"Oh, just snap out of it!"

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<font color="blue"> Those wishing to become psychiatrists have to stay 2 weeks. LOL



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MWAhahahahaha right on sky

Oh come on folks, depression is just a state of mind. Just smile and it will all go away. It worked for me. I just stood in front of a mirror one day, smiled and miraculously, the depression was gone. Amazing!.

NOT!;-)

People who say things like this just want you to "act" happy or OK for THEIR sake.

Last night, at the in-laws, I overheard this comment about my mother-in-law's anxiety: "It's just mind over body." Maybe all their drinking and loud obnoxious talk was CAUSING her anxiety. It did mine.

I would like to add "pity party" and "get off your pity pot" as a couple of my faves.

I think those phrases should be against the law to say.
Shar

Grey !! you sucker punch me every time! lol I begin to question what the post is saying... and then oh yeah. You're going to teach me to read WHO is making the post before I read it!!! LOL

My T does not allow me pity parties, as agreed to... but he does allow discussing how rotten life is for me!

Agreed cms... it's all about THEM at those times.





But if you wish to start another thread about mind over body, I some things to speak about that, too!

The comment that ticks me off the most is, "HAVE YOU TAKEN YOUR PILLS?" My mom always say's that when I am grumpy. Like if I'm on meds I'll never have a problem in my life again. I wish!!!

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1) You need to develop a POSITIVE attitude
2) Life is what you make it
3) Stop feeling sorry for yourself
4) If you think "depressed" you'll BE depressed
5) I don't want to hear about your problems!
6) Oh, your just a complainer...stop whining!
7) Just read a book/take a walk and you'll feel better
8) Your just feeling sorry for yourself
9) You need to just pull yourself up by your bootstraps!

Why do ignorant people who have never experienced depression themselves seem to think the answers to treating depression are as simple as a one-liner?

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Short answer: because they are thoroughly obsessed and possessed by the mistaken belief that depression is a "choice". And they are saturated with that poisonous toxic lie because it's what's been shoved down their throats all their lives. The only difference between you and them is, you were smart enough not to buy the bullsh*t.

That's my current theory, anyway.

P.S. - I hate that *****. Don't even get me started on what I would like to do -- VERY SLOWLY AND PAINFULLY -- to everyone who ever dumped that crap on my head in ANY form .....

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... but the very SECOND I get bummed out and even mention the word "depression", I get ganged up on and treated like some kind of whiny little freak who is just feeling sorry for myself and trying to drag everyone else down with me. Anyone else ever experience this?

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Only forever ... but mostly when I was younger. I think by the time you hit 35 or so, "they" figure if you haven't "snapped out of it" by then, you're really messed up, and by then it's not polite to point and laugh at that age, y'know?

I'm guilty of saying that one... but in my defense, when he runs out of his meds, Mr. Hyde takes over and next thing you know I'm swept away on a rollercoaster ride. If you don't know what it's like to live with someone who relies on medication for emotional stability, then you can't imagine how it affects the other people in the house. The criticism, the negativity, the apathy, the sullen responses... it makes me want to leave... but it's MY house. I shouldn't HAVE to leave! So, that's my motivation for being concerned if he has skipped his meds. Hope the perspective helps you not get so angry at your mom -- it affects her, too.

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The comment that ticks me off the most is, "HAVE YOU TAKEN YOUR PILLS?"

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I'm guilty of saying that one... but in my defense, when he runs out of his meds, Mr. Hyde takes over and next thing you know I'm swept away on a rollercoaster ride. If you don't know what it's like to live with someone who relies on medication for emotional stability, then you can't imagine how it affects the other people in the house.

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I know exactly what you are talking about LMo. Hubby and I discussed it and solved the problem by him showing me his meds when he takes them. Then I can't ask...I know. It's helped us a bunch. Now to keep our parents from asking...hmmm

Thanks, I know she's concerned but she says it so much. It doesn't help that she's also on medication and any arguement we have is always blamed on me and taking meds which I take regularly. My dad doesn't like that I am on meds because he doesn't want me to be hooked for the rest of my life. But he hates that my mom and I can't talk? I do take them and my dad's not happy, I don't and my mom isn't, and I'm not happy either way but at least if I'm on meds I'm not thinking about suicide.
Back to the point I know I need to take them but why does she have to talk about that with me when I'm not comfortable about talking with her about anything most of all meds. If my dad asks me if I took my meds that morning I don't mind. Or if they ask me when I'm supposed to take them, in the morning, but they shouldn't be asking me when I'm already frustrated or mad.

