I'm so sick of being depressed.

At one time, I worked in a drug rehab facility that did seem like a pretty good place. Drug addiction doesn't happen to be a problem I've ever had, and I was astonished at the hold it seemed to have a those with the problem. I asked a doctor at this place the following question: "Do most of the people who come here ever really get off of the drugs, or do they just keep coming back here to try over and over again, unsuccessfully?"

The doctor said that "We need to redefine our notion of success." She said that "having periods of being off drugs is real success for these folks even when the abstinence doesn't last forever."

I've been relating that insight to my own very long struggle with chronically recurring depression. I do get intervals of feeling not depressed. They just never are permanent. They always eventually dissolve into depression again. I've become very demoralized by this, even though I'm not all that depressed at the moment. I'm not, but I'm also not doing anything constructive because I feel like, "What's the use?"

I know all the things that therapists and pdocs tell you in response to that complaint, and I tell myself all those things. But it's not doing any good right now. I'm here in this forum to try and connect with those who will really understand. For anyone who can understand: Don't you get so tired and discouraged to keep falling into that deep, steep rut over and over and over?

No matter how good I can be doing for awhile - and I do real well sometimes, for a while - it never lasts. I know that it never will. I know I will be fighting this till the end of my life. I am so demoralized that I keep having to start all over again. Lately, I wish I could just fall asleep and not ever wake up. I'm not even suicidal . . . just sick and tired of having to keep rolling this heavy stone up the hill, only to have it roll back down again. I am just in tears with the discouragement.

Yesterday, I went to my newly assigned pdoc and got my scripts renewed. I answered her series of questions like an impatient robot. I just wanted to get the scripts and get out of there. I have no interest whatsoever in talking to any pdoc, and I haven't been to a therapist in years. I did all that to death. They have nothing new to tell me . . . nothing that I haven't heard and read over and over.

It is what it is . . . chronic. I've known that for a long time, but right now I am demoralized to a degree that is sapping me of any will to even try to struggle. Either you do, or you don't. I'm in bed way too much and just keep falling asleep. When I can't sleep, I distract myself with the TV for hours, until I can. I turn to other forms of media . . . just looking to more or less entertain myself in some fashion, until I fall asleep again.

I guess I came here to wail the blues. But I want some relief. There has got to be something I can change. My main contribution to life is that I take care of my elderly friend. I'm tired of doing that. He gets weaker and more frail with every passing month. Watching his condition deteriorate is like watching paint fade. It's gradual and relentless. He won't eat anything nourishing that I cook for him, so I'm sick of cooking. His mind is fading and he spends more and more time just staring at the TV and has nothing to say. Doesn't really converse. It's like he's in a little boat, drifting out to sea, and gets further and further away every day. It's like the person I knew him to be is already gone . . . and I'm tired of trying to connect to this remnant of a human being. It's not him anymore. It's some residue of him. I'm coming to not care about this "residue."

I was doing a real good job that I was proud of. Now I'm not. I should go pick up some milk for him and bring it over, and I'm not . . . I just don't care. He calls me on the phone and has nothing to say. Now I'm having nothing to say, and I can hear his disappointment. I've told him that he has to make more of an effort to "be alive," or I can't keep making the effort. Inside of my head, I say to myself that I just wish he would die already. I know I will miss him horribly when he is gone.

We argued so much that we stopped living together years ago. Yet, still we are locked together. He was unfair to me a lot. This is unfair to me, now.

As part of my self-care plan, I'm supposed to find something to do that will be a change of pace from care-taking. I'm supposed to go exercise somewhere, or join some activity somewhere. I have no interest.

Sometimes you have to start something before you have any interest in it. We've all heard that advice to chronic depressives. You can't wait till you feel like doing what needs to be done. You have to start despite not feeling up to anything. Then, as you partake in some activity, you feel better. I know all that. Maybe I'll get dressed and leave the house.

I'm so sorry for him. I'm sorry for me. He has me to care for him. I have no one to be concerned for me. He used to be, but he isn't even able to anymore. I just want to fall asleep and never wake up.

I should clean my place up. It's getting to be a mess. I'll feel better, if I do.

I think it's "good" that that doctor seemed to be "open" to redefining the notion/label of "success" - to being open to a fluid and kind view of humanity.. it looks hopeful that they aren't a user of the "sledgehammer" style/"school" of "help"

My apologies if I seem cynical

I'm sorry for your pain

PS would it be ok if I PM you about meds (I think I may have read somewhere you're taking a med I might be having to take ...). If not, no problem (meds scare me now and I'm allergic to most of them ..)

