depression
It is not just a matter of feeling sad; discover an honest view of the mental, emotional and physical toll of clinical depression.
Prisoner in My Own Mind
A sensitive subject. A subject that used to be tip-toed around and ignored. Luckily, that's not really the case anymore. It's not the first topic of conversation for everyone, but it's definitely acknowledged more. I guess, because it is a sensitive subject, most people feel awkward and embarrassed to accept and speak about mental health; either personally or in general. I was one of those people. I thought it was something to be ashamed of; that it wasn't normal. I convinced myself it was problem that would go away if I didn't feed it any attention. It did the opposite.
By Sasha-Leigh Hazlewood8 years ago in Psyche
When Your Depression Isn’t Worthy
So I am in my mid 30s. I am married. I have three children aged between 4-14. I have a job. Actually, I have two jobs. I have experienced tragedy, recently. But long before all the recent heartache, tragedy, and trauma, I suffered with depression and anxiety.
By Holi Jackson8 years ago in Psyche
My Own Raw '13 Reasons Why' Story
I have lived with suicide ideation since I was 13 years old. I grew up in a strict Jehovah's Witness family and formed sort of Stockholm syndrome effects along with suicide ideation. My captors, in this case, being my mother and the rest of my siblings. I ignored my depression because I would hear that it was a teenager phase. After I turned 20, I had come to realize it was not a teenager phase. After I sought therapy behind my mother's back, I had concluded that my illness was not an illness but the direct factor of my religion causing me extreme anxiety. As a Jehovah's Witness, you are controlled in every aspect of your life: what job you get, what friends you have, what you do for entertainment, what you can and cannot wear. I was a mess and developed social anxiety from being constantly observed and judged by my church and family and even by my closest two-faced friends there. When I turned 24, I hit a breaking point, I couldn't be around people without freaking out and had to quit my job as a waitress because I would throw up. I felt so broken and trapped and had no friends outside of church because the Jehovah's Witness church enforces you to only associate with people of the church. I felt this was it, this is how they control you; they tell you to not talk to anyone else because when you want to leave you'll feel forced to stay. At this point, my suicide ideation became more active and I tried drinking roach poison but found the bottle to be empty. See, I didn't care if it made me sick and didn't kill me, I was just trying to destroy my body at this point. I didn't care how and this was the beginning of severe suicide ideation. I had lost all fear to die. I had created an Instagram account blankxspace1991 (which you're welcome to follow) or at the time was emilieautumnfanpage and decided to vent online to strangers. This would be the beginning of so much pain and misery. These strangers offered me a place to stay after moving out with an old church friend and things going south. I decided to move with a girl online that I have only spoken to on the phone from California. I had continued my suicide ideation but met a guy online from Brazil around the time that I lived with my mom. After moving to California my plan was to see this boy and I made him my reason to not kill myself. He wouldn't leave me alone but I had broken up with him two times, telling him I was going to kill myself. I did not kill myself and we got back together. After a terrible disagreement between my online friend and her boyfriend, I was kicked out. I moved in with my boss who, to my surprise, lived in a dirty warehouse; he tried to harass me and I still stayed. After the suicide ideation continued, I often thought of stabbing myself but feared not having the strength to keep stabbing I only thought of it. I kept crying and my boss told me I needed to smile and I lost my mind and got fired for not smiling. Though in reality, I probably got fired for not giving in to him. I left the warehouse and moved in with another friend but had to leave because they were under housing. I moved to Dallas with, yet again, another online stranger friend. I had decided to go to the hospital and had broken up with the boyfriend from Brazil after fearing I would seriously kill myself this time. I left without saying anything to him. Instead of killing myself, I admitted myself to a mental hospital called the Seay Center in Plano, Texas. I had expected that I was in hands of professionals but I was not. My psychiatrist, Dr. Aina, wanted to focus on talking about meds. He did not care or maybe he just preferred to ignore the therapy part. For the nine days that I stayed there I felt suicidal, I even thought of trading rooms with someone that was sleeping next to a schizophrenic patient. Though I expressed my suicide ideation of wanting to be killed by that patient in group therapy. If I'm here and want to get help, I can't hide any bit of my thoughts. The new patients were starting to be predominately alcoholic men to which I felt triggered after the incident with my boss. I went to my room and cried and the medical technicians surrounded me. One medical technician named Janice came into my room to tell me to try making a mantra which helped her. She saw me crying and the last thing I can think of is anything positive. I told her I did not want to go because at the moment I was feeling terrible. My medication wasn't working, my suicide ideation continued thinking could I bang my head hard enough in the shower? Here is the perfect place to die I thought. Nobody knows me, nobody really can stop me. Janice then told me do you want to be sad in your room or do you want to try to feel better? I told her that I did not appreciate her using the word want. To which she repeated again do you want to be sad in your room? I said I don't want to do it. And she sighed, rolled her eyes, and stomped out of my room. To which I yelled at her, "Oh yeah you rolling your eyes is really going to make me feel better." That was my breaking point, my meds were not working and I was being attacked by this fucking bitch. This bitch that reminds me of every fucking person telling me that I want to be sad. Including that boyfriend from Brazil that called my depression and reactions immature.
