"Hell and Back" -Depression and life in New Orleans

This is a sobering, compelling story. Please take the time to read.


Hell And Back
A chronicler of the storm is crushed by its sorrows. A skeptic on depression is consumed by a disease he doesn't believe in. A man teetering on the cliff finds his salvation in an unexpected place: modern medicine.
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Chris Rose


I pulled into the Shell station on Magazine Street, my car running on fumes. I turned off the motor. And then I just sat there. There were other people pumping gas at the island I had pulled into and I didn't want them to see me, didn't want to see them, didn't want to nod hello, didn't want to interact in any fashion. Outside the window, they looked like characters in a movie. But not my movie. I tried to wait them out, but others would follow, get out of their cars and pump and pay and drive off, always followed by more cars, more people. How can they do this, like everything is normal, I wondered. Where do they go? What do they do? It was early August and two minutes in my car with the windows up and the air conditioner off was insufferable. I was trapped, in my car and in my head.

So I drove off with an empty tank rather than face strangers at a gas station.

. . . . . . .

Before I continue this story, I should make a confession. For all of my adult life, when I gave it thought -- which wasn't very often -- I regarded the concepts of depression and anxiety as pretty much a load of hooey. I never accorded any credibility to the idea that such conditions were medical in nature. Nothing scientific about it. You get sick, get fired, fall in love, get laid, buy a new pair of shoes, join a gym, get religion, seasons change -- whatever; you go with the flow, dust yourself off, get back in the game. I thought anti-depressants were for desperate housewives and fragile poets. I no longer feel that way. Not since I fell down the rabbit hole myself and enough hands reached down to pull me out. One of those hands belonged to a psychiatrist holding a prescription for anti-depressants. I took it. And it changed my life.

Maybe saved my life.

This is the story of one journey -- my journey -- to the edge of the post-Katrina abyss, and back again. It is a story with a happy ending -- at least so far.

much more:

http://www.nola.com/news/t-p/frontpage/index2.ssf?/base/living-0/116149796856910.xml&coll=1

A very eloquent and moving story of going through possibly one of the worst, and most misunderstood, conditions of human existence.

I didn't live through the most devastating natural disaster in the history of our country, but I've lived through depression.

I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.

Julie

Depression, my ass. It is such a profound pain, the likes of which those who haven't experienced its ravages can have no understanding. It is not possible to understand it unless you have lived with it and for most of us who are lifers, we have almost died with it. I am on lifetime medication and I am grateful for the opportunity to continue life while enjoying it. And I'm glad he touched on the misbegotten belief that those that take anti-depressants have blunted feelings. My feelings, including rage and fury at this maladministration and our freefall into fascism are not blunted in any way. When I get my feelings hurt, I cry. When I see my partners playing together, I feel profound joy. None of it is blunted. None. What is eased and even often erased is the death dealing disease I have had most of my life.

Profoundly good article from someone who has been there.

Kicked and recommended.

I was dealing with panic attacks and anxiety since 1987 . But in 2004 oct when i was fired from a 12 year long job I began my downfall . i did'nt go through anything but anger at first and when on with unemployment for 6 months and selling personal things to keep going for year . THen I finally found another job and was getting back into life .

This job was short lived , 5 months and I was laid off . Again while job searching I had this time 3 months of unemployment and sold more stuff . suddenly after 5 months of endless interviews and no job I began to loose myself . The more time went on the worst this has become . I am at 8 months now and in a deep depression trying to find help to get out of this . Something inside me has died and I am scared to death I won;t make it . My wife is unable to work and depressed as well so here we are both in a sort of suspension and lost state .

Should be a must-read