Roy Exum
I am one of 350 million people in the world who suffers from clinical depression. The doctors trace it back to my first decade of the 21st century when constant surgeries and infections knocked me loopy but the more I have found, I believe I am more like Sir Winston Churchill, Abraham Lincoln and pro football star Terry Bradshaw – I think I have had it all my life.
Today it begins, the most depressing time of the year. For people who struggle with the disease, the weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas are awful.
As they see families bustling about, with Christmas trees lashed to the top of cars and kids jumping for joy, many people like us realize we don’t share those feelings. So what do we feel? Nothing. You feel absolutely no emotion.
“Why can’t that be me?” What is so wrong with me that I don’t feel the joy and happiness I see all around me? I can’t fully answer those questions but I have figured out that if I do something nice for somebody it makes me feel better and I know a 30-minute walk can immediately boost my mood swings. I also “play it down and pray it up” and I am so happy God has enabled me to find professional help and the medicines that I take each day.
Because I have identified my depression and take positive steps to keep my feelings in check, I am glad to testify in a public way it can be managed. Really! Oh, some days are better than others but I have chosen to write and talk freely about it. I want people to know if I can get help, anybody can, and should before they suffer any more.
You also have to “out fox” depression. My funniest writing comes when I use my craft to share humor. Trust me, many times when I do I am treating me. I also take two pills every day. I can’t tell if I do, but I can sure tell if I don’t.
I am also wary enough to avoid what Churchill famously called ‘The Black Dog.’ Yesterday I went to Nashville to take part in a wonderful party with my daughter and son-in-law. I wasn’t keen on a Thanksgiving Day drive but knew if I spent the day alone it could be a recipe for a disaster I neither want or need.
Most people have no idea there is also a well-known condition called “seasonal affective disorder.” Ironically, it is called SAD and happens where people see the days grow short, it gets darker earlier, and the first frost kills the flowers. It is very real and very treatable but you need to ask for help. With the arrival of cold weather, your mood and your emotions can get cold, too. Believe it or not, more women have SAD but research has also shown it is more severe in men.
Some years ago I started having “panic attacks,” which are awful. I could walk into any hospital and immediately “be afraid of being afraid.” One day the chief of psychiatry at Mayo Clinic took me to lunch and asked that I drink a beer with my soup. Sounded pretty stupid, beer and chicken and rice, but this guy was an absolute master.
We had a delightful conversation and then he cured me of “panic attacks” in a way that I have never had one ever since. He handed me a bottle with 12 pills, some kind of medicine than can calm anxiety in a person about to take an important test or something like Barbara Streisand takes before each concert. “Take one of these the minute you feel a ‘panic attack’ coming,” he advised, “and you’ll be fine.”
That entire year I was at Mayo Clinic a lot for infections and the endless surgery that was required. About eight months after my soup-and-beer lunch, the psychiatrist stuck his head in my hospital room to see how I was doing. “Have you had any more trouble with those attacks?” he asked and I told him I was so grateful I had not. Then he asked how many pills I had taken. I told him the bottle was in my coat pocket.
“I take it everywhere but, so far, I haven’t had to use it at all.” He laughed with delight, telling me how happy he was and then he added, “You can leave the bottle in your medicine cabinet. Your panic attacks are over.” Is that magic?? Is that a miracle? No, it is what a real smart psychiatrist, psychologist, or a licensed mental-care worker does just about every day. They “out fox” the misery.
What if I were to give you my word you can get the same help for depression? Tell your family physician you are struggling and they will develop a plan to manage and, in many cases, overcome it.
Surprisingly, December is the month of the year when there are less suicides than any other, yet scientists, according to a recent study in Denmark, see as much as a 40-percent increase in suicide rates just after the holidays. January is notorious, but doctors agree that now is the time that many first thoughts of taking one’s life are born. Don’t let it get that far.
Here is The Mayo Clinic list of depression symptoms. If you detect any of these in your psyche or your soul, get help and you’ll save yourself untold anguish. I know.
-- Feelings of sadness, tearfulness, emptiness or hopelessness
-- Angry outbursts, irritability or frustration, even over small matters
-- Loss of interest or pleasure in most or all normal activities, such as sex, hobbies or sports
-- Sleep disturbances, including insomnia or sleeping too much
-- Tiredness and lack of energy, so even small tasks take extra effort
-- Changes in appetite; often reduced appetite and weight loss, but increased cravings for food and weight gain in some people
-- Anxiety, agitation or restlessness
-- Slowed thinking, speaking or body movements
-- Feelings of worthlessness or guilt, fixating on past failures or blaming yourself for things that aren't your responsibility
-- Trouble thinking, concentrating, making decisions and remembering things
-- Frequent or recurrent thoughts of death, suicidal thoughts, suicide attempts or suicide
-- Unexplained physical problems, such as back pain or headaches
“For many people with depression, symptoms usually are severe enough to cause noticeable problems in day-to-day activities, such as work, school, social activities or relationships with others,” the Mayo Clinic website claims. “Other people may feel generally miserable or unhappy without really knowing why.”
* * *
“Macbeth: How does your patient, doctor?
“Doctor: Not so sick, my lord, as she is troubled with thick-coming fancies that keep her from rest.
“Macbeth: Cure her of that! Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased, pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, raze out the written troubles of the brain, and with some sweet oblivious antidote cleanse the stuffed bosom of that perilous stuff which weighs upon her heart.
“Doctor: Therein the patient must minister to himself.” – William Shakespeare, Macbeth.
royexum@aol.com
November 26, 2015