A few weeks ago, it came to my attention that I’m not as ok as I thought I was.
Dave came upstairs to find me curled up in bed crying my eyes out. I always say that he’s the kind of guy that you want around in a crisis, and he was true to form this time. He climbed into bed with me and gave me a big hug, letting me cry it out.
The conversation when I finally calmed down went a little like this:
Dave: “So, what’s up?”
Me: “This. Everything. Why me. It’s not fair. Life sucks. All I do is work and sleep. I don’t want to live like this. And I’ve not actually had a relapse since I found out I was diagnosed. I wish I was still going on, blissfully unaware, because I wouldn’t be feeling like this.”
Dave: “Your body has been through loads this year Joey. We knew it would be tough but it will be worth it in the long run. It’ll be ok.”
Me: “It doesn’t change the fact that life is so boring. I’ve lost my zest for life and I don’t know who I am anymore.”
Dave: “It’s ok. I don’t mind. We’ll be ok.”
Honestly. Always the voice of reason and I don’t know where I would be without him. He’s absolutely right. What’s really getting me down is that I’ve been using lots of annual leave to just sleep. And my weekends are just spent sleeping, apart from running a couple of errands. I sleep, and I work. Not the life I signed up for, and I imagine it’s certainly not the relationship that Dave signed up for. There’s a lot of guilt around the impact on him.
After spending some time reflecting, I’ve come up with some options for how I can make this work as we go into the New Year, but right now, I don’t know the feasibility of them, so watch this space for an update on that.
Other indications that I’m not as alright as I could be is that I have neglected my blog. I just haven’t felt up to writing. A lack of creativity is definitely apparent. I’ve been spending a lot of time on my own. I’m the kind of person that as soon as you text me, I’ll respond within minutes, but I’ve just not been up for getting into conversation. Generally a supportive friend, and happy to coach people close to me through difficult times and give advice, I just don’t feel up for taking on other people’s problems. I can’t be bothered to engage in trivial conversation. I prefer silence. If I’m honest, I’ve just not been feeling like me. I’m spaced out and so tired all the time. Dave’s working away a lot which is making me feel sad because I miss him, but it’s also giving me much needed space on my own which is good for my soul. Apart from the people closest to me, I’m just not feeling very “people-y” right now. It’s nothing personal. It’s just what I’m going through.
On paper, I’ve got all the symptoms of depression.
Depression is common in people with MS. The first (and perhaps obvious) reason is that dealing with symptoms can really get you down. When people ask how you are you have options. Just gloss over how you’re feeling, in spite of feeling physically awful. Or you can be honest. Either option messes with your head. However you approach it you end up feeling rubbish. If I choose to hide it, nobody actually knows that I’m struggling. But then I’m mad that they’re not being mindful of how things are for me that day (yes, yes I know. Not their fault. I should have been honest.) But if I tell the truth, I risk sounding like a broken record. Because I’m always dealing with something in varying degrees of severity. Even on the good days. I honestly feel like I can’t win!
The second reason that people with MS suffer with depression is because the nerves relating to mood are damaged and sending the wrong signals to your brain. This ends up making you feel depressed for no apparent reason. It can do with this all sorts of moods, not just depression and people with MS are prone to dramatic and unexplained mood swings.
When I last saw Danny (my MS nurse), he gave me the details for an MS Counsellor. Through talking, he suggested that perhaps I’d not gone through a grieving process yet. I need to grieve the health that I’ve lost. Maybe future possibilities too. At the time, I didn’t really agree, but just a few weeks later and I’ve done a complete U-Turn on that. I definitely need to do some work on coming to terms with the past year. Whilst I regularly think of so many positives that MS has given me, I can’t help but think that they’re distraction techniques. So much of my positive approach to what I have been through has been about how I’ve distracted myself from tackling this head on. And maybe a little bit of denial. For a long time, it felt surreal. It didn’t really hit me. I’m thinking about it less now, but when I do think about it, I’m a cross between disbelief and distraught.
So what’s next for me? The medication I’m on for neuropathic pain, is also an anti-depressant. I’ve been in touch with the MS Counsellor and will also explore options through the employee assistance programme at work. I’m finally ready to work through accepting my condition.
2 thoughts on “MS and Depression.”
I wonder how many MSers commit suicide waiting for SSI Disability. Rediculous