A Lingering Doubt
Date Thursday, March 28, 2024 - 05:59 PM PST
Topic Experiences


A number of months ago, I wondered when I would no longer be depressed.

Although I hadn't waited for a doctor to tell me so, I quit taking my medication quite a while ago. It started innocently enough; I was forgetting to take my pill, so it went from once daily to once every other day, to once every two days, to never. For the longest time, I thought just getting off the Kauffman would make me feel better, and while it was without a doubt the biggest factor, I have since come to realize that it took more than that. The medication helped. Therapy helped. Time helped.

I doubt I will ever feel proud of my military service, but I think I am finally coming to terms with what I went through and the bitterness surrounding my military experience is fading. I can't in good conscience, give a blanket endorsement of the military--particularly the officer corps--to a stranger. I don't expect to ever be able to do so, but I am less and less emotional about my inner response as time goes on. I feel sorry for people who fall for those commercials and/or what their recruiters tell them. All I ever say is that I hope the military treats them better than it did me. And I mean it.

What brought this on today was a program I heard on NPR about electro-convulsion therapy (ECT) for the treatment of depression. My treatment was not ECT, but some of the phrases jumped out at me and caused this bit of reflection. A woman was talking about her depressions being cyclic, and lasting for 4-5 months. She said something to the effect of, "four months is a long time to feel like that, like you're in a dark hole and you don't want to live." I wish it had only been four months for me. God, thinking about it now... I'm tearing up. I can't believe I lived through it. I hate what I went through. I hate that I know what it's like to be depressed. I never wanted to be able to relate to that. I never thought I would. Now I can... and I hate it. I feel so inadequate, both for my feelings over something that is technically over now, and my inability to describe said feelings with any other word but hate.

I wrote this out before I started typing, but I didn't manage to stick to what I wrote. I veered off when I remembered what that lady said.

I've been doing well lately; I haven't cut myself in 4 or 5 months. I thought about it a few times, but didn't act. Today, like those few self-injurious thoughts, triggered something. I'm not sure what. When it happens, a strange feeling washes over me. I am reminded of what I went through, and I feel as if it has marked me. That although I am well, I am not, nor will I ever be, the same person I was ever again.

In almost all things, I would choose knowledge over ignorance, but in this instance, I would prefer the latter.

This article comes from Shmeng
http://www.shmeng.com/

The URL for this story is:
http://www.shmeng.com/modules.php?op=modload&name=News&file=article&sid=823