I recently blogged about the seriousness of my depression and how I hadn't really thought about whether or not I'm a "severe" case, etc. Well I think I am starting to figure it out.
I'm pretty sure I've been diagnosed in the past, not sure what I am now, with therapists (for billing purposes to insurance) as having "major depressive disorder". I once questioned whether or not it'd be considered "major" or "minor", more wondered out of curiosity, but didn't get much understanding from the therapist at the time (this was my very first therapist who I never really clicked with. To be fair, this was also before I started seeing a psychiatrist to truly manage my medication).
I think I understand it better now. I would agree with the diagnosis. Major. Depressive. Disorder. Doesn't that sound daunting? (Some of that is the stigma talking, please notice it, dear readers).
I found some statistics on the NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Illness) website which helped all this make a lot more sense. I've heard difference statistics in different places, but these I would believe are close to accurate. They say: "If you have a mental health condition, you're not alone. 1 in 5 American adults experience some form of mental illness in any given year. And across the population, 1 in every 20 adults is living with a serious mental health condition such as schizophrenia, bipolar disorder or long-term recurring major depression." (source)
I've always put myself in this category of 1 in 4 or 1 in 5 people are like me, but that's only in a given year. Many of those people have what I would call "acute mental illness". That's not what I have. I think I have long-term recurring major depression which manifested less than 10 years ago, and maybe I just had an acute episode of depression in my pre-teen/teenage years. (Yeah, I'm self-diagnosing here).
As I sort through social and news media portrayals of mental illness, I've been frustrated with various terms, words like "fight" and "overcome". We talk about "being in recovery", and I've mentioned before that I don't understand what this means. This makes sense if we're talking about someone with postpartum depression. This would be in a case where perhaps someone could take medication for a "short" (I would call that less than 2-3 years), most importantly, temporary, length of time. Now I'm not saying that postpartum depression is less severe, but I'm focusing on the point of it being temporary (for many cases at least). This is why we can talk about "being in recovery" with these cases.
I can't talk about my illness as "overcoming" unless it's overcoming an episode. I can't talk about "being in recovery" because it's continually proven to me that episodes do occur on a somewhat regular basis. To those that don't understand about chronic mental illness, in which the symptoms do continually recur, it may sound like I am "giving up". Or I have a negative attitude about my mental illness and therefore it keeps happening. What I do know is that when I've gone a longer stretch without an episode, I fall harder when it does hit. I say things to myself like "I've been doing so well lately. How did I screw it up so bad?" It feels like a much bigger letdown because when I go a long stretch, I think I continually allow myself to hope and tell myself that I'm doing "better". But maybe if I accept that I have this disease, it's almost easier to get through a tough episode/evening/day/week. Recently, when I was "getting my period", I never actually fell into a full episode, even though I had a rough patch for a few days. I made it through without getting too too horribly into the hole. (Although perhaps to my readers, it sounded worse than that).
While I appreciate seeing stories in the media about mental illness, I think we could do a better job about reporting on chronic mental illness. Many people live with mental illness most or all of their lives. And I think our discussions do a disservice to those chronic mental conditions which cannot be "cured" (at least with the current treatment methods) and these people never are "in recovery" to the extent that widespread belief is about "recovery". At least when I hear the word "recovery", I think it's considered to be long-term.
I don't get that kind of recovery.
I don't blog about this today to be a downer. But honestly, to me I'm being realistic. And I think this post is a form of acceptance for me. I accept that I suffer from long-term recurring major depression. I accept that my disease is chronic and that I will forever require treatment.
It isn't weak to accept mental illness in one's self. I find it empowering, actually. I can name the condition that I have and somehow that allows me to be less afraid of it. Understanding the treatment options and seeing the benefits in myself, I also understand that having a mental illness is not the end of the world. Sometimes it feels that way, but accepting the condition helps me to remember that with this condition comes periods of "recovery" we could call them. Plenty of times in my life where I'm not fallen down the hole.
And that's something to be grateful for.
Just to be clear, today is a good day.
On a happy note, I am going to attempt an easy workout next. Maybe just some spinning on the stationary bike while I watch a show, or some walking around the neighborhood, or maybe some yoga, or maybe some combination of the above. I hope the ski injuries aren't bothered by it. But again, I totally accept that the ski fall was my fault, and my risky skiing. I learned some important lessons about speed on the ski slope- I'm lucky I didn't hit anyone on the slopes when I fell because then I would have caused injury to someone else, and I'm lucky I didn't get more seriously injured. Pretty sure there's nothing long-term in my injuries, but I'm being careful, I've found that ice helps the pains, and I'm taking it easy in the recovery.
Buddy the cat enjoyed hanging out with me while I iced this morning.
