Damn I hate being Depressed

Why does this not surprise me...

2007-01-05T20:08:00.000-08:00

Army Asks Dead to Sign up for Another Hitch

WASHINGTON (AP) -- The Army said Friday it would apologize to the families of about 275 officers killed or wounded in action who were mistakenly sent letters urging them to return to active duty.
The letters were sent a few days after Christmas to more than 5,100 Army officers who had recently left the service. Included were letters to about 75 officers killed in action and about 200 wounded in action.
"Army personnel officials are contacting those officers' families now to personally apologize for erroneously sending the letters," the Army said in a brief news release issued Friday night.
The Army did not say how or when the mistake was discovered. It said the database normally used for such correspondence with former officers had been "thoroughly reviewed" to remove the names of wounded or dead soldiers.
"But an earlier list was used inadvertently for the December mailings," the Army statement said, adding that the Army is apologizing to those officers and families affected and "regrets any confusion."

"There's Strong and then there's Army Strong"...

2006-12-29T07:18:00.000-08:00

“There’s Strong and then there's Army Strong”…this is the latest recruiting campaign by the US Army…I guessed it replaced the “Army of One” campaign…

Anyway, in light of my situation and experience with the military…I am left to wonder how the military, in their infinite wisdom, defines “Army Strong”

The reason for my question is that the Army is wanting/ordering me to report for active duty…as an Officer no less…

The backdrop of this story (or more accurately the miserable ordeal with military) is that I accepted a military scholarship when I went to medical school back in 2001…well, since leaving medical school in 2003 I have been dealing with chronic depression that has progressed to the point where I am not really able to care for myself. It got so bad that back in May of this year I was faced with the decision of either going to live on the street or live with my parents (it really was a tough decision as I have huge issues with my parents and lay a large part of the blame with my father as to why I am no longer in medical school...he promised to help me financially with medical school and then withdrew his promise the first week I moved down to school...hence the the applying for and accepting the military scholarship...but by then the psychological damage was done...thanks Dad!!!).

So, here I am living with my parents…I have only left the house once since June 2006…I have maybe bathed three times…I am simply unable to function out in society...

And since leaving medical school I have asked (and then begged) the military for help…only to be told that I am caught in the “beuracracy” and that they could not do anything for me as I was not eligible to access the military health care system…I even told them I was suicidal and all I was told in response was to "hang in there"...and now they want me to report for active duty??????

Over the last several years I have been admitted to hospital psychiatric units twice…once for attempted suicide and then for suicidal ideations…in addition I have been in and out of treatment for morbid depression…and now the military wants me to serve active duty???

I have tried to communicate all this to the Army but my words fall on deaf ears…

One thing I have learned about the US Military…is that it is epitome of bureaucracy in that people are unable or unwilling to think for themselves. The soldiers (officers and enlisted alike) are not encouraged to act or think for themselves if it contradicts the Standard Operating Procedures...even if it is contrary to logic and common sense.

The military is going to do what they want with me…my hope is that they put me in prison and I can live out the rest of my life in an institution and never have to worry about being able or not able to function in society ever again...

Back to my original question...I guess the Army defines the "Army Strong" as...those who are agoraphobic, incapacitated by obsessive-compulsive behavior, those with ADD/ADHD, those who often fantisizes about death and suicide and those who are chronically and morbidly depressed...and for those who are fornunate enough to have all those conditions...let's make them the Officers as they are clearly fit to lead the fine young men and women of the United States Army???

A Celebrity Comes Out About Her Personal Dealings with Mental Health...

2006-07-11T05:12:00.000-07:00

NEW YORK (AP) -- Ashley Judd says she spent 47 days in a Texas treatment facility for depression and other emotional problems, in an interview in Glamour magazine.

"I needed help," the 38-year-old actress tells the magazine in its August issue. "I was in so much pain."
Judd, the daughter of country music star Naomi Judd, says she entered the Shades of Hope Treatment Center in Buffalo Gap in February for "codependence in my relationships; depression, blaming, raging, numbing, denying and minimizing my feelings."
"But because my addictions were behavioral, not chemical, I wouldn't have known to seek treatment. At Shades of Hope, my behaviors were treated like addictions. And those behaviors were killing me spiritually, the same as someone who is sitting on a corner with a bottle in a brown paper bag."
Judd says she was visiting her sister, singer Wynonna Judd, who was being treated for food addictions.
"When (the counselors) approached me about treatment, they said, 'No one ever does an intervention on people like you. You look too good; you're too smart and together. But you (and Wynonna) come from the same family -- so you come from the same wound.' No one had ever validated my pain before. It was so profound," she says.
Judd says her childhood was a time of "complete and total chaos." She attended 13 schools in 12 years and lived alternately with her mother, grandmother and father.
As a result, Judd says, she became "a hypervigilant child," striving to be perfect.
"A wonderful pastor once told me, 'Perfectionism is the highest order of self-abuse,"' she tells the magazine. "So now I try to remind myself that if I engage in perfectionism, I am abusing myself. Period."
Judd says her relationships, including her marriage to race-car driver Dario Franchitti, have improved.
"It's so simple really: I was unhappy and now I'm happy," she says. "Now, even when I'm having a rough day, it's better than my best day before treatment."
Judd starred in 2002's "Frida" and 2004's "De-Lovely." Her upcoming films include "Bug," directed by William Friedkin and co-starring Harry Connick Jr.

Sabbatical...

2006-03-01T11:58:00.000-08:00

I am going to take an indefinite leave from this blogsite as I need to focus all of my attention on myself as I attempt to reclaim my life and piece together any remnants of self-worth that remains.

I wish you all well and much success with your personal and professional goals.

-James

100 Things about Me

2006-02-18T14:05:00.000-08:00

I have never really been one to do the "100 Things about Me" or the "Tagged Thing" but seeing how I am more than likely going to be dead in the next few days, I thought I might do a more personal post so you could know more about me than just the depression that I have been writing about.

I have started the list and hopefully will have a chance to finish it.

