Unable to take this current medication any longer, I went and saw my doctor. He's going to put me on a different med, Abilify. Hopefully this one will be much better than the one I'm on now.
Because quite frankly, the past two months has been a trip down the rabbit hole that I wish I didn't take.
Everything has gotten twisted around in my head. I'm not the same person I was 2 months ago, and looking back now, I miss my old self. Sure, I would get randomly depressed and go into major funks. But at least I didn't have the bad shaking and the bad attitude. If Abilify doesn't work for me, then I'm going to get my doctor to just put me back on the med I was on originally.
I've been thinking about the past a lot this morning. Mainly, I've been thinking about the friendships I've made in the past that, over time, have become lost to me. I am not a social person, so some of the best friends I've had in life are the ones I've made online. I call these lost friends of the past, "Ghosts". Because even after all these years, I still randomly think about them, wonder how they're doing, what they're up to, if they even still remember me. I guess you could say that the old friendships "haunt" me.
Even so, there are friends I've made recently that I am still in touch with. People who I trust with my everyday rants and problems and really bad jokes.
There is Renee, my friend from Canada. I met her on deviantART. She's a brilliant poet who knows a lot about life. It never fails for us to write each other "novel" length messages to each other about our lives. Which is what I love, because even though we've been friends for several years now, we always have something new and interesting to talk about.
There is Alison, another astonishing poet and writer who I met on a old site called Free Open Diary about 10 years ago. She's in her early 20's now, and I've been talking to her since she was a teenager. In some weird internet way, I've watched her grow into an intelligent young woman. I almost feel like her creepy old uncle haha. I can always count on her for good advice, and what I respect most about her is that she doesn't judge me or hold it against me that we have different views on God and religion. She's probably the smartest Christian I've ever met. And she's completely obsessed with Harry Potter, which is a plus =P
Then there is Anna, a girl I used to go to high school with. We lost touch for a long time, only occasionally bumping into each other at Wal-Mart. But then after a tragedy in her life, we started talking again. She's also a writer (all my friends are writers haha). She's very creative and artistic. I know I can go to her about anything, any problem, and she'll always be there to listen and not judge me. She's not a religious person, but I would say she's very spiritual. She knows the darkest depths of Depression just like I do, and I hope I've helped her as much as she's helped me in the past.
I may not have very many friends, but the ones I do have, I count my blessings that they are apart of my life. Sure, I may never meet them in person, may never be able to actually hang out with them, but at the end of the day, I still count them as my closest friends because of the words we share together. What does a few hundred or thousand miles matter when it comes to the bond of true friendship?
~D. C. Blanton
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Sunday, February 19, 2012
The Price of Reality
I've been taking medications for my illness ever since I was 14 or 15. Over the course of the past 15 years, I've been on several different medications. Some of them defiantly worked better than others. Some gave false hope, only to fizzle out after a while.
Almost two months ago, my doctor took me off one of my medications, one I had been on for a long time. He replaced it with another medication. A medication that is supposed to help me think more clearly and help me fight my depression.
I can honestly say that the dark fog has been lifted from my mind. My mind finally feels free from the shackles of depression and madness. However, The Price of This Reality has come at a price.
It has horrible side effects. During the day time hours, I feel like a million bucks. I'm cracking jokes with my wife, I smile and laugh more, and everything in the world just makes sense. But then when the sun goes down, it all goes to shit. I get these really bad shakes in my body, as if I'm constantly cold. The thoughts in my mind get a little jumbled, and I lose all desire to do anything productive or constructive.
So, I finally find a medication that seems to really work for me, but these side effects are killer. Sometimes I've snapped at my wife, as if a little bit of the Darkness in my mind is allowed to speak.
What do I do? Do I go back to my old medication? Do I take the risk of being depressed (Doom and Gloom as my wife likes to call it) again, or do I stay on this medication with the knowledge that whenever night falls, I'll feel like complete and utter shit?
I see my doctor again the first week of March. Between now and then I've got to make a decision. A seemingly small yet important one. It's been a very long time since I've felt this happy and high on life. Am I ready to give up happiness?
Why can't things ever be simple?
~D. C. Blanton
Almost two months ago, my doctor took me off one of my medications, one I had been on for a long time. He replaced it with another medication. A medication that is supposed to help me think more clearly and help me fight my depression.
I can honestly say that the dark fog has been lifted from my mind. My mind finally feels free from the shackles of depression and madness. However, The Price of This Reality has come at a price.
It has horrible side effects. During the day time hours, I feel like a million bucks. I'm cracking jokes with my wife, I smile and laugh more, and everything in the world just makes sense. But then when the sun goes down, it all goes to shit. I get these really bad shakes in my body, as if I'm constantly cold. The thoughts in my mind get a little jumbled, and I lose all desire to do anything productive or constructive.
So, I finally find a medication that seems to really work for me, but these side effects are killer. Sometimes I've snapped at my wife, as if a little bit of the Darkness in my mind is allowed to speak.
What do I do? Do I go back to my old medication? Do I take the risk of being depressed (Doom and Gloom as my wife likes to call it) again, or do I stay on this medication with the knowledge that whenever night falls, I'll feel like complete and utter shit?
I see my doctor again the first week of March. Between now and then I've got to make a decision. A seemingly small yet important one. It's been a very long time since I've felt this happy and high on life. Am I ready to give up happiness?
Why can't things ever be simple?
~D. C. Blanton
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
The Darkness. What is it? Where did it come from?
It's been with me since the very beginning, even if I didn't always know it. It just didn't make itself known to me until I was about 12 or 13. When I hit my teenage years, everything changed. What was a great and simple childhood faded into shadows, and the War begun.
