The Disappointment and Despair of Depression

It is 4 am in the morning and I feel like I am in real time purgatory. I don't like going to bed because the time between I turn off the lights and computer and iPod and the time that I actually am asleep is too long a time period. This space in time seems endless, as endless and as expansive as the breadth the universe. This is the worst time for me. My mind wanders and floats back over the hurts and disappointments of the past. I imagine myself as Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz floating in the air as furniture and cows and toilets wafted by her window. But the things that float by for me leave me feeling steeped with guilt and sometimes cause insurmountable pain.

It is difficult, literally gut wrenching, to accept the that the work I invested and the stomach aches I endured were for naught. I have a BA in Political Science and a Master's in Public Administration and I can't work in the field that I studied and networked my butt off to flourish in. I am not some big time lobbyist or political campaign director; I don't work in the Obama administration; I am not a Chief of Staff for a big time elected official.

And perhaps I never will be.

This depression has a hold on me. I wish I could blame it on the al-ah-ah-ak-ah-a-co-hol that I imagine my mama drank when I was in the womb. But I suspect it has more to do with genes. Hell I don't know, I'm just crazy like that. And when I mean crazy I don't mean throwing feces on the wall. I mean not being able to drag yourself out of bed for days on end. I feel I need a personal assistant to help me open mail, cuss out bill collectors, and to fulfill other daily tasks. I probably take a shower every other day (ok every three days when I really don't give a damn). I remember a woman in my group therapy who said that some days she didn't have the motivation to brush her teeth for a whole week. I don't comb my hair and don't go to the salon to have it done because all I do is go back home and wrap it up. I have no where to go therefore what is the point of looking good.

Basically, I feel that I have been in limbo for the past several years and at times feel very disheartened and hopeless that this existence will continue for decades to come. I hate it when people tell me "Oh it's not that bad" or "Just hang in there". These are people who feel Godforsaken when they experience pain the flu for a week. I experience ongoing anxiety every day, some days worse than others. I can be so fatigued and unmotivated that I stick my head under the covers and sleep all day. I recently discovered that my medication was slowly poisoning me and causing me to have seizures. I have had severe stomach problems since I was a child and everyone I know expects me to get sick at least one time a month, like it is the part of the our family's monthly routine.

I am in limbo. Will this never end? I feel I am wasting my thirties, the prime time of my life on nothingness.

Although I sometimes feel extremely discouraged, I remain hopeful that by maintaining my health by eating healthy foods, exercising, lessening my dependence on prescription drugs and getting out of the house, it will become easier for me to re-enter the working world. I have come to accept that it might not be the high powered political dream I once wanted, but it might be something that is more in line with my interests and talent and that will allow me flourish in spite of my chronic depression.