1. I am anal retentive as hell
2. I am overly analytical
3. I love European Cars…Audi being my favorite
4. I love Le Mans style auto racing
5. I admire intelligence & beauty
6. I am insecure…from issues going back to my childhood and how I was raised
7. I love/admire/respect my Grandparents…they have been gone for over 2 years now
8. I was a combat medic in the Ohio Army National Guard
9. I still love Hair Metal…Poison, Warrant, White Lion and Motley Crue being some of my favorites
10. I love to cook and grill
11. I have a weakness for Williams-Sonoma
12. I love All-Clad cookware
13. I love Wusthof cutlery
14. I prefer micro-brewed beer to wine, but can appreciate a good wine with a good meal
15. I use hair products…American Crew...Forming Cream for all over and Fiber to make my hair stand up in the front
16. I am not gay...I am very heterosexual...but the question has come up more than a few times over the years
17. I enjoy a good cigar
18. I consider myself to be a Fiscal Republican/Social Democrat (I am registerd as a Republican)
19. I graduated from college with Honors
20. I was the Founding President of a Pre-Professional Fraternity in college
21. I don’t know how I graduated high school…honestly, I only remember studying for one exam during my entire time in high school…and the situation was that my History teacher told me that I needed to pass the final exam in order to pass the class and thus graduate…so, I studied with a good friend and a really attractive cheerleader…I remember thinking to myself, as we were studying at her house, that perhaps I had really missed out on something during high school…this “studying thing” was kinda’ neat.
22. I love romantic comedies
23. When Harry Met Sally is the standard by which all romantic comedies are to be judged...some of my other favorites are A Lot Like Love, Kissing a Fool and Before Sunset
24. My high school sweetheart's name was Jenny…she went to a Christian school and I was a product of the public school system.
25. “The one I let get away” is now married with a child...she went to a Catholic High School.
26. We dated for 2 years, lived together for 3 more years, broke up when we were 25 and were best friends for 4 years (our friends joked that we were like Will and Grace and I always felt the need to interject “but I am not gay”) then she met her fiance' and our friendship ended
27. I love to watch tennis…I came of age during the Sampras, Agassi, Courier, Chang era.
28. I had a big crush on Steffi Graff…I hold no ill will towards Andre since he stole my girl
29. I am a coffee snob…Starbucks French Roast being my favorite
30. I drink my coffee strong and black
31. A perfect Saturday morning for me is to be sitting in a coffee house on a sunny, cool, crisp fall morning reading and people watching…and of course enjoying a good cup of joe.
32. I first started drinking coffee during Army Basic Training, at Fort Knox, only because it offered warmth.
33. My favorite city is Columbus, Ohio
34. Columbus has a surprising number of coffee houses…Cup-O-Joe and Stauf’s being two of my favorites
35. One of the biggest mistakes of my life, and without going into too much detail, was leaving Columbus…I moved because of medical school...funny how the seemingly benign act of relocation can drastically alter one’s fate...the whole Butterfly Effect thing
36. I am neurotic to the core
37. In my life, I have pushed away too many attractive women and really good people because I was too focused on myself and my career…and now I don’t have my career or those great relationships.
38. My pride has gotten in the way too many times.
39. My first car was a ‘69 Camero
40. My first job was working at Wendy’s (Fast-food Hamburgers) during high school…I had some great times and have some great memories from that job...Jenny (my highschool sweetheart) also worked there.
41. I actually began working at Wendy’s because my father said I had to “get a job.” The reason being is because I was expelled from school during my sophomore year.
42. During college I worked as a patient care technician on an orthopedic unit…again, some great times and memories…in fact, I think this was one of the happiest periods of my life.
43. I thought I would be so much further along at this point in my life.
44. I wear glasses.
45. It took me almost 6 months before I found the perfect pair of eyeglasses
46. I almost got a tattoo once…this was right after high school and the situation was a friend and myself had been drinking and decided that we were going to get one but when we went to the tattoo parlor they were closed...if they weren't, I would be walking around with either a rose on my shoulder or barberd wire around my bicep.
47. My two cousins are like my brothers…I love them very much.
48. I have never been married nor do I have any children...this is by choice
49. I like going to the movies by myself
50. I often look at other people/total strangers and idealize their lives…you know…that person has a great career and family and is happy and enjoying their lives…blah, blah, blah
51. I have worked as a volunteer for an AIDS Foundation and in an Emergency Room
52. I won several bodybuilding competitions as a teenager, held one title and even qualified for Nationals.
53. I was a personal trainer
54. I always wanted to get into photography (black and white) of the human form/nudes
55. My favorite photographer is Gabriele Rigon, he is incredible...his work can be found at www.gabrielerigon.it
55. I have always wanted to learn to play the guitar
56. I like to visit museums
57. I tried to pick up the game of golf…it was too slow and frustrating…I much prefer tennis.
58. I love to grocery shop at Whole Foods and open air markets.
59. I fear that I am going to spend the rest of my life “always searching” and being “unfulfilled.”
60. In high school I had aspirations to be an architect, when I first started college I thought I wanted to be a physical therapist, I went on to medical school to be a doctor, but now I am lost.
61. I have OCD
62. I have ADD
63.I have been dealing with depression for most of my adult life but only over the last three years has it become debilitating.
64. I fear and welcome death
65. I miss my idealism
66. On two seperate instances I have "motivated" or been a "major infuleuce" for people to pursue a higher education...in one instance it was a friend, who was so inspired about my passion to go to medical school, she decided to go to law school and the other was a friend who I met in medical school and was thinking of dropping-out but she decided to stay...now one is a Lawyer and the other is a Doctor and I am screwed!
67. I really hate being this bitter person that I have become
68. My favorite ice cream is Hagen Dazs vanilla...with Hersheys chocolate syrup
69. I am a Diet Coke person
71. I have on two separate occasions in my life picked up a homeless person who was sitting on the side of the road with a cardboard sign asking for help…on each occasion I took them to a fast food place and told them to order whatever they wanted. They were both very thankful…one guy was a Vietnam Vet and he sung me a song he wrote…it was quite good…the other guy told me he had lost his wife and his “life just fell apart.” I returned them each to the spot where I had picked them up.
72. I fear that I may be homeless one day
73. I am the world's worst speller
74. I am materialistic
75. My favorite meal is breakfast...I especially love overly-indulgent, lazy Sunday breakfasts...I prefer french toast to pancakes...sausage links to patties...and the syrup must be pure maple syrup
76. I hate OJ from concentrate
77. I enjoy cleaning and find it to be very therapeutic...the whole immediate gratification thing
77. I love live jazz
78. I gave the eulogy at my Grandfather's funeral
79. I have always wanted to drive on the Autobahn
80.

Either or...continued

2006-02-16T11:51:00.000-08:00

After the third day of being in the adult day care…I had had enough and decided that I was going to end my miserable existence that day as I just couldn't take it anymore. So, on the way home I stopped by the liquor store to purchase some “liquid courage” and a nice cigar. That was the plan…what wasn’t the plan, however, was for my friend to be home early from her clinical rotation…she wasn’t due back for another 4 hours…4 hours being plenty of time for me to get my drink on and do the deed. In light of this, for whatever reason my mind was still made up…I think because I had been pondering this for two weeks and since I had finally made “the mental commitment” that this was it, there was no turning back. When I walked in she was was downstairs napping.

My first mistake was drinking (no make that guzzling) Jake Daniels when I had not really had much to eat for several days…remember this was to be my “liquid courage” and I guess I figured the more I drank the more “courage”…that or I was scared shitless and didn’t want to be cognizant of the event.

Well, sometime during my "getting my drink on", my friend woke up and came upstairs. I tried to play it off real casual and all…but I don’t think I did a good job as I was already getting pretty intoxicated by this point. The sequence of events after that are a bit blurry but it went a little something like this…I told her that I loved her (platonically, she is like my sister) and that I appreciated everything she had done for me, and I wished her much success and happiness, which is something one wouldn't normally do in a conversation so I am sure she was thinking something’s up…at another point I was standing on the hood of my car (in the rain) urging her not to go as she was pulling out of the driveway in her car…I guess she had never seen me in that condition and it freaked her out.

Home alone, I went downstairs, sat on the couch in front of the fireplace and loaded the gun. I set the gun on the table as I continued to pour myself shots of whiskey. I remember sitting there looking out the window into the dripping, cold,wet, overcast day thinking that it was a rather poetic setting for such a melancholic deed.

Well, my friend returned sometime thereafter to find me passed out on the couch with a bottle of Jack Daniels, that was now 2/3rds full, and the loaded gun on the coffee table in front of me. Obvoiusly alarmed, she called the IOP people who in turn called the police…the next thing I know I am in the back of an ambulance going to the Emergency Room to be admitted to the psych unit...the psych unit being another interesting story, in and of itself, for a later post.

Now my origianl point about the military...I know that was a long build-up but I promise it will come full cicle.

Shortly, after the psych unit experience, I was like I can't wait forever, so I said to hell with the military and moved down to Florida to pursue another opportunity that had presented itself.

So, I have not heard from the military over the last 2 ½ years but only once to inform me of the money that I owe them…so I am thinking, I’ll pay back the money over time and that is that and my obligation to the military will be fullfilled.

