April 19, 2017

Star Wars: A New Metric for my Depression??

What you need to know about me to understand this post is that I am obsessed with Star Wars.  I'm wearing a shirt that says "Star Wars" in two languages and a BB-8 bracelet.  There are two Star Wars posters above my computer screen and countless action figures and books all around me.

I know it may seem frivolous (obsessions with sports teams seem similarly frivolous to me but I don't judge), but I love Star Wars.  It's my happy place.  It always makes me happy.  Or at least I thought it did...

The day the trailer for Star Wars: The Force Awakens came out two and a half years ago, I must have watched it at least thirty times.  I grinned ear to ear the whole time.  I couldn't have been more happy, and I spent the next 392 days in blissful anticipation.  Of course I had hard times, but none of them were so bad that Star Wars didn't make me smile.

Last Friday the trailer for the newest Star Wars movie, The Last Jedi, premiered.  I watched the live-streamed convention panel where the stars and director talked about it, and then they streamed the trailer for the first time!!!!!!  And I. Felt. Nothing.  Nothing at all.  And then they played it again and I thought, "Oh I must not have been paying attention well enough" (as if) "or I'm just tired but I'll be more alert this time.  Surely it will be better."  And I felt nothing again.

As I stared at the screen and listened to all the convention-goers cheer, I finally realized just how depressed I am right now.  All of the struggles we (we being my husband and I) have had over the last few months (I'm looking at you tiny angry landlady with the roofless apartment) are resolved.  There are no major problems in our lives right now.  And yet I can barely get out of bed.  I can't manage to work more than an hour or two a day.  Phone calls go unanswered.  Texts go unread.  Smoke signals go unreturned.  All of the people who have asked me about my reaction to the new Star Wars trailer have been lied to.  The truth is that I am currently broken.

It took me too long to acknowledge this bout of depression, and that's a huge problem.  I tried alternately to ignore what was going on or to attribute it to other health issues I was having.  Guys, that is a PROBLEM!  I feel like I'm sort of an expert on this whole surviving depression thing, but I ignored all of my own best advice.  And I've been afraid to publicly acknowledge the current struggle because I was afraid it would be seen as a failure and that all the people who have told me they look to me for inspiration would feel betrayed.  But I'm speaking out now because I think you need to know that this is not a fight that goes away for me.  I'm never speaking out of a place of "I've been there" wisdom.  It's always a place of "I will always sort of be there."  It ebbs and flows, and right now it's worse than it's been in a few years.  But it will not win.  I will keep fighting, as must all of you in whatever battles you face!

I have a therapist, I go for walks when I can, I take my medication, and I just saw my doctor again (new medication regimen starts tomorrow).  I wear my Star Wars shirts and bracelets and try to smile.  I am doing everything 'right.'  But the insane stress of late 2016/early 2017 (details unimportant) broke me and exceeded the limits of my old medication, and it's just going to take as long as it takes to pull myself out of the hole.

There's nothing anyone can do right now, and I promise I'll ask if something comes up.  If you have reached out to me any time this year and I have not responded, please know that it was NOT an intentional slight!

Please keep reaching out, but please don't expect a response.  I do deeply appreciate knowing that people care.  Know that between an awesome therapist, a competent doctor, and a loving husband, I am being well cared for.

Holding onto happiness

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