s been a trying few years and if I were to call this #4 (4th depressive episode within 3 years) it would give it too much power even if that was my reality. My husband now knows he should not believe me when I say I will reach out at these times, because, most likely, I won’t. I am usually not thinking clearly and should not be trusted. He has permission to contact any of my treatment team on my behalf. In a way, it is empowering for us both as he can play a vital part in my treatment and recovery.
I had TMS this afternoon after returning to Hartford from Boston where I saw my therapist. While I felt numb and negative this morning, following my therapy session, I felt a bit more clear about what I need to do. I need to jump on this shit and beat it down. I am worth it and even when I do not believe that, I will still be worth it. My husband and daughter are worth it. I can do this. I can try not to wallow. I can advocate for myself and am ready for a battle with my insurance company re: TMS treatments, if necessary. It basically comes down to the TMS. That is what will pull me back out of this and that will be my ongoing treatment to ward off any further episodes.
So, what do I want to call this? Well, it’s depression and it’s being treated very early on. It could be a relapse or a deterioration but why can’t I call it what it simply is? I have depression. That fits and that feels right. I don’t want to get too caught up with semantics but one thing I have learned from DBT (Dialectical Behavioral Therapy) is the importance of having one’s thoughts and feelings validated. My thoughts and feelings are mine and they are experienced by me. I feel depressed. I am not comfortable calling it my relapse, my deterioration, my dip. It does not feel right for me. There does not need to be any fanfare and I am now doing what I am supposed to do to get better. I am depressed. There it is. That is what it is so let’s just go with that.
Risa's Reality 