Well, several months ago I contacted the National Guard to see what opportunities were available on a part-time basis. After having to track my own records down, I was informed that I am still listed as Active Duty and am currently AWOL (absent without leave) as I was to have reported for duty back in April of 2005 and in fact, these were my second set of orders that they had issued because I did not report to my first assignment in Septermber of 2004. I never received either of those orders. Apparently, they sent them to an address that I haven’t had in 5 years but somehow they were able to send the bill for monies owed to the correct Florida address...ah bureaucracy at it's finest.

So, at this point I am like, ok, I am not getting anything really going in the civilian world and going active duty might not be such a bad thing…so they begin processing my paperwork to cut my orders and was told to be ready to go by Jan 11, 2006. Jan 11th came and went and no orders. Now I am being told, low and behold…it is being held up by a signature and they can’t tell me when it will be signed…"it could come back with a signature tomorrow or it could be several months down the road.” I am like are you fucking kidding me as I don't want to go down that road again.

It's like I am living a twisted version of Groundhog Day.

Obsessive-Compulsive Valentines

2006-02-14T09:01:00.000-08:00

By Jenny Traig
- - - -
Sweetheart, I've got you under my skin. I'll wash and wash, but you'll never come out.
- - - -
Roses are red, violets are blue. Sugar is sweet, and I think I left the iron on.
- - - -
I'm crazy for you! Get it?
- - - -
BE MINE. Wait. That has six letters. Six letters is so unlucky. It's like YOU DIE. That's exactly what it's like. Now you're going to die and it's all my fault.
- - - -
Honey, I'm hot for you! It's like a fever. Do you think it's viral meningitis? I bet it is. I touched the light switch and who knows what germs were on there. Then I thought about you, and infected you—it's a viral brain infection, so of course it's transmitted through brain waves, that makes perfect sense. We should probably just drive to the hospital right now.
- - - -
You're all I think about. Literally!
- - - -
You and me, sitting in a tree—oh, wait, that doesn't sound very safe, does it? Let's say we're sitting on a couch instead. Huh. I wonder who sat on this couch before us. Maybe we should put some plastic wrap down. Yeah, I think we'd better. Is this a new box of plastic wrap, or has it been opened for a while? Are you sure? OK. OK. Let's just say it's new and move on. So we're sitting on a couch, K-I-S-S-I-N-G. Except that I kind of feel this tingle on my lip? Like I might be getting a cold sore? Maybe we should just forget the whole thing.
- - - -
It's hard to tell, what with all the SSRIs in my bloodstream, but I think I feel something for you.
- - - -
I'd touch you without gloves. If I could, I mean.
- - - -
I love you. Wait. That didn't feel right. Let me try it again. I love you. Don't think about disease. Don't think about disease. Don't think about disease. I love you. There.

Either or...

2006-02-13T11:00:00.000-08:00

Either the military will get me or the alcohol, which ever comes first...

OK, here is my situation…but I need to give you some background information first. When I was in medical school (over 2 years ago) I was on a military scholarship. Well, when I first left medical school (released from the program being more acurrate) in June, I was an absolute mess and pretty much bed ridden for the next 6 months…after about 4 months I was finally able to function enough to interrupt my routine of 20 hours of sleep per day to attempt to contact the military about repaying my obligation through active duty service (I figured the structured nature of the military might be a good kick in the ass to get me going again)…well, apparently, I fell into some kind of “weird void” as no one was taking responsibility for me and I was getting passed around from one office to the next faster than a water-bong at a Grateful Dead concert…this went on for at least a week and a half (the military not being a model for efficiency) before I found someone who had a sympathetic ear and went out of his way to put me in contact with the “correct office.”

So, after being in contact with the correct office/officer and after several more weeks, the last hold up in getting into the military was that they were waiting for a signature before they could cut my orders...and unfortunately they could not give me a time frame as to when that might happen...all I could get was "it could come back with a signature tomorrow or it could be several months down the road." As several weeks turned into months my patience was gettng short and depression was getting worse…and at this point I did not have a job or health insurance (my student health insurance stopped when I left the medical program). So, realizing that I would need some mental health care to deal with "everything," I asked the "military" if there was any assistance available for me…well, again, I fell into that “weird void” of “being in the military but not necessarily being in the military,” so I was told that there was nothing they could do until my paperwork got the appropriate signature and my orders were cut. I even went as far as saying that I really needed to speak to someone rather desperately...whether it was a psychiatrist, a counselor, a therapist or even a chaplan...it really didn't matter, but whoever it was going to be I needed it soon rather than later, or the orders might be a moot point…I think he understood what I was saying…but again, he apologized and said there was nothing they could do for me.

So, by this point we are into January and I am nearing the end of my patience. Sensing my frustration and desperation, my close friend, who I was staying with at the time, suggested an Intensive Outpatient Group (IOP)…and I thought that it was actually a good idea, in spite of it being a "public assistance type of program." What I wasn’t thinking or expecting, however, was to be doing art therapy on the first day…which pretty much consisted of construction paper and watercolor paints…very reminiscent of my childhood memories…like from 3rd grade!! Needless to say, I wasn’t really into it and politely declined the offer…I think my refusal to participate got me the label of “difficult patient” from day one. In light of this, I did proceed to go back the next few days and I just got the feeling like I was at an adult day care, with the obvious twist of mental health just to keep things interesting. But, not interesting enough for me.

SIDEBAR: A few weeks prior to starting the IOP program, knowing that I was nearing the end of my rope, I went out and bought a .45 Caliber handgun...and everyday for next two weeks I would wake up with the intent that that would be the last. Contrary to what you might think, it's actually a very difficult thing to place a gun to your head with the intention of pulling the trigger.

OK, now back to the regularly scheduled program…actually, on second thought and to avoid a really long post I think I will continue in the next...

Idiot Savant...

2006-02-11T08:52:00.000-08:00

I really hope I am some undiscovered/undiagnosed idiot savant or something…so at least all this pain and misery would make sense and that it might actually amount to something and not be for not. But my fear is that I will most likely spend the rest of my life doing some meaningless job just so I can pay the bills and “work towards retirement” – what is the point of that really? Is it asking too much to want a meaningful life and career? I know some will argue that life is beautiful and that living in-and-of-itself is enough reason to live, but I don’t quite agree with that.

To pacify myself, I hold on to the thought (or delusion) that perhaps I do have some great talent or contribution yet to offer this world. One of my “delusions of grandeur” is that a screenplay I have been writing might actually be made into a movie. How crazy is that? But it is one of the few things that keeps me hanging on.

Psychiatric ER

2006-02-08T13:56:00.000-08:00

So, I finally conceded to my friends request to seek more immediate mental health care and went to the Psychiatric Emergency Room here in Pittsburgh. I might note that I have been to this ER on one other occasion back in August and at that time was set up with an Intensive Outpatient Program for Men with Depression (I’ll touch more on that experience in another post). Knowing this, I am not sure what more I was really expecting or hoping to have happen this time…but at least taking the “first step” made me feel better. This time was made a bit more difficult because I was going by myself, where as, last time I had my friend to accompany me and help ease the anxiety.

It was a 5 hour wait before I was seen by the doctor…and as I waited I couldn’t help but wonder and was curious about the circumstances that led the others, in the waiting room, to this point in their lives where they had to seek emergency treatment for their mental health. We all have our stories to tell...and I wondered if the others in the waiting room were entertaining the same thoughts and questions…and specifically, I wondered what they were thinking about me and my “circumstances.” Could they have ever guessed the irony of the situation in that I had planned to be a doctor and, in fact, had even made it into medical school…I mean everyone thinks doctors are somehow “immune” to all the afflictions of us mere mortals…right? So, how was it possible?

