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brightlotusmoonOh.
I see.
Thanks, brain chemistry and such.
Hey, other people with clinical major depression: It really does get better... but it is a long, long, insane, wild climb to reach the top of the lighthouse. Best to have people who can cheer you on, hold you when needed, remind you why you are awesome. Because the beasts below you deep inside your brain probably will not let you go easily. But that is what proper weaponry is for.
*is wielding drugs and treatments and exercises like swords and spears and possibly like directed-energy weapons, because phasers are cool*
(Look, I know not everyone is big on getting treatments like psychoptherapy and drugs whether pharmaceutical or herbal or holistic, but something needs to happen. It is a long fall and it is a long climb. And being perky with happy thoughts does not count as actual medicine. No, it really doesn't, sorry.)
Sigh.
The anxiety attack was brief and was about nothing, and supplements actually took care of it. The little monster just didn't have much fight in it. But the depressive episode hit like a wild thing, teeth gnashing. No matter how loudly I growled back at it, the beast grew, until it filled the rest of my brain and paced. And so I keep moving, fighting, handling. It is how I was born.
I see.
Thanks, brain chemistry and such.
Hey, other people with clinical major depression: It really does get better... but it is a long, long, insane, wild climb to reach the top of the lighthouse. Best to have people who can cheer you on, hold you when needed, remind you why you are awesome. Because the beasts below you deep inside your brain probably will not let you go easily. But that is what proper weaponry is for.
*is wielding drugs and treatments and exercises like swords and spears and possibly like directed-energy weapons, because phasers are cool*
(Look, I know not everyone is big on getting treatments like psychoptherapy and drugs whether pharmaceutical or herbal or holistic, but something needs to happen. It is a long fall and it is a long climb. And being perky with happy thoughts does not count as actual medicine. No, it really doesn't, sorry.)
Sigh.
The anxiety attack was brief and was about nothing, and supplements actually took care of it. The little monster just didn't have much fight in it. But the depressive episode hit like a wild thing, teeth gnashing. No matter how loudly I growled back at it, the beast grew, until it filled the rest of my brain and paced. And so I keep moving, fighting, handling. It is how I was born.
