I started staying up more, lying on the family room couch at first, but at least I wasn’t in my room. It felt funny, but it also felt good, and that got the positive juices running. Then I started cleaning the house little by little. It didn’t take much to knock me down. But, I was doing it. Then, I began to slowly introduce regular food back into my diet, and I got stronger yet. My mind was getting more focused, and more resilient.
I started going to a reflexologist, and I have come so far since that day I first started ten months ago. My energy is so much higher now. I am handling all I used to, and a divorce! Court house romps are no big deal right now, and there have been several! I’m spending time with my kids, who are now 16, 19, and 21. My partner and I go for boat rides on the lake. We go shopping together, and I no longer have to stop mid aisle until the gray spots go away. That was always a fun experience, let me pass out in Wal-Mart! Now I just have to use their bathroom once in a while!
And we sit out on the front porch swing and appreciate every living thing in our view. Trees budding with greenery, others with pink blossoms, chipmunks scurrying to eat the bird seed, beautiful birds coming to feast after the winter. At fifty, I just mike make it in this life. I’ll continue my Reflexology, and my writing, and being with my family, and my home, and I hope to stay strong, and not to suffer in my suffering, since there’s always something to deal with. The light is never far from the dark, as the dark is never far from the light, so I have to learn to deal with both, in a balanced manner. At least, I have help. Between my partner and my kids, and my reflexologist and the few close friends I have, I just might be all right.
Manic Depression Isn’t Crying at a Sad Movie
By: Susan Thom (View Profile)
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Comments
I see myself in so much of what you have written-I have always known that I'm not alone-but this just makes it all so much more real. Thank you and congratulations on pulling yourself out of the deep dark hole!
Thank you for this. I spent my teenage years with my depressed mother sleeping her days away and arguing at me when I wanted to stay out a half an hour later at night. "No" was always followed with "because I said so" without further discussion until she would go back to sleep. As an adult, I'm not able to talk about the pain both my mother and I felt during these times with love and understanding that neither of us had during that tough time. But the irony is that I just lost my boyfriend, to perhaps, this very disease when he killed himself in January. I'm writing about it on DivineCaroline and am so thankful that we are on here writing about this while society, as a whole, still somewhat turns a blind eye.
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