Oh, hi there.
I started this post earlier this month because I had my cranky pants on and once I had typed those initial three words, I gave up. I couldn’t write anymore.
This is how my depression manifests itself, a deep seated displeasure with the world around me. If something (anything at all) is not quite right, I become moody, intolerable and cannot reason. Therein lies the incongruence of this illness and my diagnosis. This is not typical depression, right? I mean, everyone is supposed to be melancholic, sad and unmotivated. Wrong.
I’ve read many people’s stories on depression and everyone is different, completely different. However I think the crucial component of depression is the word ‘mood’. Yes, depression is a mood disorder. Despite my moodiness I still remain functional and externally a happy person. That sounded contradictory didn’t it? Aside, what’s inside eats like a ravenous, diseased pig.
I’m controlled by medications and have been through a broad spectrum of anti-depressants since first diagnosed. With each one I initially felt high as a kite but within weeks slipped back to the mood familiar to many close to me. Besides, I don’t like being chemically composed but have no choice. Really I don’t if I’m to continue living with the woman I love and two devastatingly, irresistible daughters.
I’m now asking myself why I’m writing this and to be frank, I don’t know. Maybe I shouldn’t look for answers and live this life given to me without worrying about how clean the kitchen bench is. I’m fastidious but not beyond reason and know I need to mellow. I wish I could shed these cranky pants.
Carpe diem quam minimum credula postero.