I-have an ongoing battle with genetic depression. When the heat is on, I can usually count on it lasting no longer than a month, but it has usually been less than that.
March 2004, after being diagnosed with ADD, a new medication was added to my already daily antidepressant. At first, this was a great thing...but now, looking back, I see that I've slowly slipped into a deep hole and have yet to find a way out of it.
Before things started getting bad, I had initiated some lofty projects and my art career was beginning to boom. Once the poop hit the fan, I was chest deep in commitments and found myself floundering.
There are pros and cons with having genetic depression. The pros are, because of my family history of depression, addiction, physical and chemical abuse, not to mention suicides...I can take comfort in the fact that what's wrong with me is the way my brain is wired (the depression runs in the family of my birth father). I also take comfort in the fact that medicine today, advancements in studies of the brain, etc., are much more advanced than when my grandmother lost her life to an overdose...not to mention my cousin and uncle...who else? I just don't know. My brave mother ended her marriage to my birth father when I was only 4 and saved us from God knows what.
The Cons for having genetic depression are feelings of being alone and misunderstood and never having a "good enough" reason for being so blue. I seem to have been the only daughter affected with this, so growing up I was never understood. (have great relationships with my mom and (adopted) dad now...they're awesome...my sister is a different story, I'm not sure that relationship will ever be saved.) With genetic depression, I never know what will trigger it. I believe that with most people, depression is triggered by a traumatic loss or event, stress, etc. Over the last year and a half, I never know from one morning to the next how I will feel when I wake up. Since this most recent episode crashed into my life during a crucial and very committed time in my art and family life, to say it wreaked havoc around me would be an understatement.
Most of the wonderful people who deal with me on an art level don't know me from Adam. One minute they see an artist who is passionate, has an updated website, has visionary ideas and projects underway. Suddenly, I disappear. "Where the hell is she? Why isn't she answering my emails?? Can't she at LEAST respect me enough to keep in touch? sheesh?!?!" I can completely understand these valid questions and feelings. What they don't know is that I am lucky not to be in tears every day. For no reason. I have no good excuses as to why my world has suddenly crumbled around me. I lock myself in my home, pretend to my kids and family that everything is alright...happy homemaker...and at the same time I'm looking for a way out. I would never want to kill myself...but is it possible to commit a botched suicide so that I could be committed to a hospital for several weeks? The ultimate escape for someone who can't imagine living one more day in this living hell inside my head.
If you can possibly imagine this...and I pray none of you have ever lived it....Can you understand why I'm choosing to not even open emails asking me where the Art4aCure decks are? "Where are my collage sheets, you no good, disrespectful artist? How can any decent person not follow through on commitments?" Once again, very legitimate questions and feelings...
I'm hanging on by my fingernails. Have been blessed with friends who have known me long before this has happened. People who really KNOW me....and love me. I can't even expect that the rest of you do...how do you know someone you've only seen in emails?
I am going to beat this thing and am actively working on it...I'm tired of saying I"m sorry for everything. When I'm no longer insane, I will respond to everyone...give refunds, all of it...
but right now...this minute, it's impossible. This minute, I'm just hoping to squeak through another day.