How did you find unique ways of coping DURING depression? -A young woman's personal narrative

[lucy66]

As a Media/ Communications student, I have always been told to write about 'what I know'. Sadly for me, that has been depression but I'd like to know how others found unique ways of getting through daily tasks and surviving depression. I wrote this Personal Narrative for a journalism class , however, I hope that others can find similarities and reassurance within it...

A Sleepless Prison  

 Experiencing true, euphoric joy for the first time in years, I feel like a prisoner. Ignoring the shred of razor wire, deafening howl of alarms and searchlights harsh glare I make my escape into the ‘real’ world.  A world where my senses are awakened and my mind indulges guiltlessly in the joy of living. Leaving behind my jailer, I revel in the smell of dusty horses and leather, the silken softness of cats fur and dew-soaked mornings spent wrapped in a blanket on the veranda, gazing out over the farm with steaming coffee warming my fingertips. I live my life as a fugitive, trading in a new currency of smiles and rationality I am rewarded two-fold by the lit up gaze and benevolent grins I receive in return. All the while I remain wary of my captor, lurking in my minds shadows, waiting for me to slip and fall.   My jailor, the one that has pursued me, the one that has haunted me has a name, yet no body, a motive but no soul. My tormentor is depression. Some people think that depression numbs the mind, makes the rhythm of life flow in slow motion, but my life became punctuated by constant thought. Although I didn’t wear an orange jumpsuit, my mind was a cell and I occupied my time there marking my faults like chalk strokes on the wall and peering through the bars.  I attempted to read the consciousness of others and procure what they thought of me. How they judged.   Constantly seeking the purpose in everything, I found value in nothing. Unless something was a means to an end, I found it pointless –fun was the first thing to go, overtaken by a lethargic desire to simply ‘exist’ in a world that was no longer mine but devoid of control. Like breaking stones in the prison yard, everyday tasks chiseled away at my resolve and even minor criticisms shattered my will like a sledgehammer.   Sleep became an elusive prize, a battle won only by exhaustion. Each toss and turn made morning an occasion greeted by relief followed shortly after by the realization of another day ahead. I awoke like a dog, exited by the return of his owner, only to watch him walk away.   I remember climbing out my bedroom window night after night, tip-toeing my way down the path through a maze of pots and rogue tree limbs and hazily pushing my weary body through the wires of the back fence. A low whinny acknowledged my presence as I slid in my headphones and shuffled into position on my horses broad back. Falling off was nothing compared to the pain of being trapped in my razor-wired mind so there I sat, the repetitive pulse of the music drowning out my thoughts with only the moon to gaze down on us. He became my sole confidante, never judging, never telling, only bobbing his head occasionally to pick at the grass or shaking his mane as if to shake me out of my turmoil.   Climbing back into bed, the seconds turned to hours, the fluorescent glow of my alarm clock mocking me as each minute flicked by as a rearrangement of green bars on blackened screen. Such had become my life –minutes past marking out tasks endured and taking precedence over joys to come. I trudged on, trapped in the dreary monotony of daily life.  An empty shell, sucked dry of the colour and vibrancy it once contained only to be replaced by the harsh purple shadows beneath my eyes and grey cloud looming overhead.   Coffee became as valuable to me as liquid gold, a faithful mainstay allowing me to function just well enough to divert suspicion that all was not well in my world. I had become a master of falsified emotions, going through the motions of social niceties. In a caffeinated daze, I would nod when prompted, mutter hurried responses to queries and on occasion, force my lips into a submissive smile.   My eyes gave me away. No amount of concealer or coats of mascara could erase the shadows beneath them or weary glaze, even so, meeting the gaze of another proved my most difficult obstacle. I felt like a nocturnal creature, emerging against my will from the safety of darkness to a place where every glance was a threat and the sunlight blinded me with its painful whiteness.   Feigned enthusiasm and an overt eagerness to please became my weapons of choice against these perceived threats. I may have been the only inmate in the enclosure of my mind, yet everyone and everything, my jailor warned me, were out to kill. Superior to me in intelligence, looks and vivacity, my friends and family became to me like a panel of judges. They sat condemning my faults as the jurors watched on, my teachers, peers and neighbors amongst them.   Like acid burning away at my skin, the pain of scrutiny, real or perceived, became a burden too heavy for my aching limbs to support. Exhausted, I finally submitted to the probing questions of a doctor, tears tumbling down my cheeks where constant streams had formed well-worn furrows, their salty warmth a strange comfort.   Medicated, my world seemed suddenly calm. My pain was numbed and my captor anesthetised but not destroyed. I started going to the gym, setting free my body on the treadmill with my irrational fears behind me as motivation –setting free my mind –albeit temporarily.   Eventually, I ridded my self of the tablets that had obscured my view of the world, smothering me like a protective mother, too afraid to let her child experience the world’s pains, yet preventing them from experiencing it at all. I started to talk. As if learning to speak again –to connect with another on a level that transcended the weather, homework or superficiality –topics I had once deemed safe. I called friends for enjoyment, to share in dreams, desires, daily highlights in place of the cold drone of complaints and mental ailments.   Most important of all, I evicted my captor from his post in my consciousness, changing the locks, one walk, one heartfelt discussion and one act of self-belief at a time. Sunshine is no longer a taunting contrast to the darkness that once shrouded my outlook, its warm rays permeate my skin, imparting their uplifting vigor as they radiate to my core.