Thoughts on Depression

in #steemitmamas6 years ago

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A dry drunk is a person who is an alcoholic who is currently not drinking yet has not received help for their drinking problem.

That's what the Counselor who visited "Drug Class" described it as anyway.

I never liked the definition but I didn't challenge it. I never quite understood my role in that class. I was the teacher, but most of the time it felt like I was being coached into believing I was an alcoholic.

I think about those words a lot. I am scared that her definition is correct. Not because of alcohol and alcoholism, but because of depression. If I had depression, and it was never treated or diagnosed, yet it went away, am I a dry depressed person? That lady and her definitions get under my skin. I get lots of questions running through my mind stemming from her (nonsense?) words. If gestational diabetes means that you are more prone to diabetes in older age, do the baby blues mean you are more prone to depression later on in life?

Is undiagnosed depression just extreme sadness?

If not grooming yourself and letting your house go into disaster are both signs of depression than does putting on make-up in the morning and making sure your dishes are washed mean that you are fighting your disease? Do you even have this disease? Perhaps you are a hypochondriac? Or maybe Western Doctors really do suggest happy pills to everyone?

Is it really depression if a new lipstick makes it better?

Did I really do nothing all day? Dirty dishes means the kids had something to eat. And I am well aware that food doesn't magically appear on your doorstep, unless you cast the spell first, in the form of ordering the deliciousness. The kids are smiling, read lots of books and spend lots of time outside. Which reminds me of the possibility that perhaps it not me that has the problem, but more the person whose perception I let myself listen to.

Is ignoring opinions fighting depression? Or is it looking the other way when a problem is brought to light?

Its just time to keep going for now. Take your medicine in the form of hugs and smiles, kisses and compliments, fruits and veggies, good bacteria, walks and more walks, and counting your blessings.

Its not the same to pretend that things don't bother you. Its not the same to plaster on a smile even though you are dying inside. Its different when you acknowledge, and choose to spend the day in happiness anyway. The bed will be there at night.

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Accepting and loving who we are, at the end of the day what matters is love for our self and love from our family. Blessings!

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