Depression and what it's really like

like looking back it's hilariously obvious how depression became a fixture of my psyche starting the exact time I got sick (1985, a fine year nonetheless)

don't make excuses for the '80s

Has anyone else who uses SSRIs - specifically either sertraline or Lexapro - had any experience with nightmares/bad dreams as a side effect?

My dreams were really weird on sertraline, but then they'd been really weird in the couple of months before I started on it too so I'm not totally sure how much was depression and how much was SSRI. But there was definitely an extra layer of weird/mundane yet creepy/strange sense of deja vu like I'd dreamed about the setting before and completely forgotten until it happened again.

I dunno if I'd say they were outright bad dreams but they were unsettling. I'd also keep dreaming I was waking up and not actually waking up, which was p. frustrating, especially given that I had a lot of guilt about how much I was sleeping at the time.

for a while when I first started citalopram (Celexa), my dreams were vivid and weird in a way I hadn't experienced before, but that was some years ago now and it hasn't really stayed that way. My dreams tend to be exceedingly mundane.

I've had friends have really intense bad dreams in the early stages of sertraline, but they've faded.

I've been on sertraline for several months, and recently switched to lexapro, but on both I seem to have constant dreams characterized by feelings of paranoia, chaos, disorder, panic, etc.

crut i hope u can find someone to talk to <3 don't give up

This isn't the funnest or best topic to reply to when I'm in a good mood, so sorry if I missed some responses.

Neanderthal, it's a nice gesture, and I would mention that you could pay if he's low on funds, but if he still says no you should drop it.

I mean, him saying he 'wants to go' could just be him being nice to you and not trying to hurt your feelings for reaching out to him. I do this all the time with my friends and make excuses.

I've been taking sertraline for about a year now. I do seem to recall that when I started, I would have really weird dreams, in particular, these unpleasant gory dreams that weren't exactly nightmares--they didn't have the level of fear and anxiety that a nightmare usually brings, but like I said, they were not pleasant. But I don't get them any more. Aside from that, I haven't really experienced any side-effects, but on days when I miss a dose, I sometimes get this weird floaty dizzy feeling. Overall the pros have outweighed the cons for me. ymmv.

"not great, bob!"

seeing a therapist wednesday. probably going to ask for meds for the first time.

hope it goes well for you dude

^

good luck

Good luck

+

thanks everyone. therapist is going to be good i think.

R Williams thing is triggering some deep D over here. I hate being reminded of how high the stakes can get.

it's been weighing on me, too

yeah, it came after i'd been having some lousy thoughts for a couple of weeks

i could do without all the concerned facebook intonations.

Stars: they're just like us! One weird trick that cures depression guaranteed!

ppl and their unseen struggles that we must all remember

i'm really tired of sanctimonious unsolicited advice in general and it makes me feel alienated from ppl but that's nothing compared to having a lot of unwelcome thoughts about death. it hit me hard too.

I'm finding that, even as someone who's experienced the varying shades of this particular spectrum (see above for a multitude of examples), I have trouble being as sensitive as I could be to what's helpful and what isn't so much now that I'm in a generally healthy mental headspace. Which I think is largely because depression is so intrinsically wrapped up with perspective that, when your perspective is clearer, it's hard to remember what it's like when simple solutions and healthy patterns seem despairingly out of reach. It's also easy to forget that the path you found out of the woods isn't necessarily going to at all resemble the path someone else is on.

It's wrenching to watch someone you care about struggle and, if your tendency is to want to help, it can be difficult to stop yourself from trying to help, however unhelpful that help may be. And then, on top of that, it's hard to accept that the person who's struggling may have too much shit on their plate to worry about your feelings of paralysis and helplessness as regards their struggle. All of which is why my default position is basically, "Please just remember that I'm here for you."

these past few days have been tough for me. i wasn't even particularly a fan of robin williams, but all the talk about depression and suicidal ideation sent me to a bad place. that + the ferguson situation make me feel like things are particularly hopeless right now.

late-life suicides really get to me. I think because I want to believe that there's a finish line, that if after 20 or 30 years of grappling the demon you make it to 46 (DFW) or 59 (Deborah Digges) or 63 (Robin Williams) then goddamn it you've earned your way free and clear.

saw a piece today by a guy who contemplated suicide and 29 but got better all like "there but for the grace of god man am I glad I beat it" and it kinda set me off: like dude, I'm happy for you but RW was clean for 20 years. You think he didn't beat it? Again and again? And I just... I mean, how many battles to the death do you have to win before you get to collect your fuxxing Stanley Cup and do a victory lap around a tropical island somewhere without watching out the corner of your eye for the demon to pounce?

maybe there's some truth that you always have to keep fighting this. it's one of those things i don't want to believe, but maybe it's better to just be realistic about it.

which is a little depressing in and of itself, but it makes me want to work a little harder and take care of myself better.

no 'maybe'
no 'some'
if demons were easy to get rid of, they would not be demons
they'd be like ants or something

saw a piece today by a guy who contemplated suicide and 29 but /got better/ all like "there but for the grace of god man am I glad I beat it" and it kinda set me off: like dude, I'm happy for you but RW was clean for /20 years/. You think he didn't beat it? Again and again? And I just... I mean, how many battles to the death do you have to win before you get to collect your fuxxing Stanley Cup and do a victory lap around a tropical island somewhere without watching out the corner of your eye for the demon to pounce?

