This is by no means a flame, but the subject matter drew such vehement responses that it was eventually dropped into the asbestos lined cavern known as The Pit, you know, just so nobody would get hurt.
I want you to know, Rainbow, that I, too have been suffering from depression for the past 8 years. It’s not bipolar, but severe and clinical. I’m also on Paxil (that’s the med you mentioned, right?) and know the routine with side-effects, sexual dysfunctions, etc. It’s hard for people to understand, isn’t it, when you tell them that this invisible force has the power to incapacitate you. I mean, if you wandered into work with a broken arm, they’d certainly allow you to take the rest of the day off, but try telling your boss that you have to go home because, goddamnit, the suicidal thoughts bouncing around inside your skull have you feeling like your head is going to pop. Get ready for some strange looks.
I’m in college now, 21 years old, and know the toll depression can take. It’s so hard to…well…just friggin’ DO things, isn’t it? I get to where studying is impossible, where the energy of my day, the effort of the moment has been devoted entirely to “feeling better” or “figuring things out,” etc., where I’m simply left drained. Everything else seems inconsequential during those dark times, irrelevant in comparison to the problem and the search for answers, and while the search continues, the rest of your life can fall to the wayside.
I’ve noticed there were some on the BBS were sympathetic to your plight, and it’s quite obvious to someone like me that these are very special individuals demonstrating a voluntary (and beautiful) form of empathy. And then there are those who have had empathy thrust upon them.
I believe in you.
“Why are people always trying to kill me?”
–Homer Simpson