"Feeling Cheated" Depression Stories - Ana II

            More than anything, I hated feeling cheated. I don’t know which came first, diabetes or depression but I have since learned they are interrelated. I remember feeling cheated and deceived--cheated because I had so much living to do and deceived because I had lived a positive lifestyle, made sensible food choices and chose responsible moral behavior (so I believed at the time) and now this! I asked, “Why me?” I rolled the words over my tongue—it didn’t flow. In fact, it felt almost like this label belonged to someone. I  internalized the diagnosis as a negative, rather than a positive. 

          I felt cursed but never thought to ask, “Why not me? Who else is a better candidate for diabetes? Who else can weather the stress? Clearly, I didn’t know myself. In life, I had weathered many storms, but I hadn't managed them. They had managed me. Stress was among those things I had mismanaged.  My life began with stress, continued with stress through middle school, high school and college. At home and on the job, I faced stress on a daily basis. With such high levels of stress since childhood and a family history of diabetes, I was a disaster looking for a place to happen. One traumatic event in 2001 changed my life forever.

             I  didn't like imperfection, and with the diagnosis of diabetes, I was saddened by how imperfect I was. In fact, I wondered how I could live a normal life ever again. I decided to sabotage my health—eating and drinking everything imaginable. That way, I could choose which way to die. Kidney failure was my choice because I knew and know to this day, I would never consent to dialysis. Sometimes, I asked myself, “Who would want to know someone with this dreadful, debilitating disease?” My diabetes was never well-controlled, probably because I had given up on living a normal life. With so much negativity around me—personal relationships,, workplace stress and harassment, and challenges of  single-parenting, I didn’t want to think about the future—everything looked bleak.

          Incessant negativity became my constant companion. Sometimes, I could hear a rational voice saying, “You’re so negative, you’re going to die of a heart attack or stroke,” but the negative thoughts poured in to reassure me that I was worthless, anyway, so why did it matter. Diabetes was the end of the world, or so I thought. But when the World Trade Center was attacked, diabetes was the least of my problems. I suffered post-traumatic-stress disorder (PTSD). Worse, I didn't know the symptoms and failed to get a proper diagnosis.

            I felt like a zombie, lost in a swirl of negative thoughts and sadness. Although I managed to see a doctor about my heightened levels of stress and anxiety, my concerns were dismissed. I was given a prescription and told to visit the doctor in six months. I did not. Eventually, negative thoughts poured into my head every second of the day.  I tried to put the thoughts into perspective, tried to make them go away, but they grew louder and more incessant. It seemed that the entire universe had fallen on my shoulders and I couldn’t see beyond the dark clouds. I could feel a water-logged horizon wrapped around my shoulders like a dripping wet shawl, weighing me down until I felt exhausted, but I couldn’t wish them away.

          I cried for months and sometimes entertained ways to die. Car accident? Gunshot to the head? Sleeping pills. I didn’t own a gun and didn’t plan to buy one. I didn’t have a stash of sleeping pills. I pondered the thought of dying and frequently asked myself, “What if I botched the job?” What if I became a burden on family, my body mangled and my mind filled with regret? Sometimes, the voice of reason can be found in the little things, like the voice of a child asking the question,“Mama, can you sign this permission slip?” I remember thinking that children are such saboteurs when it comes to interrupting negative thoughts. But I hadn't considered, they might also be saviors.

        Children: I’ll always appreciate their being here. Looking back, I can put things in perspective enough to analyze why children really are saviors. In spite of the“terrible two’s” and the “terrible teens,” children connect us to past, present, and future. They provide fond memories from the past to hold onto when the going gets rough or when we feel sadness. In the present, they prevent continuous self-absorption, which becomes a preference for those who become depressed. Children provide reasons to look toward the future, one day at a time as the progress through life. Looking at the faces of children, pets, or someone whose life depends on us, we realize that we are not alone and our actions have consequences. 

         Knowing that our choice will impact others, we usually find a way to survive. Children, pets, or ailing parents cause us to stop, look and listen, and in so doing, they stave off negative thoughts if only for a moment in time. Having will-power to stay alive for 24-hours is the first step toward changing negative patterns of thought that have derailed us. Sometimes, it's a struggle to live one more day, but taking life one moment at a time makes a difference.  Holding on to life begins with searching for the little things that create positive memories,  and reflecting on the happiness felt during those moments. Holding onto life also means focusing on family, close friends, or animals and asking, How will they be affected by my choice?

         Having responsibility for someone else can become the only reason for being here on planet earth.  Not everyone has a family to keep them centered, but some of us have pets. Those of us who do not have a pet can adopt one. Taking care of others forces us out of the pattern of negative thinking that can take over the brain. While responding to the self-centered demands of loved ones, it's difficult to entertain negative thoughts. With all of the talking, crying, complaining, or barking to get specific needs met, they force us to focus on them. Then we must make a choice: respond to their wants and needs or have our negative thinking process interrupted repeatedly. 

        Depressed people need help but don't know it. Not only does staying alive for 24 hours provide an opportunity to talk to someone about symptoms and feelings, it also provides an opportunity to make positive changes. Because depression requires some type of intervention, we cannot continue with "business as usual." We must make changes in our thoughts and behaviors, but this can only happen if we're around to make the phone call.  Being alive has many advantages, but the greatest advantage is, it's the first step toward making positive changes in our lives. 

          What if the life we've been living all of this time could be different?  What if there were ways to stop negative thoughts and feelings? What I learned from PTSD and depression is this: Life is beautiful and life is change, best lived one day at a time. Very few things are perfect and very few things signal the end of existence, so learning to go with the flow produces less stress. 

          Change is necessary and usually, it's a good thing. This I learned from depression. Now, when I think of the stress that has defined my life, I realize I needed a change. PTSD and depression forced me to make a change and for that, I feel fortunate. I find it hard to believe I have grown from incessant negative thoughts and feeling cheated in life to feeling grateful for untreated PTSD which led to the onset of depression and forced me to make changes in my life.