otm

I saw a friend's post on FB yesterday in light of all the RW stuff about 'hey here is my phone number if you need me please call and if I don't pick up please call and keep calling' (she legit posted her home phone number) and I'm like, I understand what you are saying and it is wonderful that you are offering that to your friends but you probably aren't going to be the difference in their lives no matter how much you want to think that that's how simple this is

it feels mean to even write it, let alone think it

i think it's probably better that she said that than she didn't? it might help someone, and if it doesn't it's at least not hurting anyone

ime people mostly don't do much to help out w/ anything when you're having a hard time

it's nice that someone's doing something.

that's just my perspective tho

no i agree, I just had so many undercurrent thoughts about it, and I think with the flood of tweets and fb posts 'call someone talk to someone' I maybe targeted it for a bit more ire than I should have

I'm more concerned about what might happen to the person who made such an offer, re the weight of responsibility, like if even one person takes her up on it--unless she's a veteran therapist (whom I doubt would post that, though for her sake, and that of anyone responding, I hope she knows the hell out of what she's doing).
Insofar as books can help, the personal disclosure and unblinking perspective of Andrew Solomon, in The Noonday Demon and others, seem invaluable. There's so much content and lucidity in his testimony---which he also brings to, for instance, interviews with the father of the Sandy Hook killer----it can be tough to read much at a single try, but persistence is def worth it. Lots of articles etc. at his site, reflecting the range of his interests and activities (not too narrow):http://andrewsolomon.com/

i've been working on a big project where i transcribe spoken search terms for a siri-like app, to help their speech-to-text functionality. the very last thing i transcribed before hearing the RW news was someone looking for a free service to help with suicidal thoughts. that spooked me, and i put my work aside for a minute and hopped over to facebook, where "RW commits suicide" was plastered all over my news feed.

:(

it is very sad and fucked up

but in a certain way these events also feel almost validating. like hey, seemingly successful and *good* ppl feel this way too, not just asshole me. sure, i'm missing the artistic genius that is the true depressive's birthright, but that's only fitting

which is horribly and typically self-centered and mean of me, but maybe not worse than all the people who feel compelled to intone 'i hope he finally found peace' let alone those who talk about 'the coward's way out'

The whole thing has made me think about how i have spent 25 or 26 years incessantly running from this feeling and will probably spend another 25 to 40 years running because in my head what happened to RW is what will happen to me if I stop running and turn around.

not sure what i honestly expect, but my country's awfulness is crushing at times

running, ever running yes

one day (or many) i just collapsed in a heap, exhausted, beat, sick of the constant, herculean efforts at self-improvement self-coaching positive thinking balanced thinking buddhist thinking non-thinking 21st century stoicism etcetera and just sat on the floor in my underwear, a heap of sagging flesh like one of lucian freud's impastoed apparitions, and said fuck it, i give up, there is no solution, fuck the solutions the strategies the postures and the "healthy habits" i'm doomed anyways, along with the rest of humanity ...

and strangely this allowed me to breathe a little easier ... so at least i could, not long later, dust myself off and keep on moving, with a touch less panic than before...

some incomplete thoughts from this week

- I know I'm not going to kill myself today. 100% sure. I'm nearly as 100% sure about tomorrow. I don't have to know that for sure about 20 or 40 or 60 years from now for things to be okay right now.

- A weird thing about high-profile suicides like Robin Williams or DFW, and the weird energy behind the impulse of people (incl. myself) using it as an opportunity to speak out about suicide awareness and such is that there's this sense that in losing the fight with depression, they didn't reach the finish line, that they could've done more. Well, I dunno anymore. It sort of seems like the finish line, when the indescribable and unknowable pain of the moment overwhelms everything else, and I wouldn't wish another day on them. It's not a rational choice, suicide, but it's become pretty comprehensible.

i look it as a fatal disease. you can allay the symptoms somewhat, and a few lucky people might actually see their way out of it, but basically you fight and fight and fight until eventually it'll just kill you, thankfully

one big thing getting me down right now is how crummy the world and people can be. i've had a serious streak of bad luck lately: two abusive therapists in a row (yeah!) who took advantage of my mush-addled brain, creepy roommate who for some bizarre reason is obsessed with kicking me down whenever he can, my job is filled with abusive, lazy, incompetent people who are perfectly happy with the shit they're living in. world's going up in flames. makes me feel like i'm going completely loony!

what makes me angry is that these people just don't seem to care. screw with people, hurt them, try to knock 'em down a peg, exploit them, use them, all without a care in the world. like it's just a natural order or something. and i feel this drive and strength inside of me to rise above and keep fighting for what i consider right and all that stuff. i'm not perfect, either, but at least i give a shit and i'm trying. it's the abject apathy and malice of other people that's a real friggin bummer, and they can get away with it or profit off of it because there really are no rules.

but i guess that's the way of the world, eh? makes me wish i was a little more like them so i could be on board with it all. i have to try a more stoic outlook on life.