I suppose that if you were stuck somewhere for several hours and had to do some people watching, the waiting room of a Psychiatric Emergency Department is the place to do it. There were a lot of interesting characters, but a few in particular that caught my attention. The first being, whom I shall call the Gay Redneck Couple…this was an ambiguous situation…at first these two guy came across and the “red-blooded, blue-collared proud to be an American”…you know the type. They dressed the part in their baseball caps, blue jeans and work boots (with one of them even wearing a camouflaged pair)…coming from a blue-collared/hunting family I knew it was not uncommon for one to wear their hunting clothes interchanged with their work clothes as their occupation and outdoor sport of choice both required clothing that would protect one against the elements. It became clear to me after watching their body language and affection for one another that they were more than close friends…all I needed for confirmation was for one to turn to the other and say “I wish I knew how to quit you.” (A Brokeback Mountain reference for those of you who haven’t seen it yet). That’s not what really made these guys interesting to watch though, it was that they appeared to be happily intoxicated and were commenting on every other person in the room…thinking they were just whispering to each other. I was sitting right across from them and could here most every comment. They even commented on me and how sad I looked…which made the one guy start to cry...I was touched. I was at least spared comments about my attire…others weren’t so lucky as I heard various comments such as “Those jeans make her look like she doesn’t have an ass.” The person who they were talking about was perhaps the only other person in the room who looked more depressed than me...so caring about how her ass looked in her jeans was probably not that high on her list of concerns.

Then there was this girl who had to be no more than 14 years old that came in with her mother. It was a surreal experience seeing her, because she was this attractive young girl, with an angelic face, who was wearing a large studded black belt (think Billy Idol), a pair of jeans, a black t-shirt (with a long sleeve white shirt underneath), and a pair of black and white checkered Vans shoes…for a moment it took me back to 7th grade…as this is exactly what someone would have worn at my suburban junior high school (I guess it is true what they say…fashion is cyclical). It was almost as if I was starring at my past…I could have easily stepped out of the moment, walked up to her and said, “Hey, Jen, did you finish you algebra homework because I had a few problems that I couldn’t figure out?” as we walked to English class together. It made me question how 20 plus years of my life have passed and this is where I am at this point in time…how is possible!?! How did it happen?!?

Well, I finally saw a doctor…and within the first minute I was disenchanted...this doctor showed absolutely no compassion for my situation what-so-ever. I don’t want to sound racist or anything but my experience has been that Asian and Middle Eastern doctors tend to be the least outwardly companionate…and at that moment I needed some compassion. I spoke with her for several minutes and then she asked me, point blank…"Why did you come here today?" I was a little taken aback as I said “I am so depressed that I am not functioning on a daily basis.” That was followed up by “Are you thinking of harming yourself or anyone else?” And my response was “well, not really, I am not actively suicidal (which may not have been entirely true), but I fantasize all the time about being dead or just simply not existing.” After a few more questions she left and came back with the same doctor that I had seen when I was there back in August. I really connected with him and I immediately felt better. We talked, and he told me that unfortunately, unless I was at risk of harming myself or someone else that I wouldn’t be admitted and that the next best thing that they could do was set me up with out-patient care. I even asked him what would really happen therapeutically if I did say I was suicidal...and his response was that being admitted is more for safety rather than therapeutic purposes. Sensing my frustration, he openly expressed his own frustration with the standards of practice with mental health care in the country. Surprisingly, he also remembered speaking to me before and remembered specific parts of our conversation. He pretty much told me that I was stuck in the stages of grieving and needed to work with a therapist to get through it…and he is right…I often use the analogy of losing a spouse to try and express the magnitude of my own personal loss.

So, my ER visit concluded with me leaving with no more than I arrived, except for a piece of paper that had the date and time of a therapist appointment on it, and was trust back out into the cold (both figuratively and literally) real world. As I walked to my car in the subfreezing temperatures I stopped and pondered how, perhaps, I have never felt more alone and helpless as I did standing there at that very moment.

I'm still here...

2006-02-06T09:01:00.000-08:00

Just wanted to post to say that I am still here. I appreciate everyone’s concern, your words of encouragement and your time in stopping by and taking the time to write. I am just in a really dark place right now and I know I need help...it is just so hard to take that first step to actually get it. Actually, at the urging of my friend I am considering going to the hospital today.

Reluctantly accepting defeat...

2006-02-01T16:47:00.000-08:00

As much as I have tried to fight it and as much as I hate to admit it…depression has gotten the better of me. I am literally now to the point where I can’t take care of myself…I can’t hold down a job, I am not eating, my personal hygiene has gone to shit and there is nothing I can do about it. Except…

Last night, I even scared myself as I placed a tall glass of antifreeze in the refrigerator, to chill, as if it were some vintage Chardonnay that I had been saving for just such a special occasion. There is only so much a person can take...and hovering near the bottom as I have, I thought I was pretty much there. Realizing the seriousness and desperate nature of the situation I hopped into my car and drove 5 hrs to be with a close friend of mine who has pretty much been there for me throughout my “fall from grace”…she also happened to be a classmate of mine from medical school and has been the one constant person that I have confided in and leaned on throughout this whole ordeal. And, it is now becoming painfully clear to me the toll my depression has even taken on her…she has been my strongest advocate and confidant…but even she has reached her limit.

In reality, as I am experiencing this, it is still all so surreal…it is as if I am watching one of those E! Hollywood specials that documents the fall of some former childhood actor or some celebrity who was unable to deal with the pressures of trying to make it in Hollywood. I just wish I could turn off the television and get back to my life, but the reality is…this is my life.

To put things in perspective…physically, I have essentially gone from someone who had a pretty positive self-image…I was a former amateur bodybuilder (and male entertainer on occasion) who enjoyed yoga, eating healthy and taking care of himself to now being a broken down middle-aged man who really doesn’t give a shit about his body…in fact, there is a certain degree of self-destructive neglect and damage that I actually think I deserve…how fucked up is that? And, intellectually, I have gone from graduating college with honors to being a medical student with aspiration to be a surgeon to now being unable to focus and concentrate on the simplest of tasks!!!!

Bottom line...Depression sucks!

As I slip further and further into the depths of depression...

2006-01-31T13:47:00.000-08:00

I am losing my ability and desire to function on a daily basis. I can't accept the fact that my life has deteriorated to this point...I can't even look in the mirror because I am so disgusted with myself.

Depression vs. Sadness

2006-01-27T13:21:00.000-08:00

For anyone who has ever had to try and explain to someone that "no, I'm not just feeling down or sad...I really am depressed" or vice versa, I came across this quote from Gloria Steinem. I was so impressed with how this statement says so much with so few words…and I have never heard someone contrast the difference between depression and sadness so eloquently and yet so succinctly.

“…I realized that in depression, nothing matters. And in sadness, everything matters.” Gloria Steinem, referring to the loss of her husband, during an interview on the CBS News Sunday Morning, 1-22-06

Real Men. Real Depression.

2006-01-25T00:36:00.000-08:00

I was surprised to recently run across the "Real Men. Real Depression" campaign by the National Institute of Mental Health, targeting male depression, given that the campaign was launced in 2003...I have included a link to the campaign in my links section.

One facet of the campaign that I found particularly interesting involves the Public Service Announcements (PSA). These PSAs were basically real men speaking openly with a documentary filmmaker about their experience with depression. Here is a direct link to the PSAs. I think it is pretty powerful to hear these men tell their own stories in their own words. The men include a retired U.S. Air Force First Sergeant, a firefighter, a writer, a publisher, a national diving champion, a lawyer, a police officer, and a student.

I know, in general, we have a long way to go in dealing with the stigma associated with mental health but as a male member of society there is an even greater pressure to "just suck it up" and to "be a man about it." Hopefully, this blog and other men who blog about their depression will be one more step...however small it may be...in dealing with the stigma.

Perspective...

2006-01-23T19:58:00.000-08:00

In the midst of my self-loathing I stumbled upon this Short Film, Beyond Iraq, that was shown at the 2006 Sundance Film Festival.

