'My diagnosis is not a fiction of idlers': how to live with depression
'12.02.2022'
Source: lady.mail.ru
32-year-old Larisa works as an interior designer and enjoys yoga. Looking at this smiling girl, it is difficult to assume that a little more than a year ago she was diagnosed with depression. About what it is like to go from denial to acceptance and live fully, her frank story on lady.mail.ru. Next - from the first person.
Depression is not the invention of idlers
I have always been energetic and cheerful, I did not even suspect that this could affect me. But it touched. By the time I ended up in the psychiatrist's office and he prescribed antidepressants, I was almost at a breaking point. After all the torment, I was ready to take even poison, if only it would end, and therefore dutifully began to follow the doctor's recommendations.
First episode and saving oasis
The first episode of depression happened about six years ago, when I got my first serious job with a good position, which my peers only dreamed of. Now I know that it was just depression, but then I was at a loss, I even began to think that someone had jinxed me. Against the background of causeless anxiety, irritability and loss of appetite, I began to get sick often and for a long time. The usual runny nose did not go away for 3-4 weeks.
In between the sores, I tried to live a normal life - to meet with friends, go to parties, lead an active lifestyle. But there was a feeling that all this was empty and unreal, as if I had played a role in some infinitely tedious performance.
According to WHO, more than 300 million people suffer from depression, but only about 10% of them seek help from specialists.
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Waking up in the morning, I began to cry with pity and self-loathing. She forced herself to get out of bed in some way and forcibly dragged herself to work, which she already hated by that moment.
The only salutary oasis was then my (now former) boyfriend. It was enough for me to curl up at his side, to feel his warmth, and I calmed down. Unfortunately, this effect lasted exactly until I felt his presence tactilely. If I moved away at least a meter away, I didn’t want to live again. Strange as it may sound, but then I could exist more or less normally only in the arms of my boyfriend.
Diving in the bog
It is often said that depression begins suddenly, when everything is well and well. A year ago I would have said the same thing, but now I understand: everything was not at all good. The strongest trigger was a career that I, as it turned out, did not want at all. And this trigger, like on a ship’s blade in dirty water, “wound up” a lot of things: dissatisfaction with personal life, domestic disorder, problems with parents.
My boyfriend and I had serious disagreements about the future. Plus, I understood that I was too dependent on him. This addiction at the same time saved and killed: due to problems at work, I lost confidence in myself and was looking for support in my man, at the same time realizing that this support is very temporary. It was as if I stood on a bridge that was about to collapse, and I would fly into the abyss.
It was all crazy. Tears instead of morning coffee became a habit. I forgot to eat, and when I ate, I did not feel the taste. I might as well eat cardboard. When it became clear that my symptoms are similar to depression, I turned to a psychologist and decided that it was time to change something.
Changes
Working with a psychologist did not cure my depression, but therapy gave me a break and at least I was able to sort out my life. In the next three years, I quit my job, broke up with that guy, moved out, started a new relationship. I went through two or three relatively mild episodes (working with a psychologist and books on psychology, which I began to read like a man possessed, helped).
Return of Depression
Two years ago, I again covered. This time it was different - I was really fine. I was sure that depression would not happen again. But she repeated herself and this time she took with her panic attacks and insomnia.
My work is connected with creativity, and depression actually deprives you of the opportunity to create. You do not want to think, you do not want to communicate with people, sometimes you do not even want to breathe. For a couple of months, I lost all customers.
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There were days when I couldn't get myself out of bed. I was so exhausted by panic attacks and insomnia that it simply did not have the strength. I often read about this, but I did not think that I myself would come to this. Then I found out that the lead singer of my favorite band Linkin Park, Chester Bennington, had committed suicide, and I sobbed all night.
A year later, when, with the next episode of depression, the thought “wouldn’t send everything to hell like Chester” came to my mind, I called my psychologist and asked me to find a good psychiatrist.
