anxiety, depression, emotions

Functional

I am functional in many ways. I have been most of my life. I’m a functional alcoholic. For most of my life I had functional depression. I was great in school and at the top of my class. I was going to be a nuclear engineer. When that didn’t work out, I went into retail. I worked my way up the ladder over the years and was very successful in my stores.

Nobody really knew what was happening in my head. I was moody or sad. I was emotional or distant. I was shy or unfriendly. But in reality, I was suffering from depression. People couldn’t tell because I was so good at masking it and I was successful.

That all changed a few years ago. My walls starting crumbling faster than I could rebuild them. My success was starting to falter. My skills were becoming dull. My bed and my bottle were becoming my sanctuaries. All of the tricks that I learned in my life to mask and deal with my depression were failing me. I was failing. My career was failing. This was a new dimension that I had never dealt with.

I now know that my depression worsened. I was no longer suffering from functional depression. I was becoming less functional in everything. I was suffering from MDD (major depressive disorder). I was trapped in the walls of my mind that my depression built. Instead of my containing it, it was now the key master. I was the one being contained. My cage was a fiery pit while my body continued on throughout the day. People noticed that something was different, but my depression was able to fool even the best ones.

I ended up in therapy because the idea of being on medication for my whole life was too much to fathom. I was young. I didn’t want to be involved with anything until death. Well, except my husband of course. So I did therapy. It helped. I became functioning again, but not for long. After a couple of years, my walls keeping me prisoner were thicker, taller, and stronger than ever. I needed help and I couldn’t talk my way out of it this time. I couldn’t snark or schmooze my way past this gatekeeper.

Drugs have helped, of course, but I don’t know if I will ever get back to being fully functional again. I think the MDD is here to stay this time. I think I have a new companion for life, but at least I have my husband as well. I guess you could say that we are in a thruple, for better or worse.

Hopefully for better.

depression, emotions, Motivation

Anger

Anger. The hot, bitter, heart racing emotion. Red faced, ear blowing steam, bug-eyed emotion. It’s an important emotion because it can motivate us. It’s a dangerous emotion because it can destroy us. What we do with it determines what it does to us.

My depression makes me many things, but deep down, I have a burning anger inside of me. Like a volcano that sleeps for centuries, my anger can hide in plain site. But like that volcano, when it erupts, it’s a disaster and people get hurt. My insides explode and spill out onto anyone and anything in their path. And when it’s done, it goes back to sleep like nothing happened. But it did. It destroyed the beautiful world that was around us.

Like volcanoes, nature too can be sleepy or destructive. It can create trees that give us our air or plants that feed our bodies. I can blow winds hard enough to throw trees that weigh tons or soft enough to blow the hair from my eyes. When volcanoes erupt, nature sleeps, but slowly wakes. The destruction isn’t permanent because nature will always come back and reclaim this planet. It just takes time.

My anger bursts out of me at times and hurts those around me. When it goes back to sleep, I feel the devastation around me like burnt soil. I also know, however, that my nature will rise up and fix what it can, when it can. It won’t be right away and it might not be the same again, but my nature will always come back to rebuild me. And that is where my hope comes from.

Hope’ is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul and sings the tune without the words and never stops at all. ~Emily Dickinson