My Disease

     My name is Amanda and I suffer from something called clinical depression.
     You might know someone who has had to deal with depression short term, take a few pills, have some counseling and move on with their lives. That's not me. I will have to take a pill everyday for the rest of my life to maintain any level of normalcy. Normally it is pretty well controlled by my medication and regular exercise, I can blend in with anyone else without people noticing how different I am.  But I am different.
     For me depression manifests mainly in the form of fatigue.  Even on my best days getting out of bed is a difficult task, I feel like I am running in sand and watching all of my friends, family, and co-workers blow past me on their well paved roadways.  On my worst days the sand becomes molasses; I cry when my alarm goes off and pray for help to get up in the morning.  Sometimes I slide into what I call a funk; a zombie like state where I am lost somewhere inside my disease.
     Over the years I have had to accept that I will never be what I think I should be.  I have had to dumb down my expectations for myself significantly. I need that self-love and understanding that comes from acknowledging my situation.  It's an awful thing.  Sure, I have all of my limbs, I am reasonably intelligent and somewhat capable. I was blessed with a few little gifts here and there to help me get through this life.  But my brain has a chemical imbalance that will always be with me.  It changes who I am.  It makes every day a fight.
     In the last day or so I have been sliding into one of those funks that I mentioned earlier.  They usually last only a few days, but it can seem like forever.  I cannot face the simplest tasks, like making dinner for instance, or washing the dishes.  You might as well ask me to climb Mount Everest.  I simply cannot do it.  Because my depression doesn't manifest that way, I don't feel sad, although I am more easily discouraged and my feelings are significantly more tender than normal.  My kids, at whom I rarely yell, are always pushing the limits of my patience. My mother can tell at the first sound of my voice that something is wrong, even before I know sometimes.  She wants me to go get some short term counseling and my husband wants to know if I am taking my medication.   It's difficult to accept that even though you are doing everything in your power, it's not enough.    
     Maybe you know someone in your own life who deals with clinical depression.  Maybe it's you.  Let me share a few things that I know for sure about this disease.  It's one of those diseases that can't be seen, but hurts anyway. Being depressed is not the same thing as being crazy.  No matter how strong your will is, you cannot out-will it.  It is not something that you can choose.  Would you choose cancer?  No, and you wouldn't choose depression either.  Having to take a pill every day does not make you weak, in fact it may just make you stronger.  Be kind.  A depressed person does not function on the same level as everyone else.  When you see that pile of unwashed dishes in the sink, do not judge.  Washing them just might be an insurmountable task.  Stop and think before you speak or act.  Be careful what thoughts you are going to take from the situation.  And ask yourself, am I planning to climb Mount Everest today?