I am now capable of actually enjoying things. Thank you, Paxil.
I can’t say that I experienced clinical depression or chronic depression as others can- I was never diagnosed and felt it most heavily in my teen years (young age of 20 now), but I think that what I experienced and what others do might be comparable, at least chemically, regardless of what caused it. It was like a crushing despair- everything felt like it was going wrong, I felt like I had no one to turn to or to ask for help, friends at school were pulling away, my family life was complicated and everything felt so hopeless, like my whole body was numb. Sometimes I’d have trouble accepting it because I wanted things to change so badly and I didn’t know what to do or how to escape. I won’t get into personal details, but things did start to change for me, possibly as I got older but there were other factors. I found someone I could talk to and from there pulled my way up and out, repaired old relationships that I thought I’d lost and generally stood up for myself when before I’d felt helpless.
I experienced it once again in my late teens, after a gap of about 2 years that I again had to pull myself out of. I wonder if it’s possible to compare the chemical state of my brain now to someone who has had medication to correct it, but I can offer my own experiences either way- it feels freeing. I think knowing the pain I used to feel, the crushing weight like the world was squeezing the air out of me only makes more concrete my appreciation for how things are in the world. I think I appreciate the small details in my life, and value them more than I might have otherwise. I also think it was my own actions that helped me- I can’t say that someone with an actual medical problem could do what I did, but when I experienced depression the second time, I got through it by myself, and I think knowing that I was the one that ended it means something to me.
In case anyone’s interested in what I did, I started by identifying what was wrong with my life- what caused my anxieties and despair. What I hated about myself and about my life. Every regret I had and every complaint I could make about myself, and I took that list and made a new list of everything I wanted it to be instead, everything I wanted to change and I systematically forced myself to become that list. It was often hard and grueling, but I held onto the idea that I would come out the other side cured of the pain I was feeling, and it helped me forget it, and when I finally did emerge I felt as if I was a completely different person, someone I could like and be proud of, and it felt like all the pain I felt was left behind like an old shell.
It can be complicated because there are so many variables involved.
For instance, through most of my life I learned how to cope pretty well with my depression. I was still struggling with the fallout of some shit I went through so I don’t know that I was ever really not depressed, but I was pretty okay, all things considered. There was a LOT of introspection and learning how to articulate what was wrong and what happened to me, which is an ongoing thing since therapy isn’t really an option, and I think it helped keep my head above water until a couple of years ago. I crashed hard and I just couldn’t get back up on my own. Even now, on meds for a year, I’m not doing as well as I was a few years ago.
I don’t know why it’s different now but I’m pretty sure finally admitting I need help and getting it saved my life. I still clearly have coping skills, they just aren’t enough anymore. Now part of my struggle is realizing that medication clearly is not enough to fix the problem, and figuring out what to do now.
I am currently working through anxiety, ADD, and depression, and have been for the last 10-15 years. I’m on meds, in therapy, have a psychiatrist, etc.
But recently, I’m experiencing some sort of shift. For the first time, I thought, “I don’t want to be sick anymore.” 
I’ve always defined myself as the “problem child” in my group of friends - I’m the one who’s touchy, I’m the one with the diagnosis, you know. I’m the limiting factor, I’m the buzzkill.
My best friend recently told me that I’m much more reasonable than another (not mentally ill) friend in our group… And that I’m more self-aware, as well (which I’ve had to work HARD to become).
A day or two after that I started thinking, hey, maybe I am really starting to get better! WOW! 
:fingers crossed:
I don’t think I’ve said much about my own depression, but I’ve had a long few days, I’m sleep deprived, and beer, so here goes…
I have extremely seasonal depression. Left to my own devices, for all of January and February I will sleep for 12+ hours a day. I will spend my waking hours wishing I was asleep and maybe watching TV or trying to find vaguely entertaining things on the internet to pass the time. If I was feeling super ambitious, I might manage to shower and interact with other people for an hour or two. Anything more is the Hardest Fucking Thing In The World.
Looking back on my time in college, the patterns is completely obvious in retrospect. I’d start each new year pretty strong, but I’d always start falling behind as I moved into November and December. But I’d usually manage to end up with decent results, since I started each semester on the right foot professors would give me a little flexibility at the end of the semester – deadlines extended a few days when I asked, end-of-term papers and exams graded leniently because I was doing such a good job at the beginning of the semester.
Then, in a cruel twist of fate, my college had a January term, where students were expected to pursue unconventional projects. I failed the first three of these, and only past the fourth because I started a project the previous summer that I could keep going by showing up and going through the motions.
In each spring semester, I’d start by pretty much not going to classes. Eventually though, during the first sunny week in March or April, I’d suddenly have the motivation to fix all the problems I’d racked up. Instead of being filled with apathy and despair, my brain would automatically start problem solving. I’d approach the professors that I’d been completely blowing off for a few months, and when they agreed to give me a chance to catch up, I’d finish a couple months’ worth of reading and homework in a weekend. BOOM, fixed! And with each challenge and problem I solved, I’d just want to move on to the next to accomplish one more thing.
I’ve since manged to get proper treatment and cultivate habits such that things aren’t so dire in the winter. If I set up and maintain a good routine as winter begins, I can muddle through well enough (though I’ll be eating a lot of frozen food and my living space will be in pretty bad shape).
Each winter, as I start to come out of my not-so-terrible-now depression, it feels like the reward-seeking part of my brain is waking up.
