Tobia
Aug 13, 2014 - 03:11am PT
I think about Juan occasionally, and the other people known to have lost their struggle with the black dog. I wrote Juan several emails when he was expressing his struggles on this thread. I don't know if he ever read them or got them. He never responded. I think of him and his desperation often.
I keep fighting, it keeps fighting and only time will tell who will finally overcome. It may end up being a draw.
There are a lot of opinions expressed here, some by professionals who treat depression by teaching coping skills and/or prescribing medicine to offset the disease or both. There are other opinions of speculation about the disease and some of those seem totally senseless.
As I stated up thread, I have been wrestling with this disease since I was born. Some of my earliest memories are dark. I can remember feeling all alone in a family of 9, in a kindergarten class of 25, in my bed late at night with two of my brothers sleeping beside me.
I have been categorized as having Borderline Personality Disorder (I interpret that as bordering on having a personality because of my extreme low self-esteem, total lack of self confidence and social grace). I also have three types of anxiety disorders, the Generalized Anxiety, Panic and Social types.
There seems to be two causative factors that allow the black dog to control my mind. Sometimes I wake up with him controlling my mind and then there are circumstances that seem to trigger his attack. I have been learning methods of resisting the latter of these two causes and have had some success.
The former, there is no control. It just happens. I have no more control over these attacks than I do the weather. I try to fight back, to get out of bed and exercise, work or engage other people; but it never works. I finally give up and just ride it out. It may last a day, other times a week or so.
In the past I was treated for Bipolar; but that was a long time ago, some 36 years, (when it was labeled manic depression). I never thought much of that because I rarely hit the manic stage that is common to people who suffer this disorder.
The TMS treatment I underwent helped tremendously in some ways; but not so much in other ways. Again there is no magic cure.
http://www.supertopo.com/climbing/thread.php?topic_id=2220943&msg=2220943#msg2220943
I have had one booster round since the initial program; but I can't afford another round and am not sure if I would benefit.
In the last 3 months I have had serious lows, the extreme ones where I contemplate death as the only solution. The pain is just overbearing, there is no hope and my Christian faith seems to wain. The only thing that stops me from following through are my two dogs and deciding how to do it. I also pray that the pain will end and it usually does; although during these episodes, I don't have any memory of not suffering the crippling effects, happiness is neither remembered and unimaginable.
Physical pain bears no resemblance to mental pain. I can and do endure physical pain, and in some veins I thrive on it; as in endurance sports. Mental pain has no bounds, no threshold and seemingly has the ability to cripple all other strengths. This is especially pertinent when considering that there seems no underlying cause of the anguish; such as the loss of a loved one, financial distress, a broken romance or any kind of assorted disappointments that are experienced in life.
My therapist discontinued my treatments because she had left the hospital where I started cognitive therapy with her. She left due to the corporate setting of a mental hospital to set up shop in a smaller group where she was less restricted. I was seeing her there; but she said that she was recommending me to another group because my suicidal tendencies worried her and caused her anxiety. The anxiety was her fear that I might follow through with my obsession with death and that she would feel responsible (not liable) and because she no longer worked in a hospital setting where she could get immediate feedback from the M.D.'s and other staff, she was not comfortable treating me.
That was a serious blow to my recovery, I had grown very comfortable expressing my thoughts, problems and fears to her. I felt like I was being abandoned, given up on. I felt just like I did when my wife left in the middle of the night, because, I believe she could not deal with the dog.
The fact of the matter is that her concerns were real. I have since met with her and she explained her concerns and the foundations of her decision. At the time of that visit, I was not depressed and it made sense to me. I felt guilty for causing her that much anguish.
I haven't started therapy with the recommended group she provided as I have a history with them. I spent about 5 years in the'90s with a therapist there, 2-3 times a week. They now charge $165/hour. They won't settle for the 80% medicare pays. So it is a useless proposition.
I don't think I will start over again, as it is very difficult to establish a level of trust with a therapist.
I have been "up" for four weeks now. I have riding my bike, socializing a little and taking care of the business of life, such as addressing financial problems, maintaining my property and dealing with issues that usually get brushed aside. It is hard to imagine what the black dog days or like when I feel this way.
The trouble with being up is I know I will sooner or late wake up with the dog on my back. It is inevitable; as involuntary as my heartbeat.
I take medicine for anxiety and a low voltage sleeping aid. I get 5 hours of sleep instead of two now. That in itself if is makes life worth living. Sleep is necessary to feel human.
Here is a link to a short video that someone emailed me today, because I have been using the term "black dog" every since I read that Winston Churchill used it to describe his struggle with depression.
It doesn't express the exact magnitude of my struggle, nor some other factors; but I believe it will show people who don't understand depression or feel like they are alone in their struggle the realities.
I don't think I will ever be cured, and I pray (today) that he never wins. When he is on me, I pray for death. I don't run away from it, I just grow weary of the struggle. Obviously part of my own therapy is write or talk about it, not just for my benefit; but for others who don't know the dog is on their heels.
One last thing, for the non-believers or people who are not Christian or a follower of some other faith, you are jeopardizing someone's hope that they can cope with this disease. Keep the negative vibes to yourself, what do you gain by discouraging someone from believing when they are struggling with surviving? In essence you are contributing to their demise. I was an atheist until I had given up all hope and had my 9mm at my temple, trying to find a reason not to off myself, the pain was too much to bear. If it wasn't for divine intervention I would be dead. You don't have to accept that as real; but I do because I experienced it. It is faith that props me up. So please don't present arguments about someone's personal believe when the topic of depression is at hand. Save it for another thread.
Well enough, I didn't set out to write as much as I did, I just wanted to post the video.
http://www.upworthy.com/what-is-depression-let-this-animation-with-a-dog-shed-light-on-it?c=ufb4
Let us know!