I suffer from depression. I have since I was about 8 years old which is when my family began to disintegrate. I started sleeping a lot and missed school because I didn’t “feel well”. My mom allowed it. She was going through a difficult time with my dad and I don’t think she had the energy to deal with my problems. It became a habit for me and it plagued me throughout my teen years and on into my adulthood. It wasn’t until about 6 years ago that I finally broke that cycle on my own. I used to miss a lot of work because I would get depressed and didn’t feel like facing the day. I would go through bouts of depression that would last for several weeks. My thoughts were dark. I would think about all of the things that I didn’t have, how unfair life was and would constantly wonder “why me?” Why do I have to go through these things? Why can’t I have a nice family, a nice car, nice clothes, and a nice place to live? What did I do wrong in my life that determined that I should have to live this way? I always felt that life was hopeless.

About four years ago, things got really bad for me. I could no longer handle my depression. I used to just push it down and put on a strong face so no one would know how horrible I felt. I always thought I was strong, that I could handle it and control it, but this was different, more serious. My emotional state was like a wild rollercoaster ride with very steep ups and downs. My thoughts had become obsessive like a recording that kept on looping the same thing all day long and I cried nearly every day. It took me almost a year before I sought treatment. I didn’t want to see a psychiatrist and go on medication. To me that was a sign of weakness and I never considered myself a weak person. To me that meant defeat. I couldn’t control it though and I knew I had to do something. It was affecting everything in my life. I went to the doctor and was put on two different medications and after a month of getting used to the side effects, I finally evened out. I was no longer on that wild ride but sailing smoothly through my days. I stopped crying and my thoughts began to become rational again. I felt normal.

It’s taken me several years to get back to feeling like myself again, although I know I’ll never be as strong as I once was. I now consider myself to be unstable and I feel fragile most of the time. Like a delicate glass goblet that needs to be handled carefully to avoid breaking. I’m always close to tears and anything can make me cry. Some days I feel like the weight of the world is resting on my shoulders, waiting for my knees to weaken before it crushes me like a bug. Most of the time I feel okay, I’m taking my medication and the depression is under control, but there are still some days that get dark and I feel that urge to hide and isolate myself from people. I’ve been feeling like that for the last two weeks now, today especially seems dark and that’s why I’m writing this post. It helps me to get this stuff out. I’ll snap out of this soon, I know that for sure. I watch myself carefully, looking for signs of a relapse. If I find that I’m heading back towards that dark void I’ll trot myself down to my doctor in a flash to get it taken care of. I won’t go through this again, not for anything or anyone.

If you think that you are suffering from depression and haven’t gone to get treatment for it, I strongly urge you to do so. It’s going to be a difficult path whichever one you chose, but there is a light at the end of the tunnel. Only thing is that with depression, that light is coming from a freight train. (I borrowed that last line from one of my favorite authors).

How could I ever forget? It was an event that had a very profound effect on me. Never in my lifetime has anything ever shaken me like 9/11 did. My husband and I were getting ready for work as usual. We carpooled at the time and we used to listen to our favorite morning DJ’s Mark and Brian on 95.5 KLOS here in Southern California. We left the house at about 6:45 a.m. We had only driven about 2 miles when the announcer came on the radio giving an update about an airplane that had crashed into one of the towers of the World Trade Center in New York. I remember thinking that this was odd and the image of a small plane like a Cessna came to mind. I didn’t think much of it at the time. As we continued to drive, more reports came in and then they announced that a second plane had struck the other tower. It was at that time that I realized something was wrong. I immediately began to think “high-jacking”.

We were in the fast lane about half-way to my husband’s work when the announcer came on and told us that the first tower had collapsed. It was unreal. Both my husband and I began to cry. The announcer was very shaken and upset as he spoke yet he kept his cool throughout the whole thing. We were shocked. How on earth could the whole tower just collapse? We rode in silence the rest of the way, listening to updates about the events that were going on. Somewhere in there, they also announced that a plane had crashed into the Pentagon as well.

I dropped my husband off at work and was on the freeway on my way to work about 15 minutes later when the announcer came on and told us that the second tower had collapsed. All I could think of were the people in the planes and in the tower. The terror they must have felt. That was what affected me the most. I was empathizing with the people. The rest of the way to work I just felt sick. When I got to my desk, I turned on the radio and listened for the rest of the day. There were so many reports about the number of casualties, who was responsible and such. There were five planes that were reported missing. We heard later about the fourth plane that crashed in a field in Pennsylvania. I knew that day that the world had changed. That my life had changed. I didn’t watch TV at all that week. I didn’t want to see the devastation. I couldn’t handle it. I caught glimpses of it here and there from newspapers and magazines in the stores. I finally watched the news the next Sunday and I cried a lot. It was so awful and so unreal.

I didn’t know anyone that worked in the Towers or the Pentagon. I didn’t know anyone that was in any of the planes that crashed. I didn’t know anyone directly affected by the events of 9/11 at all and yet I still felt as though I was a victim too. America had been attacked and I was an American. I heard it said later that we all became New Yorkers on that day and that was exactly how I felt. I remember the patriotism that came about afterwards. Suddenly the American flag had become popular. You could see them everywhere, especially on cars. I have an image in my mind of the weeks that followed of all of the cars on the freeway that had those little flags attached to their windows or on the antennas. It was a great sight to see. It felt as though we were all pulling together. I think many people felt the same way that I did: proud to be an American. I still am, always have been and always will be. I will never forget what happened because it changed me forever.

Yay, I finally got my laptop back. Woo-hoo! Bonus is that I ended up getting a better laptop than the one I purchased. It happens that somewhere between me shipping it and them receiving it the laptop obtained a deep three inch scratch on the LCD. Now I only submitted the laptop to repair the water damage, so when they notified me that they had to repair a huge mondo scratch (my words, not theirs) on the screen I was dumbfounded. Immediately I felt as though I was being taken advantage of. Thankfully I have the complete coverage warranty and all turned out well. What started out to be a bad thing has turned out to be a very good thing indeed. I am very pleased with my newer, better laptop. Kudos to Dell for taking such good care of me. And thanks to my husband for setting all of this into motion. Hee hee!

It's very sad news about Steve Irwin. I think it's such a loss to the world when someone with so much energy and passion dies. I heard about it this morning and then I read the story of how it happened later at work. He was filming a dive in the ocean when he was stung by a sting ray. His death was captured on film. What a horrible thing for his family to have to deal with. I keep thinking about them and how they must feel. His wife and children weren't with him when he died. My thoughts go out to his family and how they are now left to carry on his work. At least he died doing something he loved. If we could all be so fortunate.