Sure, Fuzzy, PM me anytime about anything.

Yes, that doctor was a very enlightened person and I enjoyed working with her. The facility was a very humane and well respected place, even though it was a state operated drug rehab in-patient facility. Alcoholics were advised to drink a 6 pack in the parking lot prior to admission, if they thought withdrawal would be severe. Doors were locked, but patients were free to leave whenever they wanted. People were there because they wanted to be. I came to have a lot of respect for how tough it is to live with addiction.

Alas, it's been closed.

Rose, I feel that I have chronically recurring depression as well. I'm young, just 20, but over the past 2 years it's gotten really bad, so bad that it's affected every aspect of my life, especially my academics. I have a "good" support network in terms of family and boyfriend, BUT it just never seems to be enough. I am TIRED of this recurring depression. Your post was great. I could relate to a lot of it. The part that you said about redefining what success is - that "intervals of feeling not depressed" should be considered success - I feel I should think about how that fits in my own life, maybe it could help bring my self esteem up. I have low self esteem at this very moment. I feel guilty, stressed and worthless actually.

Hi Rose, I relate all too well to everything you said about depression. I have struggled with it for so many years, and you're right, it's a constant battle. Rolling a stone up a hill... I have never been suicidal but have always described things as "I wish I could go to sleep and never wake up". I am very tired of this 'cycle' as I call it. Where I might be ok, where I'm not in a depressed state, but it always returns. And I feel like I'm never going to be without it, so what's the point of trying, continuing to live. It's so hard and exhausting! But the times when I do find joy, or bits of happiness... I try to cherish those. I'm a mother now, so it's no longer just about me. At the same time, I wonder if my son is going to have to endure this horrible illness throughout his life and what can I do about that? I too know all the things I'm supposed to do - sleep, exercise, not isolate etc. But at times it's just so tiring, what's the point? I don't know why we have to endure this in our lives, but you are definitely not alone. If you ever want to chat more, feel free to pm me.

NewLyfeForReal,

I'm so pleased that my post was of value to you. I didn't expect something that positive to come out of this.

Gee, when I was 20, I thought, "If only I had a boyfriend, then I would be happy."

I'm sorry you have this burden at your tender age, but I did too at the same age. Few years later, I went for treatment and got told, "Oh, you don't have to feel that way. Get help and find recovery." Well, I don't want to discourage you, but for some of us, there are remissions, but no cures.

At 19, I had to take a break from my academics, which were a mess due to my lack of effort. Later in life, I went back to them and had a very successful experience. So the future can really hold much more than you may think at the moment.

I'm sure you're not worthless. It can feel that way, when relapses happen too often and/or too close together. Remission doesn't last, but I remind myself that neither do relapses. Be glad for what you've accomplished during the good intervals. Your post has caused me to look back, and I realize I didn't waste every minute of my life . . . not at all. I'll bet you haven't either.

Hi Rose,
I am relatively new to depression but I have a long term disability acquired when I was 17 (long time ago). It is not only going anyway but also becoming worse. So, you acquire your disability, it takes some time (that can be years) to accept it; you learn how to live with your disability and then it gets worse and you have to start the cycle again.
To me, acceptance is the key.
I like how Wikipedia describes it: Acceptance in human psychology is a person's assent to the reality of a situation, recognizing a process or condition (often a negative or uncomfortable situation) without attempting to change it, protest. The concept is close in meaning to 'acquiescence', derived from the Latin 'acquiēscere' (to find rest in).

To me, acceptance is not forever. I need to start accepting again and again

Well, Zaya, I don't know why anyone ever has to suffer anything. But it seems to be in the nature of life that living beings must suffer. It's not spread out evenly, but there's plenty to go around. I have no children, and I'm kind of glad I don't. I don't wish this on anyone.

We do have the option to cash in our chips. It doesn't take a genius to figure out how to make that happen. But we fear that, too, may involve more suffering. And we don't really want to exterminate ourselves.

Very interesting insight, Clara. Adapting to our circumstances is what it is all about. It sure is hard to manage to adapt, then the circumstances change, and you have to adapt all over again. I've come to hate change of any kind. As you say, I guess we have to periodically renew our acceptance that "what can be cured, must be endured."