It really puts life into perspective and was a nice “escape” from my depression...even if it was only for 8 minutes.

Where's the Bottom?

2006-01-23T15:08:00.000-08:00

I am sure anyone who has dealt with depression knows "The Hitting the Bottom Effect”…actually, I just made that term up. Basically, the “effect” refers to the course of a depressive episode from the point of descent, to the bottom, and finally ascending back to the point of the baseline. That sounded pretty scientific…huh...maybe my biology degree is paying off after all.

Well, my past experience with depression has always been that when I would first start feeling a depressive episode coming on I would just brace myself for the impending descent knowing that in a weeks time, or so, that I would get through it…and that made it that much more tolerable.

But, what I am experiencing now is something much more…I have been in this “depressive episode” since the beginning of December and I still feel like I am in freefall…and I keep thinking to myself...”Where’s the fucking bottom already!”

The only other time that I was this incapacitated was when I first left medical school and then I was literally bed-ridden for 6 months.

I am not even sure what my point in this post is…right now my mind is so clouded and disjointed that I am finding it hard to collect my thoughts…

Questions and Thoughts that Tournment my Mind...

2006-01-21T12:59:00.000-08:00

What is point of life? And I am not trying to be profound or anything…I think that would be asking way too much at this point in time of my life. I think I am searching for a more pragmatic answer.

Think about it…if you have no reason to get out of bed in the morning…I mean nothing to look forward to…either personally or professionally…and your day is filled with nothing but pain, regret and sorrow…really what is the point?

How does one reconcile the current state of their life with the former life they lived and worked so hard for…and really enjoyed?

Is it possible to be content, let alone happy, again?

Perhaps, more importantly, what if you have lost your hope? Isn’t it hope that gets us through the trying times? I can honestly say that I have reached the point of hopelessness...and I have actually been there for some time. I would say my life, over the last few years, has been an invariable state of hopelessness interrupted by fleeting moments of false-hope and pseudo-happiness. What do you do when you get to that point…commit suicide? I guess some do…I ‘ve tried it myself, unsuccessfully, twice (it is a lot harder thing to do than some might think)…so what option does that leave you? I guess that is really the question that I am trying to answer.

I definitely feel that I am at a crossroad in my life and I am struggling with this peculiar fantasy/realization that the next stop on this downward spiral, if I don’t do something about it, is homelessness (and I am not being melodramatic here)….and knowing this I still can’t do anything about it. I honestly just want to walk away from my broken life...I just want to leave everything and everyone. In a strange and esoteric way I find a certain level of comfort in the notion of being homeless…with no hopes, no dreams and no expectations.

OCD...Perfection Obsession...an Epiphany

2006-01-19T12:39:00.000-08:00

I had an epiphany the other day about my "mental condition"...and as long as I have been dealing with (or perhaps more accurately, not dealing with so successfully) my mental health, I was surprised to stumble upon such a revelation about myself. The catalyst for this revelation was a report that I came across on CNN...When the Brain Doesn't Know When to Stop; Obsessions Control Patients' Lives...and the reason that it caught my attention was because I know that I have obsessive-compulsive tendencies. These tendencies have been touched upon by a few therapists of days gone by but the main issue was always diagnosing and treating my depression and more recently ADHD.

In fact, I always kind of dismissed my obsessive-compulsive tendencies as a quirkiness that made me "me"...I mean, I liked the fact that I was a very neat and organized person. My "perfectionistic behavior" also gave me a sense of control and calm in my life when I had everything the way I wanted it...and I'll be the first to admit that gaining a sense of control and calm by having my toothbrush and toothpaste sitting a certain way and in a certain spot on the bathroom counter is a a bit extreme...but it made me happy. And on more than one occasion my "quirkiness" has also served as the source for some good-natured fun amongst my friends and co-workers...for instance...I remember, at work, coming back to my cubicle to find my entire desktop rearranged and having things placed purposefully in a disorganized manner...only to hear chuckles on the other side of the cubicle wall.

In the back of my mind I always kind of dismissed the notion that I had OCD because even though I related to some parts of the definition, the definition of OCD in it entirety, didn't exactly define my behavior. I never knew there was a specific subtype of OCD called "Perfection Obsession"...and even at this point of my life there is a certain sense of relief and empowerment to be able to put a label on behavior that I know falls well within the catagory of "dysfunctional."

It was this video from the report that really hit home as Shannon's story mirrored my own deterioration...here is this person who had all this potential...and it was evident to everyone around her that she could be or do whatever she wanted, but because of her condition she has been reduced to the point of "just getting through the day" as being an accomplishment worthy of a gold star...Prisoner to Perfection

Less is More...?

2006-01-17T19:08:00.000-08:00

I am noticing more and more that most people (at least in the blog circles that I frequent) do not necessarily post to their blogs on a daily basis. Being new to this my initial thoughts, and the advice given to me, were to write a new post daily for a 3 month period in the hopes of developing a "readership" and to establish myself amongst like-minded bloggers...and then to take it from there. Well, this seemed like good advice, at first, because in the beginning you're all excited about saying what you have to say and the idea...and the very notion...that you are going to be "publishing" for all to see is both gratifying and self-indulgent at the same time.

I guess the very fact that I am writing these thoughts out and posting them lends credence to the cathartic (and therapeutic) nature of blogging, in and of itself. And, I suppose, the frequency with which one posts is determined by the intended nature of their blog...OK...all of a sudden I feel like I am writing a high school English paper about the "Nature of Blogging" or something to that effect.

Anyway, my point being is that I want to avoid writing simply for the sake of having something to post daily. My intentions and hope for this site are two-fold; on the self-serving side, I'm finding the act of writing down and sharing my thoughts and personal experiences to be very therapeutic...on the more altruistic side, I hope this site proves to be insightful, comforting and educational for other individuals who are dealing with depression.

I fully intend to post on a regular baisis, so please check back and your comments and input are always appreciated.

Wake me up when September ends...

2006-01-16T12:30:00.000-08:00

Well, as I said before, this blogsite is a work in progress and as such I am learning as I go. The latest thing that I have discovered/learned is how to add a video to a post.

I have always found that I find a certain comfort in some of the more mellow and "depressing" songs. I wasn't sure if that was just a product of my personality or of my depression (one could argue that they are one and the same, I guess), but in speaking with other people who are dealing with depression it seems to be pretty universal.

I wanted to share with you the following video...it is the director's cut, which is different than what you would see on MTV and VH1. I've always liked this song but it was the opening dialogue in this video, which was new to me given that I, too, had never seen the director's cut, that really drew me to it (and there is an acting scene in the middle of the video that is really intense also).

"You know they say life is short...they say you wake up one day and...and on that day...all of your dreams and...everything you wished for and wanted are... gone just like that"

Those words are so true...because you really don't know if and when everything you have worked for and cherish will be gone. I know, it is rather cliche...and it was rather cliche to me too until I lost my dream and subsequently everything else...and now I would give anything to have my old life back.

WAKE ME UP WHEN SEPTEMBER ENDS (Green Day)

Not a good weekend really...

2006-01-15T11:12:00.000-08:00

OK…my weekend went a little something like this….

It all started Friday evening while starring into the empty abyss that is my refrigerator and it was at that time that I decided that I probably should pay a visit to the local grocery store. Of course, being in the midst of a major depressive episode this was not something that I was necessarily all giddy about...but I needed some food so I really didn’t have much of a choice. I can’t really explain it but I just don’t have any self-worth at the moment and I don’t want to put myself in any social situation…even if it is only grocery shopping. So, I strategically wait until later in the evening in the hopes of minimizing the number of people that I might actually encounter…I mean, who goes grocery shopping at 8 o’clock on Friday night anyway…right?

