Depression is depressing. That may seem like a redundant statement, but it really emphasizes the heaviness this disease can bring to bear on a soul. I’ve had a issue getting a prescription for my antidepressant refilled. As a result I’ve been without it for 5 days now. It’s been refilled and things will once again return to “normal” – i.e. more normally functional. I began to really feel the impact of the missing medication two days ago. I found myself driving from point a to point b with extreme racing thoughts, most of which were catastrophic in nature. “This was not going to go well”, “I won’t ever be able to get that done”, “There is no way this person or that person will understand”.
The cognitive distortions were the standard, not the exception. At some point, in the midst of yet another unexplained fit of tears, I recognized what what happening. I wrote a note to myself and hung it from the sun visor on the truck:
There is something frightening about not being able to trust your own thinking. But on the other hand, when the distortions are recognized and managed, there is a beautiful depth that comes from the depressive thinking. I am able to feel colors, hear smells and taste thoughts. “Abstract” becomes more real to me and “concrete” becomes less valuable. I’m not suggesting that I would want to be in that state perpetually. It would be exhausting to constantly fight that battle and it’s not something that I would ever intentionally allow myself to experience while living alone. I am grateful for the medication that gives me relief from the darkness that comes with these episodes. However, I am learning to see the beauty that the mind can unlock when it changes is lenses.
So I will keep telling myself: don’t trust your thoughts, think them twice, then find the new things they may be trying to show you.