Rose, reading your reply post actually made me cry right now - tears of hope, not sadness. That's what I am currently experiencing - a break from academics as I literally couldn't take it. I didn't have the mental capability to focus on my work. I'm trying to pull mysel back together now and I am feeling so much pressure from those around me, but probably to a much greater extent solely from me due to feeling guilty and stressed that I have let so many people down both emotionally and financially. I feel like I took advantage of my family. It is difficult to find my worth when I constantly remind myself of how I betrayed other people's trust and lied to them - not in an attempt to hurt them but to shelter them from hurt, and instead it backfired on me and made it all worse when they found out different things. I'm not a "bad" person. I just did bad things, and I can't forgive myself. Thank you for your reply, it made me feel better. Made me feel hopeful that in time I'll be able to forgive myself.

I totally get where you are coming from. When strength fails, it fails and those who can't understand have to be forgiven for their failure also. I remember when I went back to college more than 10 years after dropping out. When I told my father that I was returning, he said, "Well, I don't know why you didn't finish it back when you started." I got upset and we didn't speak for months. I went in and out of 4 colleges before I finally went to a 5th, where I managed to hang in their till graduation - magna cum laude. There was years after coming to think that I didn't really have any ability. (Of course, I was lucky to have been a student at a time and a place where school didn't cost anything like it des today.)

You may benefit from taking a course here and there, as I did, just to keep the mental tools from completely rusting - even if you end up going to some low-priced voc-tech school to take something that's an easy win, before eventually tackling a real academic challenge again. It's so easy for family to say, "Gee, you had real ability. Such a shame that you are totally wasting that." Turn a deaf ear. When you get to where you can't do it, you just can't do it - and that's that.

Rest while you need to, then find something you can do - if it's playing tiddly winks. I tried a mail order course on stenography, before deciding that even that was way too beyond me. I ended up working for minimum wage. Sometimes, I didn't work at all. Life actually does give you more chances than you would believe at age 20. I went to one business, asking if they had any openings, to be told "No" and to overhear, as I walked toward the door, one person there say to another, "Her? Oh just another drop out."

Those things sting and seem to keep reverberating off the walls of your mind in never-ending echos. TBH, NewLyfe, I'ld forgotten how bad those things felt. They've since been buried under a ton of later experiences - some positive and some miserably negative . . . and some quite wonderful.

I need a new layer of positive experience. Guess, I've got to realize that it won't come ringing my doorbell to meet me. I've got to make some kind of a move. Thinking on the past sure reminds me how me making a series of seemingly fruitless attempts eventually got rewarded . . . more than I would have expected. We just have to keep relearning that lesson. You will too.

So you did some "bad" things. Well, so did everyone else around you, including everyone in your family. Trust me - your parents haven't told you all they could about themselves. Some things they haven't told each other. (Who would have believed Bill Cosby could have done what it sounds like he done.) It is the worst people who have the easiest time forgiving themselves.

Cut yourself some slack. Your worst mistakes in life probably have yet to be made. Not a comforting thought, but save some guilt for when you may really need to embrace some. I have found that people who have screwed up and forgiven themselves tend to be more humane and forgiving toward others. Your failures may be what goes the furthest in making you a decent human being.

Rose, you write so well, it helps all of us to read it and relate. I was so proud to have worked through two or three cycles of depression but hitting midlife I've been socked with the biggest one of all - realizing that the time wasted both with the childhood cause and the subsequent depressions, cannot ever be had back. And so these demons continue to haunt me and so many of us.

"time wasted" . . . . it's hard to get away from that.

What if we'ld put that time to some use? . . . . . anything.

taking so long to figure out the next move . . . . . .

I hear you, hjames.

Not at all. It is not time wasted . It is helping me, as well. I was better, after my last hospitalization, I was invited to participate in a meeting overseas and was very happy to do so, but early this week I started to feel badly. I am arranging things to be able to go to emergency room tomorrow. It cannot be today because I need to take care of some stuff given that my brother lives upstairs and he is kind of dangerous. (Long story). Today is an important day as I have to size how I feel to see what I have to do, really, but I am preparing for the worst, trying to hope for the best. Part of me says: what is this all for? I am trying to accept

I guess it takes as long as it takes.

I hope you feel better soon, Clara. It is hard not to wonder what it all is for.

I agree wholeheartedly with hjames: Rose, you write so well and it helps all of us relate. Thank you for what you wrote in reply to my post. Your last line: "[My] failures may be what goes the furthest in making [me] a decent human being". I'll be keeping this quote in mind.