By shemindfreak .8 years ago in Psyche
Postpartum Blues
Lethargic, lack of motivation, the relentless pessimistic attitude that pushes your loved ones away, these are a few of many different symptoms that one would experience with depression. But what if this all happened after welcoming a new bundle of joy into the world that is supposed to bring nothing but bliss and excitement? Whether they are embarrassed or completely unaware that they have it, very few women talk about post-partum depression. However, what if you knew you weren't alone, and that often times these feelings are completely normal and experienced by mothers across the world?
By Victoria Journey8 years ago in Psyche
Overcoming Myself
Depression, self-harm, and thoughts of suicide are all issues that I've struggled with since I was in middle school. Being an outcast who was overweight wasn't exactly anyone's idea of fitting in. People made fun of me, called me names, put all these hurtful labels on me, and they tore me to pieces. They broke me completely.
By Katie Lynn Herr8 years ago in Psyche
Happiness: It's Up To You
For 8 years I've been depressed, attempted suicide 6 times, lost my faith, and constantly neglected myself. It started with the bullying. I was a nice girl, too nice. Stood on my tippy toes, cheered, sucked my thumb, sang proudly, and enjoyed learning. Apparently, that made me an easy target. Kids would hide my belongings from me, call me names that, to this day, I still don't know what it means, pull my hair, etc. Nobody ever helped me. I didn't have that really kind and brave student that would stand up for me like in the movies, and I was too ashamed to tell teachers.
By Lyssa Wyssa💐♐8 years ago in Psyche
How to Overcome Depression
Before starting treatment for my bipolar disorder, I was suffering with major mood swings. Sometimes I'd be high and on top of the world, like nothing could touch me. But then there was always the depression. It came like a nightmare and stayed for what felt like forever so that I couldn't escape it. You don't have to tell me that it's hard to handle depression—I know it is. Now that I'm stabilized and clear-headed, I feel like a totally different person. Someone asked me, "What advice would you give to someone who is depressed or feeling lost?" Keep in mind, some cases of depression are a lot harder than others. But here's some advice that I can give, and hopefully, it helps someone on their journey to a safe and healthy mindset.
By Amanda Doyle8 years ago in Psyche
I'd Like to Think That I Can Be Fixed
I have come to the theory that I am broken and need to be fixed. I feel like a malfunctioning microchip from a computer. One of those that cause several pop ups that tell you you have about 100 viruses now coursing through your software.
By Eliza Vargas8 years ago in Psyche
It's All in Your Head
For years, I heard, “it’s all in your head,” and “mind over matter,” or even worse, “just get over it.” While there is a grain of truth to that, I am sick of “all in your head” being used as a derogatory term for a real, valid health condition. It is time to break the stigma on mental health issues.
By Harlie Wood8 years ago in Psyche
The Little Girl That Couldn't Until She Could
There once was a girl, always happy and smiling. People would comment on her little smile and adorable dimples. She had a huge laugh for a tiny person. But nothing can last forever, right? Her little smile and adorable dimples faded, and her big laugh was silenced.
By Julia Rivard8 years ago in Psyche
Depression and Dissociation; A Story of a Cruel Coalition
We’ve all heard the sayings, the motivational quotes, the words that guide you to look at the positive. Time is a magnificent creature, they tell me, and in its passing, you may heal. What if you no longer possessed the power to look at the glass half full; Susie! your own mind is working against you. Neither does it give you enough serotonin nor the strength to overcome the replenishment of the very resource. What if your mind made you forget what it's like to feel joy? True joy, not the high you feel from a fake laugh or dancing in the dark. What if it made you forget you ever experienced the feeling too? Like it turned the pictures of all the memories you stored in your heart to black and white. So you see the young version of yourself laughing as your dad tickles you utnil you cry but you no longer remember how that must have felt like. Oh! How the weary find their way to worsen the state they are in, without intention or action. What if the weight of each day became too great? Your lungs couldn’t even handle the weight that dispersed to your chest from your shoulders. Blame the mind that’s been placed upon the two, if you may. Every breath became a conscious effort. To have to think and schedule every inhale and exhale, now that’s what I call true exhaustion. Did your legs too ever stake claim to your burdens and lose the will to carry your body? It seems like you’ll have to learn how to walk again. My words, you read, but do you feel my pain. Do you feel it yet?
By Ayesha Javed8 years ago in Psyche
