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eunice ann

tales of a girl trying to make sense of it all.

climb out of your hole.

August 18, 2014 by eunice

The loss of Robin Williams last week got me thinking about my own battle with depression and how hard it was just to admit what was going on with me. I remember my doctor in Seattle always asking me if I thought I might be depressed. It was in my chart that I had a family history (for those of you that don’t know, my dad is diagnosed type 1 bipolar, which had previously been diagnosed as severe clinical depression), and I’m sure that she was just doing her job, but the question was always framed in such a way that it almost felt accusatory. I understand why so many people are afraid to admit that they might have this horrible disease.

I always lied to her and faithfully defended that although I was exhibiting many of the symptoms, I was fine. I even recall my ex-husband asking me how I could possibly be depressed? Wasn’t I happy? Didn’t he make me happy? We had just gotten married and he could not understand how the circumstances of our life could lend itself to a feeling of depression.

The thing that most people don’t understand about depression is that it isn’t a matter of happiness or gratitude – it’s that in spite of all those things, you’ve still got an overwhelming need to crawl into a hole and be alone. I often wonder if the migraines I experience are a symptom of that self-exclusion; some way for me to make it ok to want to be alone in a dark room all day. They were the worst at a point in my life when my depression went untreated (you know, back in Seattle when I was lying to my doctor about my mental health). I don’t really know what hurts worst, the physical pain of depression or the emotional pain of being a stigma, an outcast, someone who is labeled as crazy.

I will never forget three years ago when I finally “caved” and answered the doctor’s assessment questions honestly for the first time in a decade. They don’t feel so accusatory or direct anymore, but it still sucked. It was like I walked out of that room with a giant stamp on my forehead for all to see: DEPRESSED. I would walk about town with my head hanging low, as if trying to hide my scarlet “A” so that no one would look at me with pity or disgust. The thing is, no one saw me any differently that day. Or any other day.

I went home that day and admitted to my “sister-wife” (my affectionate nickname for my very dear friend whom I lived with for a short time when I relocated back to Denver that year) what had happened at my doctor’s appointment. I was devastated. I had a fear of becoming my dad. She hugged me and admitted that she was also diagnosed with severe depression and was taking the exact medication I was prescribed. Suddenly, I felt more normal – as though this stigma of the diagnosis became as banal as “has a cavity,” or “high blood pressure.” I no longer felt like an outcast of society.

Once the meds kicked in, I felt human again. I still have ups and downs, but most of the time, I feel pretty darn good.

Depression does not discriminate. The best way to make it through is to be open and honest with yourself and others about who you are and what you’re going through. Don’t be too proud to ask for help.

As for the rest of you that are lucky enough not to be tortured by this disease, I offer you the following advice: Love more. Judge less. Allow yourself to be vulnerable and don’t be afraid to seek help. If you see someone who has fallen, be the first to help them up. Depression kills. Kindness and compassion saves lives.

 

 

girl power.
things my shoulder injury has taught me.

Comments

  1. kraaftshaak says

    August 31, 2014 at 10:15 pm

    eunice, I enjoyed this article. the discussion that is finally happening in the world about mental health is LONG over due. i wish we did not need to experience these losses in order to be able to bring about these discussions, but if there can be good in dark moments, there it is!
    thank you for having the courage to share – we all need to know we are not alone in these struggles.
    i appreciate getting to know you more and more.
    hugs

  2. Zsuzsa Karoly-Smith says

    September 1, 2014 at 10:42 am

    A very thought-provoking post, Eunice. I especially like your closing paragraph.

  3. Kim says

    February 17, 2016 at 7:40 pm

    I’m just seeing this now. So, so good.

    You know for the longest time my mom had trouble admitting my brother was bipolar. Not because she was ashamed but because she didn’t want other people misjudging him. The sad part is she was right to worry.

    Depression and other illnesses that affect our mental health are prevalent but are often hidden due the stigma they carry. People aren’t getting the help they need. The more we talk about it, the more people will come out of hiding and get the help they need.

    Thank you for writing this and sharing your journey. #stopthestigma

    • euniceann says

      February 17, 2016 at 9:12 pm

      Thank you, Kim! It still pains me to know that we lost Doug, in part because of his diagnosis and the stigma that comes with it. I keep hoping that we can honor his story, and others like it.

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Dear Grown Ass Women™ Ambassador

dear grown ass women ambassador

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eunicebrownlee

In honor of women’s celebration month, I’m res In honor of women’s celebration month, I’m resharing the first piece I ever had published, which I wrote about my amazing daughter, who is likely mortified that I am posting this right now (sorry not sorry kid. I love you.) 
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I was scrolling through my feed and came across a post @cpamgo217 had shared from @thekindredvoice (then Holl and Lane). It was about mental health and it stopped me in my tracks, as most posts on mental health do. I checked out their website and it was love at first sight. I noticed they were accepting pitches on the theme of “educate.”
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I had never pitched a publication before, and at that point in my life, barely considered myself a writer. But I had a nugget of an idea that I wanted to explore after an interaction with @calleylane so I sent in a pitch. 
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And they accepted it. I was floored. 
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What most people don’t know is that at the time I pitched and wrote this article, I was amidst the unending court nightmare that was my life for the majority of 2017 and I honestly didn’t know that I had the tenacity to make it to the end of that battle still standing. But I did. She did. We both did. And we are stronger for it. 
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Link to essay in bio. https://www.thekindredvoice.com/blog/2017/8/15/teaching-our-girls-to-become-strong-women
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—
Image descriptions: Image one is a mixed race girl with brown skin and long brown curly hair. She is wearing a denim coat and a coral top. Her arms are crossed and she’s standing in a field. 📷 cred: @knight_light_photography // Image two is the same girl, older, taking a selfie. She is wearing a black tee and her hair pulled back in a ponytail. You can see a closet and a TV in the background. 
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