In January, showing up to work and feeding myself still feels like The Hardest Fucking Thing In The World, but with good habits I can keep showing up for the daily grind. At the slightest setback, I want to crawl back to bed and sleep for a week.
Towards the end of February, part of me starts wanting to Accomplish Something. But the big challenges in my life are still overwhelming, so instead I’ll start looking for an easily obtained sense of accomplishment. This might be some sort of video game at first, but eventually I’ll graduate to catching up on all the housework I’ve been neglecting. In March and April, I’ll start tackling the big projects that have been nagging at me for months. I’ll feel a genuine sense of reward and satisfaction for meaningful challenges and accomplishments. And by June, I’ll be leaping out of bed at the crack of dawn, ready to take on the day.
(HI WIFE! IT’S 9 AM ON A SATURDAY AND YOU’RE FINALLY AWAKE! I WOKE UP AT 4:30 AND STARTED WRITING A MANUSCRIPT THAT I WAS THINKING ABOUT LAST NIGHT AND THEN I STARTED TO GET HUNGRY BUT WE WERE OUT OF SYRUP SO I MADE A TOPPING OUT OF ALL THE LEFTOVER FRUIT WE HAD AND I FIGURED I SHOULD MAKE BELGIAN WAFFLES TO GO WITH IT!)
Such a relief to be out from under the cloud of depression. I have more energy, less anger and the normal ups and downs.
The secret to overcoming depression is . . . Get a dog and find religion!
Well it was for me. I needed to get out of bed to care for the dog. I found a religion that fit my heart and mind. I love the dog and gave up on god. Worked just great and still working. May you all find the secret on your own.
I suffer from depression, which prevented me from actually living my life. I couldn’t keep a job, couldn’t finish anything I started, and spent most of my free time in bed sleeping or crying. I suffered from severe insomnia which lead to sleep deprivation which had mental and physical effects. I eventually started actively trying to ruin my relationship with my fiance, I’m still not sure why. I ended up quitting my job, breaking up with my fiance, and moving to another state for 2 years. While there, a car accident resulted in me being put on citalopram for panic attacks. It took less than a month for my life to completely turn around.
A year later I was back home, back with the most amazing man in the world, and preparing to start college (again). In the 5 years since I returned home, I have remained on the same dose of the same medication, completed 2 associates degrees, passed both my national board tests for Respiratory Therapy, and am 2 weeks from starting a 7 month residency in the top hospital in the country. I am always happy. I can handle stress (like a completely neurotic and bipolar boss who takes her unhappiness out on her employees). I have hobbies. I actually spend time with family and friends. When something is bothering me, I nearly always know what it is and I’m able to sit down and talk to my fiance about it instead of brooding. My insomnia is nearly under control.
The only time therapy helped me was right after my car accident and that was based on helping the panic attacks around big machinery (I was a machine operator so big problem). The medication has been amazing and I dread the day it stops working though I know I will never again deny that I have a problem.
Whatever it feels like, it’s not what it feels right now. Sometimes I have energy and am excited about things. Sometimes I can make priorities of what I do, but not today.
I understand how you feel about phone calls. It can take me a long time (perhaps up to several hours) to get up the nerve to make a phone call, when the phone call is important to me. In addition, sometimes my voice “shakes” when I initially call the person, and I have a fear even before making the call that my voice will shake, and indeed a lot of the time my voice does shake. Luckily, the person that we are calling does not know all of the emotional crap we went through, just to make the call.
Imagine being lost in a fog. You don’t know where you are or how to get home. You know you will face challenges, and you worry excessively about them. For me, my medication makes it feel like the fog is lifted. I can see where I am and and feel like I can handle the challenges in my way. Attending a therapy group helps me find my way back home.
I was diagnosed with moderate clinical depression after a long period of high stress on the job, coupled with a miscarriage.
After therapy, and some time, I came out of it. The best way to describe it was more that I was back to normal. The feelings of anxiety, hopelessness, sadness and a sort of “trapped” feeling gradually dissipated, to be replaced by my usual more confident, optimistic and cheerful self.
Personally, I’m still depressed and anxious, but it seems less severe since I’ve been on medication. I am occasionally optimistic about my life, and make plans that are more sophisticated than “fuck it”. And I no longer have persistent visions of killing myself. (I never really wanted to commit suicide. But I still saw it in my mind’s eye frequently enough to disturb me and push me towards getting help.)
I take mirtazipine (misspelled) for my ‘suicidal ideation’.
I’m not certain that meds can overcome rational thought processes.
This.
My experience with this was different. For me, meds turned off all my anxiety and fear and horrible self-doubt, so I was stable enough to really focus on what was going on with me and why I had certain behaviors and reactions and emotions. I couldn’t get my house in order when it was burning down.
I feel… normal. In social interactions, I’m not worried about whether or not I’m being judged, if I’m saying the right thing, if the person likes me, if I’m funny enough… I’m just chill and easy-going.
I’m more of a jerk (no longer frantic people-pleaser) but I’m less withdrawn.
Basically, what I felt when depressed was constant, unending dread. About everything. It’s gone now.
My depression was always situational (the I’ll never have a long term relationship variety). Since my wife and I got together things have, until recently, been good except for a few af the bumps married folks have. Since the work stuff I talked about in Mundane Pointless Stuff I’ve had some pretty bad anxiety. My wife said I looked like I was a hundred years old when I left for work Monday.