I love that quote. I tried to research it online and figure out who said it or where it comes from, but I couldn't find a definitive answer. I hate that! It must be the English major in me, always wanting to cite my sources! Whoever said it must have been to hell and back and somehow maintained a positive attitude. I admire that sort of spirit. Sometimes I wish I had more of it, but at others I have to stand back and give myself a little credit. Most things haven't come easily to me, especially those worth having. But I kept at it until I accomplished what I set out to.
Part of my hope with this blog is to be able to share my experiences with depression, and more recently, my bipolar diagnosis. I have been very uncertain about how I feel with the "labels" of these two issues. I hate the stigma, and I fought the diagnosis of bipolar for years because of what I thought it would mean about me and for me. But part of my hope as I continue to deal with these disorders and treat them is to grow more comfortable with discussing them openly and my experiences with them. Instead of being ashamed or defensive about them, I hope I can share something that will matter to someone else who might also be struggling in silence the way I was for a very long time. Because what a difference that would have made to me!
I have probably struggled with some form of depression or bipolar disorder since around age 8 to 10. It ebbed and flowed throughout my adolescence. I didn't realize at the time what it was; I just knew I felt "different" than other children. I didn't really experience life as a kid. I was dealing with some pretty adult things in my life and childhood became a time of surviving more than playing and being a kid. I didn't realize it at the time. At the time, it was normal life for me, so I didn't realize that my life wasn't like that of most of the kids around me. I just knew I didn't fit in, and I was too serious all the time. I didn't know how to have fun. It felt frivolous and wrong in the midst of all that I had to worry about. I don't look at my childhood though as one of trouble and sadness. It was certainly challenging, but there were a lot of good times and memories, too. When I look at it now, I see that I was already depressed at a young age. But when I was at that young age, I didn't know what depression was. I thought I felt like everyone else.
I was thinking about all of this earlier tonight. Thinking about all the amazing pieces of my life story that were not easy but were worthwhile in the end. The biggest one is probably my undergraduate education. Man, life as a college student is not easy!!! I grew up on a low income, but college life gives new meaning to "making ends meet". Thanks to a major event in my college years that would take too much time to explain in full here, I very abruptly ended up on my own in college, paying rent, utilities and other expenses while trying to get an education.
I had always known that I would go to college. It was a given. I knew that if I was ever going to escape the uncertainty and poverty that haunted my parents, I had to get that high school diploma and follow it up with a college degree. I knew it would be hard, but I don't think I ever thought it would be hard for the reasons that eventually made it so.
For my first year of college, I stayed at home and went to Laramie County Community College. I loved it, and I thrived there. I was very glad to be out of high school and the pain there, and on to a new life and identity as a college student. My first year of college went smoothly and I enjoyed the experience with few problems or concerns beyond those that any first year college student endures. Though I didn't see it at the time, when I started my sophomore year, I was in an episode of serious depression. Although I had experienced episodes for about ten years at this time, I probably hadn't had one this bad before. But I didn't realize it was depression. I just felt burned out. Big time. By the third week of September, I decided I needed a time out. I dropped all my classes and started working full time.
Working while going to school compounded my depression. It was hard to find enough hours in the day to get homework done when I was also working at a property management company. I thought that I could work full time, save some money, and then be able to return to school and not have to work for awhile by living on my saved money. I am usually a black and white thinker, especially when it comes to doing my best for work and school. It seemed that if I did my best for work, then my schoolwork started slipping. If I did my best for school, then my work performance started slipping. I wanted to be 100% at everything I set out to do, and I could never make working and going to school at the same time successful for me - at least to my standard of success. I couldn't give 100% to both without burning out. And I had been giving 100% in not only school and work, but in life in general for a very long time. It was essential that I take a break at this point, and although I didn't understand why, quitting school relieved a lot of stress.
I was confused. School has always been my port in the storm. When nothing else seemed right, school was where I loved to be. Learning was what I wanted to do. I adored my teachers. I couldn't wait to grow up and be just like them. So why, all the sudden, did I have absolutely no drive or interest in school? I didn't get it.
Now I do. Depression robs one of joy in all the activities he or she has enjoyed in the past. It makes hobbies seem like chores, and it makes assignments or tasks feel like orders to climb Mt. Everest. It steals away my motivation, it squelches my interest, and it shades my view of everything, making nothing seem appealing. This is the essence of depression for me, and though it wasn't completely new, it was definitely at a new level of intensity.
Taking that year off helped, and by spring I was sending in applications to schools so I could return to college. I decided that I wanted to start somewhere new, and I fell in love with a small college in a lovely but quiet town in Nebraska. When Chadron State College accepted me, I knew it was where I belonged. As I restarted my sophomore year, a bit more nervously and certainly feeling less prepared, I also felt a renewed energy and excitement about learning. Maybe, I thought, this change was what I needed.
To be continued...
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