Here's a few more...

* You have to WANT to get better before you can actually get better.

* Oh, just chew some gum and try to think "pleasant thoughts".

* Why don't you try wrapping a rubber band around your wrist and just snap it every time you feel depressed. This will distract you and make you instantly forget about your depression (oh yeah, there's a "miracle cure" folks! - not to mention a REALLY sore wrist).

* See that man/woman over there with one eye and no arms. Now don't you feel better/more fortunate?. (Um...sorry but NO I don't.)

Where do they get these???

Good question

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* See that man/woman over there with one eye and no arms. Now don't you feel better/more fortunate?. (Um...sorry but NO I don't.)

Where do they get these???

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I have a real life story about this one -- or rather something similar to it.

I had a dear friend (now deceased) named Rex. Rex had some sort of wasting disease with a complicated name I never could remember. Rex lived on a wheelbed. Not in a wheelchair but on a wheelbed. He had only the use of his head and neck. The rest of his body was wasting away and his limbs and torso had long since become useless to him.

His devoted mother had to feed him, bathe him, toilet and/or change him just like a baby.

Rex wasn't stupid, slow or retarded though. He did speak a little slowly, probably because his jaws didn't work well. But there was nothing wrong with that keen mind, and let me tell you something else -- there was nothing missing from that full heart, either. He was one of those unsung heroes in life who endured his unenviable lot with a rare grace, patience, dignity, and compassion for others that can honestly be described as saintly.

I would visit Rex sometimes on shabbat afternoons and just spend the afternoon talking with him about anything and everything. At that time in my life we were very poor, and I was raising 3 small children (one of them born with a congenital condition that gave her seizures and profound developmental delays) and dealing with the same things I'd dealt with all my life (and a few that thankfully are no longer issues for me now) -- but the one Rex was most familiar with seeing me go through, and hearing me talk about, was the bone-crushing depression. (He was the first person to ever speak to me about depression in objective and educated terms, as well).

One day while visiting Rex I got to venting a little of my frustration with things in my life. I had been telling him how tired I was of everyone always dumping everything on me to fix and take care of, never getting any help, never getting any rest or time for myself, then being treated like the selfish bad guy if I dared vocalize any of it. That I was always having to tend to everything and be the one to either take care of it or delegate and oversee it, and how sick of it all I was.

Now, you have to understand Rex and I had the sort of friendship where we could be authentic with each other as well as kid with each other. I told him, "you have it easy -- you get to just kick back there and laze around all day and have everyone around you wait on you -- and they have to! They don't get a choice! I wish I could have that!" -- naturally of course I didn't wish his condition on EITHER of us, but I was making a point. And I told him, joking around, "Hey, I'll trade afflictions with ya ..."

And he got dead serious, looked me straight in the eye, and without a hint of joking, said frankly, "No thanks (Mal). I wouldn't want yours for anything in the world."

Really gives you an interesting perspective on who's the "less fortunate," eh? And from one of those "less fortunate," no less.

True story.
~mal

It's funny...the mind. You can be literally eaten alive with cancer and have only days to live and yet still be the happiest person on earth. Or you can be filthy rich and in perfect health and be the most miserable person on earth. Just goes to prove how much control our mind has over us. It's really amazing. I think about people who have some illness but don't have any idea what is wrong with them until they finally get a diagnosis and then they're all happy like "oh cool, well at least I know what I have now". It's really amazing how powerful the mind is. It can destroy us from within (Depression) even though our bodies appear perfectly healthy or it can make us giddy with delight. Right now my mind is telling me that I hav'nt had a drink, smoke, sex or a vacation in years and that I'm getting sleepy. Tommorow, thoughts of horrible diseases and other obscession will be going though it. The mind...ahhhh!!!!!.

LOL ... yeah ...
I could do with a drink, a smoke, a sex and a vacation! LOL

...eat dessert first, life is uncertain.

Grey,

Your last post was so truth telling, I could not agree with you more!

Kathy