Hmmmmm…..if only this meant my body was skinny, and not just one part of my brain.
Brain differences mark those with depression risk | Health | Reuters
It's a good morning
The sermon is done. Bible class is ready. The headache is under control. Rejoice! It’s Laetare.
-DMR
still fighting zoloft
I’m still figthing the zoloft headaches. The mornings are generally good, but afternoons my head just hurts and I really can’t do much of anything. Can’t read, can’t write, can’t study. I can listen a little. Hopefully this will regularize soon. It’s been two weeks now.
Some days…
Some days are good, and some days are not so good.
Today is a not so good day. It’s not so much that I’m mopey or excessively said. I just can’t get my mind to focus on anything. Frustrating, but this too shall pass. Yesterday was a great day. Maybe tomorrow will be too.
-DMR
Some days…
Some days are good, and some days are not so good.
Today is a not so good day. It’s not so much that I’m mopey or excessively said. I just can’t get my mind to focus on anything. Frustrating, but this too shall pass. Yesterday was a great day. Maybe tomorrow will be too.
-DMR
Nearly a week on Zoloft
It’s been nearly a week that I have been back on zoloft and clonapam. The side effects have been predictable: headaches, nausea and generally being tired. But overall I feel like my head is clearing up. I don’t expect to get the full benefit for another couple weeks.
Side effects always bother me. They just remind me that these drugs aren’t natural, and I worry that the side effects are worse than I really know about. But what I do know is that the alternative is worse. At least for me. It is in God’s hands. I am content.
-DMR
Light When All Is Dark
This is a good article in Christianity Today on depression. The author has also written a book entitled Darkness is My Only Companion, which I recommend. Check it out.
Light When All Is Dark | Christianity Today | A Magazine of Evangelical Conviction
Renaming Depression
As I am back on the pills as of this morning (and I have a Zoloft headache to prove it!) I am thinking a little more than usual about depression. Hard to imagine, given my obsessive nature.
I think one of this big problems in addressing depression in our culture is the name. Everyone assumes they know that depression=sad. What’s the big deal about being sad? Everyone gets sad sometimes. Get over it.
But if it had a name like Asberger’s Syndrome or Lou Gehrig’s Disease or Sickle cell anemia, then people would know they didn’t have a clue. They wouldn’t make presumptions about the nature of the illness. They wouldn’t presume to judge or lecture nearly as much about it. It might help.
So I’m taking a poll. What should we name depression? My first thought is something like Lincoln’s Syndrome or for you Lutherans out there, Luther’s Disease.
-DMR
A Sermonic Panic Attack
So this past Sunday was quite an adventure in my illness. I had really been struggling with the sermon. It wasn’t working. I tried writing it three times. Nada. I tried working through one of my old sermons (been doing too much of that lately). Nada. Finally I settled on a sermon that a friend wrote whom I can usually “lift” without too much trouble. But it just didn’t feel right. I knew this, but I had just ran outta time in preparation. So it goes.
The service is going fine, but the sermon is just dogging at me. I can’t get it out of my mind, and not in a good way. It didn’t feel right. As I thought through it, I didn’t know what I was going to say. There was nothing there. Just nada.
We come to the sermon hymn. Thankfully, it has seven verses so I have a little time to think. My mind is racing, but it isn’t going anywhere. I just have no idea what I’m going to say. The manuscript is up there, but it’s like it’s not even though. I finally get up to start reviewing it before I’m on.
I start the sermon. But I can’t read. I get through a sentence, and it’s like the words have no relationship to each other. It makes no sense. I try off the cuff a bit, but my brain has become a black hole, sucking all thought away into a mindless void. I am as we would say in Hebrew class, tohou wa vohou, a formless void.
This goes on for 5-7 minutes. I really have no idea how long. I have no idea what I said. I’d read a sentence, and then try to say something offhand about it, but it wouldn’t make any sense. I’m sweating, fearful that I have now been FOUND OUT for the fraud that I feel I am all the time.
Thankfully, it ended. The rest of the liturgy went fine, and bible class went surprisingly fine. But the whole experience left me shaken.
I think it was a panic attack, just unlike any I’ve experienced before.
Blech.
God willing, tonight will go better.
So how’s your week?
Signs its time to go back on medication
As I indicated in my last post, I will be going back on my anti-depressants very shortly. This is a good thing. I have sort of created a fortress around myself with the thought/dream/hope that I would never have to take medication again. Stupid. It’s just a pill. It’s not like I’m tying myself to a life of misery or whatever. Anyway, it is amazing how we can create these barriers to health and healing.
Here are a few of the signs that I have seen in myself that are telling me I need to do this. What do you think?
1. Longing for food and drink. There’s nothing magical about this. My brain wants stimulation. Something isn’t working. So it is sending out signals to my body: DO SOMETHING TO MAKE ME FEEL. So I have been eating like there will be a famine tomorrow, and drinking like it’s January 1920. I’ve always had a problem with moderation in food and drink, but this is really getting crazy. Irrational. Almost instinctive. I can sit outside my brain and look at my behavior and say STOP THAT, but I can’t. It’s really making me nuts.
2. Excessive computer time. I’m a techno-geek in the best of circumstances, but there comes a time when computer usage is no longer serving to actually work or even play, and moves into simple avoidance of human interaction. I’m well past that point right now.
3. The ongoing specter of dread. Dread is one of those words that in my mind best describes my depression. Dread for me means the perpetual feeling that disaster will strike at any instant, that it is inevitable, and that I might as well just accept it. It’s not true. I know it’s not true. But the feeling is always there, and is only getting worse.
4. Always tired. I just want to sleep. Always. I don’t want to get up. I don’t want to move. I certainly don’t want to talk to people, even my family. I. Just. Want. To. Sleep.
5. Avoidance of conflict. Pastors almost by definition have to deal with conflict. It comes with the territory. I, like most people, don’t like conflict. We all have to weigh the dislike of conflict with the need to actually resolve situations, even difficult ones. When I tip the scales toward being willing to put up with horrible circumstances rather than have a simple conversation, that’s a sign that things aren’t working right.
6. Prayer becomes more of a cross than usual. I envy pastors that seem to pray easily. They love it and rejoice in it. I want that. I really do. In normal circumstances, I have a relatively structured prayer life, thanks in part to our school. But when things are starting to go south for me mentally, I avoid prayer like it is talking to an axe murderer. I just don’t want to do it. Even though I know it is for my benefit. Even though I know that I will feel better afterwards. I just don’t. Blech.
Anyway, that’s a first crack at self-evaluation. What do you think of this list? What are your signs that things aren’t going well for you?