Well, on my way to the store I am feeling pretty hungry and knowing that it is never really a good idea to grocery shop while hungry I proceeded to the nearest fast food establishment…in this case it happened to be Taco Bell…or as I more affectionately call it Taco Hell. At this point I am feeling so depressed and bad about myself I couldn’t even bring myself to go inside and eat. So, I make my way through the drive-thru and get my order and drive to an out-of-the way section of the parking lot of the adjacent strip mall so I can eat my meal in solitude. It is at this moment when I really start thinking about the sad state of my life and how low I have gotten. In fact, I get more depressed thinking about it I can’t even bring myself to go grocery shopping. But I do stop at the local convenience to pick up a six pack of Sam Adams so I could do some self medicating.

So, Saturday I can’t seem to get myself out of bed and subsequently proceed to force myself back to sleep every time that I wake up. This goes on until around 4 o’clock PM. By 6 o’clock I am really getting hungry but still can not bring myself to go grocery shopping…not because I am tired or lazy but because I am so depressed. I get the idea to order a pizza…so the next thing you know I am essentially grocery shopping over the phone with Domino’s Pizza…I am a single guy living alone and I managed to order $40 worth of pizza and chicken wings. I am figuring this should last me 4 or 5 days and hopefully by then I will be well enough to force myself to the grocery store.

Sometimes I feel as though my life has the makings for some sort of dark comedy. Can anyone else relate?

(Guest Post) same as it ever was...

2006-01-13T10:52:00.000-08:00

I open my
eyes and
squint at
the red
digits.
8:37 am
I close my
eyes and
fall asleep.

I open my
eyes and
squint at
the red digits.
10:01 am
I close my eyes and fall asleep.

I open my eyes and dread this Monday of nothing. The human smell
of my oily flesh lingers in the darkness.
"Fuck. Why get up? Why throw off these sheets just to brush my
teeth, take a hot shower and put on some clothes? I have nothing to
do today or tomorrow. I don't go back to work until Wednesday. Fuck.
All of this so fucking pointless."
I crawl out of bed and the red digits tell me it's 1:13 pm. Fuck. I don't
brush my teeth and I don't shower and that oily scent persists as I
throw on some american blue jeans (made in Mexico) and a black
long sleeve shirt.
This cold apartment. The walls pop and the floor cracks. With a few
mouse clicks I find four unread email messages. The subject titles
tell me the messages will remain unread and left for deletion.
I fire up the television and mindlessly click through the channels of
empty (moving) images.
-
piece of shit talk show host
-
soap opera whore plastered with makeup (tears falling)
-
game show host giving 30 minutes of hope to the hopeless ("That's right, Sandy! If you answer this question correctly you'll be the winner of...")
-
cable news reporter feeding pellets of misinformation to a nation of (willful) zombies
-
bullshit sitcom from the 1970s (colors fading, laugh track screaming)
-
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing but the scent of my oily flesh.
Through blinds colored white and closed tight I gaze outside.
Everything is still but for the fast food wrapper skipping across the
pavement, grass, pavement. The sky is grey grey grey and the sun is
neglecting us.
Generations overlap generations overlap generations overlap...All of
this nothingness. Nothing is built upon nothing which is bulldozed to
make room for more nothing (but this time it will be built better,
stronger).
Generations overlap generations overlap generations
overlap...Everyone is lost. Looking at this photograph from the 1920s
and I'm struck by the faces. Staring, gazing into their faces, their
eyes, looking for something familiar, recognizable.
"Don't look so hard," something whispers.
The faces and the flesh are the same. The packages have changed.
The technologies have changed. There are more wires
reaching across the sky. The lights blink faster and brighter. The buildings
have changed (taller, shinier). The produÂ©ts are more colorful. The
pace of life has changed.
But the substance hasn't.
In the eyes of those strangers from the 1920s I see
hope. I see doubt. I see joy. I see fear. Can you see it?
The spectrum that is the human mind hasn't (nor will it ever)
changed. We were just as lost then as we are right now. Nothing has
changed. People are being born (right now!) and people are dying
(right now!) on this huge rock, astray in space.
Tonight there is a question mark in the skies. It has always been and
will forever be.
Tonight there is a map with no direction buried deep - somewhere.
It is in my heart.
It is in your heart.
It is in the living hearts of the breathing.
The dying hearts of the fading.
The crumbling hearts of the dead.
And the fantastic invisible hearts of the future living.
Lost - Always and forever.

mc

"Once in a Lifetime" by Talking Heads

And you may find yourself living in a shotgun shack
And you may find yourself in another part of the world
And you may find yourself behind the wheel of a large automobile
And you may find yourself in a beautiful house, with a beautiful wife
And you may ask yourself-Well...How did I get here?

Letting the days go by/Let the water hold me down
Letting the days go by/Water flowing underground
Into the blue again/After the money's gone
Once in a lifetime/Water flowing underground.

And you may ask yourself
How do I work this?
And you may ask yourself
Where is that large automobile?
And you may tell yourself
This is not my beautiful house!
And you may tell yourself
This is not my beautiful wife!

Letting the days go by/Let the water hold me down
Letting the days go by/Water flowing underground
Into the blue again/After the money's gone
Once in a lifetime/Water flowing underground.

Same as it ever was...Same as it ever was...Same as it ever was...
Same as it ever was...Same as it ever was...Same as it ever was...
Same as it ever was...Same as it ever was...

Water dissolving...and water removing
There is water at the bottom of the ocean
Carry the water at the bottom of the ocean
Remove the water at the bottom of the ocean!

Letting the days go by/Let the water hold me down
Letting the days go by/Water flowing underground
Into the blue again/In the silent water
Under the rocks and stones/There is water underground.

Letting the days go by/Let the water hold me down
Letting the days go by/Water flowing underground
Into the blue again/After the money's gone
Once in a lifetime/Water flowing underground.

And you may ask yourself
What is that beautiful house?
And you may ask yourself
Where does that highway go?
And you may ask yourself
Am I right?...Am I wrong?
And you may tell yourself
MY GOD!...WHAT HAVE I DONE?

Letting the days go by/Let the water hold me down
Letting the days go by/Water flowing underground
Into the blue again/In the silent water
Under the rocks and stones/There is water underground.

Letting the days go by/Let the water hold me down
Letting the days go by/Water flowing underground
Into the blue again/After the money's gone
Once in a lifetime/Water flowing underground.

Same as it ever was...Same as it ever was...Same as it ever was...
Same as it ever was...Same as it ever was...Same as it ever was...
Same as it ever was...Same as it ever was...

I came across this post on another blogsite The_Sky_Is_A Television_Signal. I was blown away and impressed at the same time. I think the writing and the subject matter makes this a great piece of work. I wanted to share this with you and with MC's permission I was able to do so. If you enjoyed this piece as much as I have...I just ask that you please leave a comment here or on MC's blogsite because I think he deserves all the praise and credit he can get.

Isolation...

2006-01-12T16:06:00.000-08:00

Continuing with the isolation and the feeling alone topic from yesterday…I thought I would use my own experience as way to illustrate the isolating power of depression.

I have never been one to say that I had tons of friends…more so, I always thought of myself as someone who had a few close friends and many acquaintances. Well, since my slow downward spiral which began 2 ½ years ago, when I left medical school, I have effectively been able to ostracize my entire family, all my acquaintances and all but one of my friends and her mother (I can honestly say that if it weren’t for those two I would not be alive today…I mean that honestly and literally). Co-workers are defiantly always kept at arms distances…therefore, relegating any co-worker relationship to superficial talk and pleasantries.

