A Melancholy of Mine Own by Joshua W. Shenk and My Own Melancholy by Me

A Melancholy of Mine Own

I finished reading Unholy Ghost last night and in general, it was a bit depressing and some of it was boring. However, there were about 4 essays in the book that I found interesting or that I related to. One of them was "A Melancholy of Mine Own" by Joshua Shenk. The link above is the text of the essay on Joshua's website. If you have time, go read it...I thought it was really good and I both learned from it and related to it. Actually, reading the essay kind of prompted me to write about my own personal experience with depression...it is so different in each individual's case. Its such a blanket word, no one has the same battles with the demon...yet its so hard to put into words. There really arent words for it...and thats what I related to in the essay....I thought, "finally someone has these same thoughts. There are no words that encompass how it feels to be 'depressed'."

Before I write about my own stuff. I want to also talk about something I learned in Joshua's essay: The the word melancholy comes from the Greek words melan (black) and khole (bile). The essay says that people in ancient times thought depression was caused by excesses of "black bile"...which we know today doesnt exist...but I thought that was interesting.

We use words and metaphors to try to explain how we feel...but sometimes there arent enough words and metaphors cant do the pain justice. I know this from personal experience.

I've had depressive episodes my whole life...no one really thought of them as that though. I was just thought to be a contemplative, sensitive, shy kid when I was very small...and I was all of those things and more.

I didnt cry much when I would get hurt. I would consciously think about it though and cry sometimes because I knew that tears were supposed to accompany pain. I was a tough kid. But - other things bothered me that most kids would get over a lot sooner than I did. For instance, my dog Petey died...I cried for him before I went to sleep for a solid month until I was caught for the last time by my mom. She asked why I was crying and I told her that I missed Petey and that my stuffed pound puppy reminded me of him (I had gotten that specific stuffed dog because it did look like Pete). She grabbed the dog and slung it across the room into the wall and told me to get over it (Im sure my mother would love me telling this story). Anyway, I cried over such things until it apparently made people crazy.

Everyone seems to have a defining moment when the depression really broke through. For me, it seems like it happened during puberty and when my parents got divorced and we moved away from my home town. I didnt care that my parents got divorced, although it was very ugly...but we moved pretty far away from everything and everyone I knew and it through me for a loop.

I could no longer muffle my cries in the dark. The tears where who I was. I cried and cried every single day. I missed 42 days of school. I could not get out of bed. I wouldnt take a shower because I felt too heavy to make it through it. I didnt want to change clothes because it took too much energy. So I didnt. I didnt do anything but stay at home and cry in my bed...and when I went to school, I drank...alot. I drank a screwdriver every morning so my nerves would calm and I had a friend whose older brother would buy us liquor and we would drink jim beam and dr pepper in study hall 7th period. When my parents were home they sent me outside "to play basketball". Basically they didnt want to deal with me and part of me understands now...but I spent a lot of time outside passed out in the grass under a tree. Things have never been the same.

So thats kind of when it all became unmanageable. That was a loooong time ago. I made myself an appointment with a therapist at the urging of my basketball coach when I was 16 and was put on anti-depressants. It was weird though because I was not the picture of the depressed kid at the time, it was something I wore deep inside and the anti-depressants really jolted my mania. I was a bit of a wild child. To be honest, when I was with people I was really fun. It was those times at 3 am when I couldnt sleep or do anything but cry and write that sucked. I was diagnosed as being bipolar soon after.

I've had MANY ups and downs and episodes of all sorts since. I'm also a self-injurer and thats been a pretty convoluted problem it its self...but I dont really want to go into all of that right now,I want to describe, as best I can, how depression effects me now.

Depression puts a veil over me. The sun hurts my eyes and makes me have a horrible headache, but colors are dull. I feel dull in general. I feel waterlogged and every day existence is a struggle. My energy is non-existent, theres nothing I can do to pull myself out of it....I feel like the world is collapsing on me...and I get to a point that I dont care if it does. I feel like I am fading away...that if I died, no one would notice because my existence has faded to nothingness anyway. Food makes me want to throw up...any little amount of it, even if its just a cracker. I feel like I am wasting away because I cant eat. I want to hide because it feels safe. People make me even crazier. If someone comes to visit, I feel nervous and even down right pissed off at them and myself because I feel like a failure in every day tasks...like washing clothes, doing dishes, keeping up the house at all. I cant concentrate to read (which I really hate). Life feels so black, like theres no point in it at all. I feel like a joke. On more than one occasion Ive attempted suicide....and I felt like a loser because I failed at that.

Now that Im on an anti-depressant that works, I dont get as bad as often. I can go to work, even though sometimes I am distracted easily. It seems like out of all of my depressive symptoms the ones that hang around on a daily basis now are concentration issues. I still cant concentrate to read very long. I have to do it in 15 minute intervals....I also kind of have to do that at work. I still have dark days, life isnt always a bed of roses, but its manageable and thats all I can ask for.