I have been warned that a quilting blog is a terrible place to talk about depression but since I have also wandered into other hot button topics such as of sex on quilts and the flagrant use of the Instant Pot I think it is pretty safe to say that I don’t take all that many recommendations to heart so I am going forward with the post over the wiser counsel of others. You have now been warned.
I like many suffer from depression. Mine is better than others and worse than some and it really does not matter since there are no prizes. I mean imagine if there were, they would be the worst prizes EVER.. I think we can all agree on that. I also happen to have some sort of freaky autoimmune thing that pretends to be Lupus but can’t seem to muster up the gumption to meet all the markers when it comes to testing, but again, no ribbons will be awarded but sometimes it makes me feel rather horrid even if they can’t seem to give it a name. *I* call it Asshole, it seems to fit. You know, on those days when I wake up feeling rotten I can just say, ” My Asshole is here” and it explains a lot, except for those people who also call their ex-spouses “Asshole” and then they just wonder why I am spending so much time with my ex-husband. It can get confusing.
It Looks Like This
Anyway, back to depression, for those who don’t understand depression I think I have come up with a damn fine way to explain it. Have you seen those heartwarming videos circulating around Facebook where the colorblind person is given a pair of those amazing new glasses that allows them to see color. You watch them open the box, ( oh how slow they are… just rip it open already!) then they slip on the glasses and a new world is open to them. COLOR, color everywhere damn-where. They gasp, they cry, they shake at the beauty of it all, it is amazing and our hearts split open in joy for them.
So what if you could see color but were then given glasses that do exactly the opposite? There you are having a rather swell life, lots of color, cake and tequila for everyone then you are given a pair of glasses and you slip them on and all the color goes away. Every freaking bit of it is drained from your brain and you are unable to take the glasses off. Those glasses no matter how much you want them off are stuck to your face and you see nothing but tones of grey. Sure if you quickly flick your eyes way to the side you can see flashes of color for just seconds so you know it is out there but for you it is effectivly gone. For me this is depression. Someone sneaks in and in the middle of the night glues these damn depression glasses to my face so it is not like I can just whip them off and go about my merry way no matter how many people say ” just think of happy things” or “snap out of it”, those glasses are there good and tight.
Butter Rum Lifesavers as the Start of Self Care
Of course now I know a lot of ways to pry the glasses off my face and when I am able to sum up the energy things like a healthy dose of kittens, therapy, medication, self care and ice cream can be a lifesavers ( oh yeah, and Butter Rum lifesavers – like crack, really) and I highly encourage anyone who suffers from depression to try any and all of them since they will help. They might not help the first day and they might need to be tinkered with since medication and Ice cream both come in lots of flavors but there is one out there that is right for you.
For self care I highly suggest all the things that make you feel loved and cared for including time with your sewingmachine if that helps bring back color to your life. On my part I can see my depressive episodes coming on by my lack of desire to sew or quilt. This is my ~ WARNING WARNING WILL ROBINSON ~ and if headed I can often stem off a nasty episode with some serious self care and doing what I need since the truth is depression runs in my family and escaping it was not in the cards for me, but I can keep it at bay. My family crest might as well be the Prozac logo and had it been many generations of women and men in my family tree would have been much better off having had the option for effective medication.
Why I like Drugs
While medication is not the right choice for everyone I could not be more thrilled than to live in a day and age where medication to correct the faulty brain chemistry that lead to depression are available. I am one to skip merrily to my pharmacy and embrace these options as needed and I am not shy about saying that if you need it I support you in doing the same. Also… find a professional someone to talk to.. that is good stuff as well.
The more we normalize the treatment of mental health issues the more we can talk about it at the dinner table the same way your aunt Helen can go on and on about her bunion surgery without people giving her the side-eye and shifting uncomfortably the better off we will all be.
This Shit is Seriously Funny
Nothing made this more clear to me than reading Jenny Lawson’s new book Furiously Happy which deals with her depression and take on life surrounding it. Now I have to warn you that if a potty-mouth and side splitting hilarity coupled with a very dark look at depression are not your cup of tea you will want to pass on this book. In fact I want you to pass on this book if you don’t suffer with depression since honestly this one is a hell of a lot funnier to those of us who know the dark-side and have fought like holy-hell to come back to the color.
So here is the deal, that photo is my copy of Furiously Happy and I want someone to have it. I am even going to write an inscription in it and then I want you to read it and add something to the book and then pass it to someone else who needs it. So sort of like Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants but for a book that might just help you understand yourself better and see your way back to all the amazing color this world holds. I want this for you and for myself.. lets do this thing.
Leave a comment and on the 31st of the month I will pick someone to send my book to and we will get this thing started.