Thank you all for your interest and nice comments. I am having an awful time. I don't even feel that sad. Mostly I just feel tired and have an awful tough time getting up in the morning. I've never slept so much in my life. Where I've gone for my psych care, I'm soon to be discharged, as they think I'm too stable to need to continue there.

I got a few things done today . . . . went to my bf's place and got him fed and shopped for some groceries for him and got him showered . . . . cleaned up his apartment a bit. But I've come back to my own place, which normally, I wouldn't do. I just am getting to where I don't want to be with him for much. It was a big deal to get him showered. He claimed he showered yesterday. I believed him, then could see that the bathroom had not been the scene of a shower, since I was last showering him over a week ago. I get so demoralized that I have to struggle with him to get him to do anything that he should. And he just vegetates . . . .

So I'm glad to be back to my own place. Tomorrow I must get some things done. I must go try and join where I can get some exercise. I was in reasonably good shape a year ago. Now I'm becoming weak and deconditioned and tired.

I take Vicodin for bad muscle spasms in my neck and back. I've started to take it to feel better mentally because it does lift my mood. I'm just desperate to try and feel better.

Indeed it does sound like you have had an awful time. Your boyfriend is fortunate to have someone who cares so much about him. I can fully understand how demotivating it feels when you put in a lot of time and effort to help a person and afterwards the person does not really show that he/she appreciates it enough. I hope that sooner rather than later he will realize what you are doing for him and get motivated enough to not "vegetate" any longer - and to also return the action and take care of you, as you deserve. I am sorry you are experiencing muscle spasms. I hope you will feel much better soon. Hugs.

There was mutual care giving in this relationship that has a very long history. He used to be so good to me, if I got so much as a cold. He'ld run to the store for things and bring me breakfast in bed. He's kind of a nurturer deep down. He appreciates me quite a bit, and he would still do what he could for me. It's just that he can do nothing for me physically, and his mind is becoming foggier and foggier, so that he offers little in terms of companionship. It's tragic, and I am so sorry for what is happening to him. And he never complains about his loss of faculties and abilities. I even kind of like having him to take care of, as I'm retired on disability, and this "job" gives me some sense that I'm good for something in this world.

But we're far from out families, so I am alone with this. And it is lonely. Yes, he is very lucky to have me. I will have no one when my health goes downhill.

He's getting to where he can't even fix himself a simple meal. I must go over and see what I can try and get him to eat today. But I'm stalling. It feels so dreary over at his place. If we were living together, caretaking him would be a lot more convenient. We used to, but separated because I was very unhappy. It was not a great relationship. I don't miss living with him. But now, he really could use a live in companion. I get resentful and think he should have thought of that when he had that option.

I know I don't have to do anything for him. It's my choice. He's very dear to me. For years, he drank . . . then he went from alcoholism to disabling health problems. I've always cared and always helped him. I know I don't have to. I struggle with recurring depression, and he has never understood that. Home by myself, I break down crying. I was in the bed till noon today. I'm not managing to bounce out of this.

I have no interest in life anymore. That sounds preposterous, even to me. I will try to do a few things here before I leave. Open the mail . . . write some checks . . . . shower. I will go somewhere just for me before I report for duty at his house. I will hope that tomorrow I wake up feeling less dejected than I do today. Each evening I hope that. I can't seem to climb up that steep wall of this rut. I am so physically tired, and that is from just doing so little.

Sorry to just whine and vent. I know from long experience that something will seem interesting after I start to do it and stick with it for awhile. This is the advice that professionals give to depressives. I need some kind of a longer term goal . . . . something to look forward to . . . something to hope for.

I wonder about everything. I wonder what we are even here for. I'm not putting the TV on because I refuse to have the bad news of the world keep getting dumped into my brain. I don't need to know how many people in the Middle East got their heads cut off today. I can't help them . . . or stop it. And there will always be something. Usually, I go from CNN to MSNBC to FOX to BBC. And I read news magazines and try to follow the issues. The world, at large, seems like a hopeless place. I believe there are people of good will doing the best they can to solve the problems of the world. I admire them and wish them well. But I'm getting to think it would have been better if the human species never evolved.

I need to focus on the beautiful things of life . . . and they are there. Right now, some dancer is practicing till her feet bleed to be able to perform a beautiful dance. I don't know where people get the drive to care enough to make sacrifices like that. At one time, I did. Not any more. I just wake up, thinking, "I'm still here. More life to drag myself through."