Since the time that I have left medical school I have always been searching (when not self-loathing) for that career or purpose in life that would fill the huge void left by my now non-existent medical career. Well…in 2 1/2 years my helter-skelter quest has left in it’s wake 8 different residences and 6 different employers…it was a combination of always being let down by a new job and the fear of me catching up to myself that kept me always looking for a "fresh start" and the new hope that I would finally be content again and have a career that was bigger than a 9-5 job.

Well, the search continues...but I really think I am onto something with this advocating for mental health thing…

You are not alone...

2006-01-11T15:09:00.000-08:00

First of all I wanted to thank everyone who has stopped by this site and for the kind words and comments that I have received. One of the consequences of depression is that it is a very isolating illness and has a very profound capacity to distort reality and have you thinking that you are the only person in the world who is feeling this way.

I have been so encouraged with the comments and response in the short time that I have had this site up…I mean…what a powerful thing…to have someone take the time to comment that they are going through or have gone through the same thing…it has really made me feel that, in fact, I am not alone and that there is hope…and I hope it has made others feel the same.

To further illustrate that we are not alone in dealing with depression and, in fact, some very successful people have gone onto do great things in spite of their depression…famous people who have suffered from depression.

Personal Hygiene...

2006-01-10T13:24:00.000-08:00

To illustrate the debilitating effects of depression I thought I would talk about a daily ritual that most people do without giving much thought…and I think if people who are dealing with depression have a hard time discussing depression, in general, because of the “stigma” and the “embarrassment” associated with it…then this is going to take it to the next level…I am talking about personal hygiene…yes… the assumed daily ritual that most normal people do without giving much thought to…well, when you are depressed, life is anything but normal… and to illustrate this point I think a study of contrasts would best be employed…and again I am going to really put myself out there…for a bigger cause…

If you knew me at all during my adult life you would know me as someone who took really good care of himself…I would exercise, eat right and was very particular about my hygiene and personal appearance. The term meterosexual was very apropos , if you are not familiar with the term it has nothing to do with sexual orientation but rather someone’s personal aesthetic sense. I mean, I was a guy that was very comfortable with himself and was very familiar with the T-zone, facial moisturizers and even mattifiers for my oily forehead (although I must give most of the credit to an old girlfriend who introduced me to a lot of those type of products)…but I digress. Over the years when I would get depressed I would go a day or two without showering as I moped around the house on the weekend. Well, over the last year as my depressive lows have gotten lower and lower my interest in personal hygiene became less and less. The two worst episodes were this last summer and more recently over the Christmas holiday. Over the summer…and I am having a hard time even writing this because it is so embarrasing…but I went 13 days without a shower…can you believe it!!! And the only reason I took a shower on the 13th day was that I didn’t want it to go to the 2 week mark…I didn't want to be known as the guy that went 2 weeks without a shower...I guess even when you are truly depressed you gotta have some standards?!? I would still brush my teeth 2 to 3 times per day but other than that…no interest. And during that two week period I was going to an outpatient support group for men with depression 3 times per week…I was surprised no one said anything…not that it would have mattered…I suspect that they knew that. Most recently, I went 7 days without a shower. It’s like if you don’t have a reason to get up and shower you really don’t want to nor do you have the energy to spend on such a task.

I hope this helps put depression in perspective for those that have loved ones who are dealing with depression and with trying to function on a daily basis and offers some comfort to those who are dealing with depression themselves and lets them know they are not alone.

I would really be interested in hearing from others who have had similar experiences...

Greek Tragedy...

2006-01-09T13:58:00.000-08:00

Well, my intention for this site was to make an entry everyday...no matter how big or how small...in the hopes of providing some insight, motivation or education to those who are suffering from depression or for those close to someone who is suffering. But that is the thing about depression...it's like a Greek tragedy...the very thing that you are trying to get over is the very thing that prevents you from getting over the thing you are trying to get over...very Oedipus Rex don't you think?
My point is that today the planned entry topic was going to be Personal Hygiene. Well, when I went to bed last night I has some really good ideas and personal stories about that topic...but today I woke up and could barely get out of bed and am just having a very bad day...not by normal people standards but by depressed people standards...there is a big difference. So, I have fueled myself with lots of strong, dark, french-roast (Starbucks of course) coffee to have the energy just to make this one entry...a sad state of affairs I know. But I want to stick to my personal goal of making an entry everyday for 3 months in an effort to develop a readership and see how far I can take this thing...that is a whole other topic...how to get the word out...it is proving more difficult than I anticipated...

Healthy Place...

2006-01-08T10:56:00.000-08:00

We are all searching for that Healhty Place in our lives…so, who would have thought it was just a mouse click away…well, it is http://www.healthyplace.com/ In the short time since I found this site I have “met” two really great people who are also dealing with depression. Actually, it was a post by Samantha, one of the two individuals that I just mentioned, that really made me want to participate in one of the many forums offered on this site…I really identified with and was moved by this piece…so with Sam’s permission…here you go…enjoy…

i'm scared this will consume me.
everyday, i wake up and sigh.
i say i'll do this, and i'll do that...
but i end up doing nothing at all.

i was finally given a name
for these symptoms i've had all my life.
and i'm just trying to understand it more.
yet all i want to do is pretend its not there.
and i can do that, but it might just make me worse in the end.
meanwhile all of these things are going on around me. they’re spinning
around so fast and i'm trying so hard to take everything in.
my life is headed nowhere.
i've always felt, like i don't belong. it's an aching feeling that will never
melt away. And i really don't. i don't belong. i always feel people looking
at me strange…even if they’re not looking at all.
what am i supposed to be doing?
why am i still here? i feel like i'm just wasting away…and there’s nothing i can do about it.

Thanks Sam...

Unwell...

2006-01-07T10:07:00.000-08:00

I wanted to share these lyrics with you...if you have not heard the song or are unfamiliar with Matchbox20...you can go to their website www.matchbox20.com/music/ and the song is on the album More Than You Think You Are. The title and the lyrics says it all...enjoy...

Unwell
written by Rob Thomas, 2002

All day staring at the ceiling
Making friends with shadows on my wall
All night hearing voices telling me
That I should get some sleep
Because tomorrow might be good for something
Hold on
Feeling like I’m headed for a breakdown
And I don’t know why

[chorus]
But I’m not crazy, I’m just a little unwell
I know right now you can’t tell
But stay awhile and maybe then you’ll see
A different side of me
I’m not crazy, I’m just a little impaired
I know right now you don’t care
But soon enough you’re gonna think of me
And how I used to be...me

I’m talking to myself in public
Dodging glances on the train
And I know, I know they’ve all been talking about me
I can hear them whisper
And it makes me think there must be something wrong with
me
Out of all the hours thinking
Somehow I’ve lost my mind

[chorus]

I’ve been talking in my sleep
Pretty soon they’ll come to get me
Yeah, they’re taking me away

[chorus]
Yeah, how I used to be
How I used to be
Well, I’m just a little unwell
How I used to be
How I used to be
I’m just a little unwell

Mental Prison...

2006-01-06T12:36:00.000-08:00

I am in a mental prison. My crime…having a mental illness. My sentence…a lifetime of failure and insecurities. My prison has no walls but wherever I go I am trapped within. I spend most of my days in solitary confinement…not as punishment for bad behavior, but for not being able to bring myself to engage society. With the passing of each day I am coming to the realization that perhaps I have been given a life sentence with no chance for parole…a death sentence might have been more apropos...as I already feel like a dead man walking.
Can I ever go back to a normal existence? I think not, for it is our experiences that make us who we are and I can not imagine ever not remembering the painful existence that has been my life for the last 2 ½ years. My life is and has been defined by depression. Can I ever become a reformed “criminal” as I have read of other…who have dedicated their lives to helping the next generation to make better decisions that would keep them out of “prison.” That is how I feel about my situation…I feel a strong need to be an advocate for mental health…I need to be passionate about something…and at this point of my life…depression, ADD and mental health are all I know. The irony is the very thing that I could be passionate about could be the very thing that keeps me from doing anything at all, let alone getting out of bed each day.

what next...

