Bipolar Depression is a Succubus

I never thought I would live past age 50. I’ve had relentless, suicidal, psychotic depression since age 19. It plagued me. No matter how hard I tried to get rid of it, the depression just kept on dogging me.

Many loving relationships. Two marriages. Four colleges. Japan. Hawaii. Hong Kong. France. England and eventually China.

That damn depression would not let me be. Meds, for a myriad of reasons didn’t work for me. One day I realized that I would have to LIVE with this depression in order to survive this depression.

I created a plan in 1998 and have used it every day since to keep myself alive. It’s hard work, but it works.

A few minutes ago, a big, freaking bucket of depression dumped itself on my head. NOTHING is wrong. It is simply the chemicals in my brain.

I have genetic depression. It’s no different than diabetes. My brain doesn’t work. It is wonky. It creates emotions and thoughts that feel real, but they are NOT.

When it dumped on me a few minutes ago, I said,”Oh $&! That feels awful!” I cried a bit and reminded myself that I have bipolar and it has been VERY active during this pandemic. I will probably have a few suicidal thoughts later as this is the typical pattern.

My depression is about 20% of what it used to be. I use the ideas in Take Charge and Get it Done and I found a med that works. Meds alone are not enough.

The depression is terrible, but I have taught myself to FIGHT the unreal feelings and thoughts of this succubus illness.

It takes a lot of my energy and so much fo my time, but I choose a life with a bucket of depression once in a while than a life where I was basically swimming in depression for 20 years.

You can survive depression. We can do this.

I have been here before and I will be here again. It is simply an illness.



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