It's normal for a person to get depressed or a little sad now and then. Something bad happens, you get depressed. Your favorite pet dies, you get depressed. Your best friend betrays you, you get depressed. There are thousands of reasons for a normal person to naturally feel depressed. But as time goes on, they learn their lesson, they heal, and they move on.
I was different. I had these feelings, these thoughts of madness. I was getting depressed for no good reason. I was getting angry at everything and everyone. I was becoming more and more delusional. I had essentially dove head first down the rabbit hole, as it were.
When I was 15 I was put into a mental hospital. My parents were fortunately smart enough to see that their only son had a serious problem and got me the help I needed. I hated them for it at the time, but looking back at it 15 years later, it was the best thing that could have ever happen to me.
I was put on medications. Medications that took the edge off, but there is no cure for what I have. There is no cure for Major Depression. People seem to think that you just take your "Happy Pills" and everything is better. That one suffering from what I have is just supposed to be high all the time and care free because they're on "Happy Pills". I'm here to tell you first hand, it doesn't fucking work that way. The pills just give you a fighting chance. Help create a balance.
I've been battling this Darkness for so long, that thinking back to those early days of when I was just a mere teenager seem like such a distant memory. Did it even happen? Was I really that way? Where has my life gone?
Yet here I stand. I just turned 30 this past December. My teenage years along with my youthful 20's are now behind me. I stand here as a Testament, as a Survivor. My Depression, my very own personal Darkness, has not won the War. I have hundreds of emotional scars, and each one is a reminder and each one is a story to be told.
So why am I here? Why hasn't The Darkness won? Because, for some unknown reason to me, no matter how bad things get, I always had hope. There was always this single shred of Light that always refused to go out. What did I hope for? To be "normal"? To be truly happy? Pancakes? No, I just hope to make through another day. Because somehow I believe that one day it will get better. That in the grand scheme of things, one day, all this will make perfect sense. Then I can look myself in the mirror and be like, "Well yeah, that's why".
It's a new year. New year, new medication. I'm thinking more clear now. The Darkness, never gone, is for the first time in a long time, quietly at bay. Sure, I still get depressed every now and then, but it's no where near as bad as it has been in the past. I feel like I actually have control over The Darkness. I have a handle over it and I can use it as my own personal weapon. A shield of Light and a Sword of Darkness. Oh wait, is that me being delusional again?
I'm thankful that I have my lovely Queen, my wife. I'm thankful I have such a loving and understanding family. I don't have very many friends, but the ones I do have, I'm glad to be apart of their lives.
So here's hoping for a better tomorrow. And maybe, just maybe, one day it'll all make sense.
Your's Truly in Madness,
D. C. Blanton
It's been with me since the very beginning, even if I didn't always know it. It just didn't make itself known to me until I was about 12 or 13. When I hit my teenage years, everything changed. What was a great and simple childhood faded into shadows, and the War begun.
It's normal for a person to get depressed or a little sad now and then. Something bad happens, you get depressed. Your favorite pet dies, you get depressed. Your best friend betrays you, you get depressed. There are thousands of reasons for a normal person to naturally feel depressed. But as time goes on, they learn their lesson, they heal, and they move on.
I was different. I had these feelings, these thoughts of madness. I was getting depressed for no good reason. I was getting angry at everything and everyone. I was becoming more and more delusional. I had essentially dove head first down the rabbit hole, as it were.
When I was 15 I was put into a mental hospital. My parents were fortunately smart enough to see that their only son had a serious problem and got me the help I needed. I hated them for it at the time, but looking back at it 15 years later, it was the best thing that could have ever happen to me.
I was put on medications. Medications that took the edge off, but there is no cure for what I have. There is no cure for Major Depression. People seem to think that you just take your "Happy Pills" and everything is better. That one suffering from what I have is just supposed to be high all the time and care free because they're on "Happy Pills". I'm here to tell you first hand, it doesn't fucking work that way. The pills just give you a fighting chance. Help create a balance.
I've been battling this Darkness for so long, that thinking back to those early days of when I was just a mere teenager seem like such a distant memory. Did it even happen? Was I really that way? Where has my life gone?
Yet here I stand. I just turned 30 this past December. My teenage years along with my youthful 20's are now behind me. I stand here as a Testament, as a Survivor. My Depression, my very own personal Darkness, has not won the War. I have hundreds of emotional scars, and each one is a reminder and each one is a story to be told.
So why am I here? Why hasn't The Darkness won? Because, for some unknown reason to me, no matter how bad things get, I always had hope. There was always this single shred of Light that always refused to go out. What did I hope for? To be "normal"? To be truly happy? Pancakes? No, I just hope to make through another day. Because somehow I believe that one day it will get better. That in the grand scheme of things, one day, all this will make perfect sense. Then I can look myself in the mirror and be like, "Well yeah, that's why".
It's a new year. New year, new medication. I'm thinking more clear now. The Darkness, never gone, is for the first time in a long time, quietly at bay. Sure, I still get depressed every now and then, but it's no where near as bad as it has been in the past. I feel like I actually have control over The Darkness. I have a handle over it and I can use it as my own personal weapon. A shield of Light and a Sword of Darkness. Oh wait, is that me being delusional again?
I'm thankful that I have my lovely Queen, my wife. I'm thankful I have such a loving and understanding family. I don't have very many friends, but the ones I do have, I'm glad to be apart of their lives.
So here's hoping for a better tomorrow. And maybe, just maybe, one day it'll all make sense.
Your's Truly in Madness,
D. C. Blanton
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