2006-01-04T15:11:00.000-08:00

My mind is going in so many directions at the same time that I can not focus on one thing. The only thing I am doing at the moment is sleeping as much as I can. Who would have thought that at 35 my life would be such a mess...such a mess that I don't know if i can bring it back to "normal" let alone do something important and meaningful with my life....that was what medical school was for. With as much time as I have had to think over the last several years...I have to believe that my life is bigger than just getting a job and looking forward to retirement...if that is all there is...it is a very depressing prospect for me. I know that I don't want a family...after the shitty childhood I had combined with how fucked up I have been as an adult I can't imagine bringing a child into this world...before the child I have to first think about a significant other...which at this point in my life I can't imagine letting someone get close enough to me to possibly think about a relationship...I mean I am so disappointed with my life I can barely stand to be around me. I am coming to the conclusion that my "calling" ,if you will, is in the arena of mental health...I think then, and only then can I somehow make all this shit that I have been through not be for not. I would love to become a counselor to people who are dealing with ADHD, depression and the associated mental illnesses that affect an individual. I can't help but wish that my parents had taken me to a therapist and had been diagnosed at an early enough age that my life could be so different then it is now. So, this posting of a blog is a huge first step for me as I am a very private person. So, now that I have taken my first step...the next question is how do I get people to read my blog? If anyone has any ideas I would greatly appreciate them. I realize that this is a very rambling entry and I apologize.

Everyone Has a Story to Tell...

2006-01-01T18:58:00.000-08:00

OK...seeing how I am at the lowest point in my life (at least I hope is doesn't get any worse from here)...I have to somehow make all this make sense in my own mind...if nothing else just for me to maintain what little sanity that I am holding on to. I am going to attempt...even though at this point just getting through the day takes every ounce of energy that I have...my idea is this...I believe that every person has a story to tell...and that I want to create a site where people are able to tell their story. Specifically, I want to focus on individuals who have had to deal with mental health issues during their lifetime. My hope is that someone who is dealing with mental health issues can read the struggles and triumphs of others and that they may learn from them...or if nothing else to let them know that they are not alone nor are they the first person to ever have dealt with these issues. Unfortunately, that is one of the biggest obstacles in dealing with mental health is overcoming the isolation and stigmatism associated with it.
Please be patient with me as this site will be a work-in-progress...I have already registered the domain name... www.everyonehasastorytotell.com The next step is to learn how to build a webpage...normally I am an anal retentive individual who would make sure everything was perfect before setting out on such an endeavor...but that was the pre-mental breakdown James...I will still have the same high standards but just a different way of getting there. Any feedback that you would like to give me at any stage of all this would be greatly appreciated...as sometimes it is the smallest words of encouragement that means the most.

Another year of the same ol' same ol'...

2006-01-01T12:08:00.000-08:00

Well, it is now Sunday and the new year is upon us...what a depressing prospect...another year of my life passing me by without being able to do anything about it. I remember when I was turning 30, I proclaimed to my then roommate and good friend Michael, that our 30's were going to be the best decade of our lives. My thinking was that we hade made it through all the adolescent bullshit that defined our teenage years and hopefully we had grown up enough and had a chance to "figure" ourselves out in our 20's...so that should have been enough to lay the groundwork for an enjoyable decade as we solidified who we were as individuals and started to realize our dreams. What the fuck went wrong! Somewhere between turning 30 and 35 I took a major wrong turn and I can't seem to get back on track. I am sure other Gen-Xers are going through the same realization...but it is so hard not to idealize everyone elses life and thus making me feel like the only person in the world who is dealing, unsuccessfully at that, with this major career fuck-up. My question is how do other people deal with this...the concept of dreams and reality not aligning as was planned. I mean it is one thing when life goes awry in your twenties, because you still have time to recover...it is something totally different when this happens in your thirties, especially if it is when you are past 35, because it's a real slippery and steep slope to our forties.
The funny thing about this blog...is that it has forced me to think about things with this monologue going through my mind...it kinda' makes me feel like the Carrie Bradshaw of mental health...Depression and the City...not that I am anywhere near as influential as Carrie...my point is that it was just this internal monologue that I have going on...and that made me chuckle the other day. That would be a great concept though...to have a hip show, an icon or even an "Average Joe" bringing the topic of mental health to popular culture so it can be discussed in a very open forum. Something to think about... I don't think we, society that is, have anyone who fits that description...

The one thing about depression is that you get your sleep...

2005-12-30T16:20:00.000-08:00

Wow, I can't believe it is 7:15PM Friday...I went to bed sometime around 5:00PM Thursday. It is not so much that I am tired...it is more so that I hate my life and want to escape it as much a possible. My absolute favorite time is right when I am falling asleep...there is a certain anticipation that I am going to awake from this and my life will be "normal" again...or that I just won't wake up period. It is so sad that this is how I have come to define the "joyous" time in my life.
Again, I have to believe that there are so many others who are silently suffering the same fate that I am...in one form or another. My life has now been defined as either being before medical school or after medical school. Before and during medical school I had so much ambition and so much hope about the future...now, after medical school, all I can do is ruminate about the past because I no longer have any hope or ambitions...I am simply existing...and not doing a very good job at that. How does this happen to a person!!!!!

First Post

2005-12-29T14:45:00.000-08:00

OK...here goes. As someone who has been dealing with depression on and off for most of my adult life (I am 35) it has just gotten to the point that something has to give. If you have dealt with or have been close to someone who has dealt with depression you are well acquainted with the frustration of such an illness...it is just something that someone has to experience first hand or at least in close proximity to truly understand. Pardon me as I digress for a moment...I apologize in advance for any disjointedness or tangents in my writing as I am finding it very difficult to focus with the clarity that I once prided myself on. OK, now back to the program. There are so many things I want to say and do regarding depression. At the risk of seeming to suffer from delusion of grandeur...my hope is that I can do, create, co-create, bring together, bring attention to, define, make society more understanding of and any and all other things that have to do with dispelling any myths and having people and society understand and deal with depression...I know that is a very overly generalized statement. But bottom line...as much as I have tried to not let it happen...I have come to define myself by my condition. So, instead of definding myself by a profession as most people do...depression has come to define my existence. I am someone who has to be truly be committed to whatever it is that I am doing...and seeing how my life has gotten to the point of being so consumed by depression, I feel strongly compelled to do whatever it is in my capacity to do something positive with my depression. I have to believe that there are so many other people who are suffering because I have come across so much information on the internet and through other readings regarding the prevalence of depression in today's society. Also, through my personal interactions with people who suffer from varying degrees of depression I am beginging to realize the magnitude of it all.
My hope for the writing is that it is going to be a starting point for my efforts to educate others regarding this disabling illness.
To share with you a little bit about myself...as a direct and indirect result of my depression, my life now essentially lies in ruins. Just five short years ago I was a first year medical student, on a military scholarship, who was so giddy about the prospect and the hope that my future held. Now, at 35, I am unemployed, and depressed to the point of being nonfunctional. I am having such a hard time dealing with this reality. I want to believe that my life is going to be more than some 9-5 job that has no real significance in the grand scope of things. I am convinced that there are many people who have gone through the same or similar circumstances as a result of their depression. I want to create a venue that I can pour my existence into to begin to help those who themselves or someone close to them are dealing with depression. More so, I want to help other men who are dealing with depression because society seems to have attached an even greater negative connotation to men who have depression.
I will close now...my hope is that if you come across this blog and you know someone who is suffering from depression that you would feel comfortable sharing this blog with them.