This post may contain affiliate links. Please see my disclosure policy for more information.
This is not an easy subject to write about, and the words are not crowding my conscious as they did in yesterday’s post. With that one, the post rattled around in my brain until I set it free in the pages of my journal.
It happens sometimes, but it isn’t happening now.
Nonetheless, I want to write this. I believe that someone needs to read it.
I hope it isn’t you, but it might be.
I have struggled with depression on and off for the last 15 years. I know the dull ache of surrounded by bodies and yet all alone, of nothing will ever be interesting again, of just too tired to go on.
At first, I cried. I couldn’t stop crying. There was stress. I was student teaching; my cooperating teacher was difficult. My uncle died, and I couldn’t cope.
My feelings were reasonable.
And then they weren’t reasonable any more.
My doctor put me on antidepressants. She recommended I see a therapist.
Instead, I did my own therapy at home. Craft therapy. Art therapy. I worked on my feelings, and I got better.
Then I got worse again.
I could copy and paste a few times and describe 12 years of my life: I got better, and I got worse again. I went on medicine; I went off medicine. I had stress; I cracked.
I’ve talked to quite a few people who suffer from depression. Our lives are different. Our situations are different. Our symptoms are different.
Our summaries are the same: We get better. We get worse.
We go through a lot of heartache. Our families worry. Our friends worry.
Worry doesn’t help.
Amanda from The Pelsers wrote an ebook called Finding Joy in Depression. It’s based on her own experiences, how she got help, how she manages her depression, how she goes on with her life.
It’s not about a cure. There isn’t one.
Finding Joy in Depression won’t fix you.
If you (or a loved one) is stumbling through extreme sadness or depression, Finding Joy in Depression might be the boost you need to steer yourself toward recovery.
I hope it is.
There is hope for you.
© 2012, Tara Ziegmont. All rights reserved.