Going Manic

Before the year 2000, I never thought about Depression.  I knew folks suffered from it.  I watched both of my parents deal with it as they approached the end of their run on the planet. Before 2000, I had not yet felt the crush of the dark pit as it wrapped itself around me.

It was in 2001 or 2002, I was talked into being part of the first run of Interferon based therapy for Hepatitis. The regimen called for a year of many painful self injections and pills that made me feel about as shitty as a human can feel. It was pure unadulterated misery for me. I lasted a couple of months.

Seems of all the nasty side affects, down at the bottom of the list in print so small, I had to read it with a magnifying glass; there it was.  11% of the trial patients experienced suicidal ideation.  Of course, I did not find this out until I had already attempted suicide.  Of course, being a rookie, a NooB, an inexperienced suicide hobbyist, I failed.  Half ass attempt for sure, but it certainly scared the shit out of me.  I dropped out of the program.

Ever since my run in with those bad pharmaceuticals prescribed for my hepatitis,  I have had to deal with on again, off again bouts of depression. Thinking back, I was probably depressive to a degree before the medicine, it was only after taking the meds,  the depression magnified and now dealing with it is a constant concern. I wake up many mornings and wonder if today is the start of another depression bender.

The up side........ yeah, there is actually an upside I think .............. The upside is that now, as if to balance out my life's biorhythms, the low notes are offset by wonderful high notes.  I get to experience the joy of mania.  Up is often really up; I'm flying, thoughts move so quickly I have trouble getting a handle on them.  But when I am able to grab one, my focus is impressive.  I guess even bad medicine can have a silver lining.

A friend asked me a few years back what did Depression feel like.  I am sure everyone has their own notion of what it is or isn't.  But I told him that for me it was like existing as nothing, or maybe a kind of non-existence with my eyes open.  Nothing matters.  Nobody cares, least of all me.  The out there world is a fantasy land that is maybe or maybe not just a figment of my imagination.

Hmm .........

And that brings up an entirely new subject. Is Reality nothing but a group figment of our imaginations?

Keep it 'tween the ditches ...............................................................

_________________________

A song I have always felt was about what I called "being low" when I was younger was "Paint it Black" by the Rolling Stones. When I looked it up with google, they agreed. So enjoy this tune from the mid 1960's.