Depression

It’s quite a broad subject, and one I can’t possibly cover in one blog. I imagine there will be many more on this subject in the future. Subjects such as diet, exercise, medications, therapy, and having a support group to help you on your journey towards self-love and happiness will all be topics of future blogs.

This one is about depression.

As survivors of childhood sexual trauma, I think most of us experience depression at some point in our lives.

A few years back, before coming to terms or even remembering the traumas of my childhood, I went through an experience of profound depression which left me bed bound for two years. Things like getting up to brush my teeth and shower literally were physically painful. The darkness took over every facet of my life. It swallowed up any light I had left within me. I was buried, in over my head. I felt there was no way out. No lighthouse to strive for. No saving grace to grasp for. Hopeless and helpless, I would try to understand why this was happening. This emptiness within. This bottomless pit.

Then there was my husband. Even his endless and boundless support couldn’t heal me. He would try and help by planning outings, weekend getaways, trips to Europe. I would put my best face on, and do these trips with him. They did make me feel better, but I always felt the darkness nipping at my heels, even during those happy moments. Then, we would return home, I’d crawl back into bed, only to have the darkness sweep over me once again.

Then there were the medications.

I’ve been on them all. Not one of them worked. Most of them made me feel worse. The endless cycle of trying out a new medication, only to be told to wait 6 weeks for it to have an effect on me. I’d wait out those long weeks, have the dosage adjusted, then wait again. It was a merry-go-round of drugs and waiting, and letdowns when they ended up useless to my condition. Sometimes the side effects were debilitating. The fogginess, the nausea, the headaches, the weight gain. Something had to give.

It wasn’t until years later when I began experiencing the side effects of my soon-to-be diagnosed PTSD that I checked myself into The Menninger Clinic for a 30-day evaluation. It was my first of two stays there. Menninger did a full dedicated workup to come to a diagnosis. They studied each and every facet which could have been contributing to my current mental state. (Once you’ve read the book “Voices Carry” you will understand with more clarity what I’m talking about.) I met with psychiatrists- the best in their field, psychologists, social workers. I was given a battering ram of physical tests. They did MRI’s, sleep tests, questionnaires, a healthy diet, yoga classes, art classes, and most impressively- a genome test to see which medications worked with my physical makeup.

Turns out, SSRIs are completely ineffective with my brain chemistry. They gave me medications which actually began to work on my depression.

But not completely.

I had to get to the core of what was the cause of it all. That didn’t come until later. My brain just wasn’t ready to face head-on the childhood sexual trauma: yet.

If you are in that dark pit, and you don’t see a way out, don’t give up. There’s help for you out there, but it’s not an easy ride.

If you are experiencing any side effects of sexual trauma, there’s a number I have here for you to call. It’s the RAINN.org National Sexual Assault Hotline: 1-800-656-HOPE.

They are available to those in crisis 24/7. They can offer you support, referrals, and help you find a way out of the pit.

Soon, you can read about my journey from insanity and into the present. I will say, I am off all medications now, and a daily ride on my Peloton and a healthy diet is all I need to stave away the darkness. It took a lot of work, and uncomfortable digging. Opening boxes I had sealed off long ago, never intending to open them back up to examine.

Nothing good in life is easy, but it’s worth it.

Hang in there.

You are loved.