Depression

Does it seem odd that in the middle of the summer, I get something like seasonal affective disorder? At this time last year, I was in the middle of complete insanity. We had invited an unemployed friend to live with us in December 2008, which always sounds like a benevolent thing to do, in theory. Turns out, he was a manic homebody. I mean, he was home all the time. And manic much of the time. By July 2009, after 7 months of this very messy situation, I was becoming completely unspooled. My Protestant upbringing didn't allow for the possibility that we could have just asked him to find somewhere else. I truly thought we could work it out, that I needed to be more accommodating, more patient. In other words, change my entire personality. We might have been able to save a long-term friendship. Living together is often the worst thing to do to a relationship.

My kids are older now. Life is calmer now, quieter. And yet, I can barely function these days. Maybe the fact that I'm upright now, writing, not crying under the covers, means that I'm getting better. My depression manifests as an overwhelming sense of irritability. I yell and scream and cry. I hyperventilate over the most mundane aspects of daily life. I ignore my wife and kids, stop paying attention to friendships, forget people's names, appointments. My brain goes into safe mode. My body feels pain everywhere.

I am not medicated for my depression. I don't know why it doesn't seem like the solution at this point. When it lifts, I forget about it, learn to find my flow again. It's been many years when suicide was on the table for me. Usually I can exercise enough to produce the appropriate mood enhancers. I listen to music. I laugh a lot. Maybe it's not enough. It's something I'm always open to reevaluating. But right now, I'm just trying to ride this leaky boat until I hit the shore.