Let's Talk About Depression While I'm Not Feeling Depressed

Hi, my name is Brittany, and I have depression.

(I didn't really want to start this post with that line, but I couldn't think of anything better).

I've mentioned depression here on my blog, but I've never written a detailed post about my experiences with depression. There's no reason to think my story is special, but I'm going to write it anyway. I know I’m in good company.

Right now, I'm feeling really good. I feel like myself. That could change tomorrow. But I am currently taking anti-depressants, and for the most part, my depression is well-controlled with a down day every now and then.

I recently had a change of mindset regarding anti-depressants. I understand the rhetoric of depression being an illness and therefore, needing treatment ("You wouldn't let diabetes go untreated" and that whole bit), but one thing I've always expected is that I'll eventually be free from needing treatment. I've always looked at treatment as a temporary necessity. I've been trying to get away from it because deep down, I still have that subconscious belief that there is shame in having depression - that it's my fault, and that if I have symptoms, there is clearly something I'm doing wrong. I know that's not true, but it's still in the back recesses of my mind somewhere. I've only recently acknowledged that maybe, as with diabetes, I will need treatment for the rest of my life, and that might be okay. 

Me coming to terms with the truth

My first brush with depression was after Nicky was born. And I mean immediately after. Holding my baby in the hospital, something felt off. Until now, I have only confided this in close friends, so here I am writing it for the first time: I wanted to get rid of my baby.

A few days after Nicky was born, a mother in our area took a newborn baby to a church and left him there. This brought up a lot of discussion in the media about the Safe Haven law. It was all over the news for days as I tried to keep myself together. I was jealous of that mother. The one who could leave her baby and walk away. I knew I couldn't do the same because my family would hate me. But that's what I wanted to do.  

I knew a little about post-partum depression, but I had a hard time accepting that that was what was I was experiencing. It wasn't talked about as openly as it is now. My thoughts were so dark and wrong, and I fully attributed them to myself. It was my fault. Two weeks post-partum, I confided in my doctor. I didn't tell him the specifics of what I felt. I only told him I didn't feel "right." He prescribed anti-depressants for six months. They seemed to do their job, so I didn't go back in to renew my prescription.

I was so ashamed and embarrassed about having PPD. I didn't want to seem weak or broken, and above all that, we'd had a few years of infertility (including tests and treatments), so it felt so wrong to be depressed after we finally got our baby. 

Fortunately, I didn't have PPD with any of my other babies. I just had normal baby blues that cleared up in timely manner. I was always paranoid with every birth, though, and I was always ready to call my doctor after the two week mark if I didn't feel immensely better. 

After my initial experience with PPD, I found myself needing anti-depressants occasionally in the summer and whenever I had a three-year-old. Essentially, I've been in a pattern of going off and on medication for thirteen years. I never took medication during my pregnancies, but I can't say with full confidence that I didn't need it. 

So let me continue this tale from where I am now - at age 36 as a stay-at-home mother of four whose depression is controlled with a daily pill.

Last August I weaned off my anti-depressants again. Like I said, I've always worked under the assumption that I need to figure out how to free myself from medication, so this was yet another test to see how I would do without it. For the first several weeks, I was alright. I thought I'd really arrived. But then the symptoms started creeping in. 

When depression sees me thriving

For me, depression usually manifests itself in the form of:

• Feeling angry and irritated
• Feeling incapable and overwhelmed
• Simple tasks like having to buy a gallon of milk feel impossible
• Fatigue
• Not wanting to be around anyone
• Not being able to feel the Spirit
• Not being able to pray
• Different than choosing not to pray. I cannot pray.
• Feeling worthless
• Not being able to see anything good in myself
• Feelings of doom, hopelessness, or fear

I've been very fortunate to not have suicidal thoughts during any of my bouts of depression, but this time, I was walking very near the edge. I was having some of the strongest feelings of worthlessness I had ever experienced, and I felt like they were gateway feelings to suicidal ideation. If they'd been allowed to continue, I may have ended up in a darker place than I've ever been. 

In hindsight, it's very clear that I was having depressive symptoms, and that I needed to get help,* but while I was in the thick of it, it was hard to see. It's always that way for me, and I think it goes back to the belief that I am supposed to free myself from treatment.

I so wanted to be medication-free. I tried to pray about what to do, but it was more like thinking about praying about what to do because, as you can see from the list above, prayer doesn't go well when I'm depressed. I was shocked when I received an unexpected, very clear and specific answer to go back on my anti-depressants! With that answer also came the additional guidance to stay on my medication. This answer came while listening to a talk about the Book of Mormon, of all things. 

Portrayal of my shock

That was right before Thanksgiving, and that brings me to where I am now, and my new mindset of "staying" on medication rather than always trying to free myself from it. 

Now before this starts to sound like I live a life of sadness and gloom (too late, maybe?) I have to say that, although I've had issues with depression, I still have a great life, and I'd like to think I'm actually a very happy person. 

You may recall that when I was finishing my degree a few years ago, I had to do a practicum where I wrote and taught a workshop on happiness. One of my best take-aways from my studies was the definition that I now use for happiness. This comes from a Dutch sociologist named Ruut Veenhoven (1984):

Happiness is "the overall appreciation for life as a whole." 

Veenhoven additionally defined happiness as, "the degree to which an individual judges the overall quality of his or her life as a whole favorably" (as cited by Bekhet and Zauszniewski, 2008). 

Stanley approves this message

Because these definitions of happiness are now ingrained in me, I think and speak about happiness a little differently than most people. I hear people debate whether "happiness" and "joy" are the same thing, and really, it just depends on your definition of the words. I use them interchangeably. 

When I read the scripture in the Book of Mormon that says, "Adam fall that men might be; and men are, that they might have joy," (2 Nephi 2:25) I think of it as saying "men are, that they might have an overall appreciation for life as a whole." In other words, one of the very purposes of our existence is to appreciate what we endure and what we learn in mortality. Likewise, when Nephi says "we lived after the manner of happiness" (2 Nephi 5:27). I believe Nephi was judging the overall quality of his life as favorable. 

Ultimately, by these definitions, happiness is a form of gratitude, and gratitude is medicine!

Elder Robert Hales said, "In some quiet way, the expression and feelings of gratitude have a wonderful cleansing or healing nature... Gratitude brings a peace that helps us overcome the pain of adversity and failure" (1992). 

Medicine! But not to take the place of literal medicine. Just to help it in its effectiveness. So I take my medicine, and I take my "medicine," and now that my depression is once again managed, I'm going to keep moving forward and LEAVE IT ALONE unless something changes, and I need to revisit my method of treatment. I'm not going to try and sneak away from anti-depressants anymore. 

Actual footage of me trying to hide from

anti-depressants in the past

*I remember listening to a podcast a few years ago with a therapist who said something like, "Some of my depressed patients are the most mentally healthy people I know." He was referring to their ability to recognize when they need help, which is a very healthy skill.