Depression and the deep deep well of hope

The other day I did a video about depression and it got such a warm welcome, I thought it might be time to share my journey into and out of depression.

It may help someone else see out of the darkness, to reach past the pain, to strive to live in spite of.

First you should know and understand all drugs are mind altering, chemical altering and mental illness is closely linked to substance abuse.

At the time my world began to spiral out of control, I worked in the clubs, had been homeless on and off since 1988 when my mother died.  My two youngest boys were in Florida with their dad, my oldest with my grandmother, atleast I think they were.  My memory doesn't get to serve me as well as it has in the past.

I met a young man in the clubs and we fell in love.

He was charming, intelligent, funny, reminded me of someone I loved a long long time ago, who had completely broken my heart.  He had the same body language, oh my gosh!  He was good looking and all the girls were after him, I later found out, because we worked together for nearly two years before we got married and absolutely ruined every thing.

I was a raging alcoholic, had the dope boy spending the night all the time, with all the other rag muffins I often drug home.

He bought me a pool table when we bought our house, but I had to go to the clubs to get people to come over.

I also sobered up for eight months during this period, took up art, making things, being creative.

Everything was beautiful, most of the time.  There were several loud and drunken episodes, me of course, coming home from the club, completely gone.

All in all we were best of friends, lovers, companions, team mates and co workers, for two years.

He bought me the house I wanted, I was the tale end of the Cinderella story, had never really had anything, now a new house, man I love, kids home with us the second year.

We got married, four months later I got my walking papers.

He shut me out, made it very clear he didn't want me at the bar where we worked.  I went back to dancing, sober, it's what I did.  It's where he met me, what you see is what you get. At the end I had three kids to feed and it was over between us. 

Little did I know he was cheating on me with one of my friends and who knows else.

All the while there is this cat and mouse game going on.  I'm sick, depressed, laying on the couch for days at a time, because quitting the club has incapacitated me in every way.  He's quietly and subtly driving me out of my mind and all anyone sees is I'm crazy and I've been out of control for a while.

It started with the middle son, not making friends.  Every kid has atleast one friend.  Not my Marshall, so off to the psychologist we go.

Nothing wrong with Marshall but mama is all screwed up.

Doctors and appointments and medication.

The damage has already been done to my relationship, because I'm completely out there, hearing voices, doing devious stuff, got arrested for stealing a $100.

The entire living situation ended one night, with me being in jail.

I remember going to the bar next door to wait for a ride, it was winter, I had on a full length mink coat, a got blood t shirt, stockings and thigh high boots and a black mini skirt.  

I remember feeling really bad when I got in the truck, rolling down the window to get a big gulp of fresh air.  He's sent Lanesha to get me, didn't even come for me himself.

He probably met me in the parking lot, detouring me from going inside the bar and that's very likely what pissed me off and sent me into a rage.

He said I had my back to the door, kicking him as he drove down the highway.

He called the police on me.

I have a flash of no boots, no stockings, barefoot kicking out the windshield of his truck.  A windshield I'd bought not three days earlier because a truck blew a tire out on the expressway and crashed the other one.

I remember kicking someone with my left foot, all three little toes breaking with the force.  I remember being cuffed to a road sign and it seemed like we were forever on the side of the road.

The next thing I remember is being pepper sprayed, can't breathe, eyes burning, on fire, then some one hit me with the water hose and it was so cold I thought I was gonna have a heart attack.

Another flash of reaching into my pocket and finding a lighter, wishing I had a damn cigarette.

I woke up the next morning, covered in blood, thought I'd killed my husband, no memory of the night before.

No one died thank goodness, but the marriage was over, the children had been moved out during the night and once again I was sitting in jail.  This time for first degree arson, assault and battery, assault and battery on 7 police officers, destruction of county property, and other charges.

He later told me I spiked my wedding rings in his face, said things to him he would never forget and he gave me the option of reconciling four months later, by then I'd met someone else and didn't want to go back.

On December 29th, 1999, I had to turn myself in to serve a year for $100.  I had to leave my three sons with my young boyfriend, who immediately forgot what he was supposed to be doing the minute my grandmother gave him money to catch our bills up.  If she'd paid the bills directly, who knows what would have happened, but alas he took the money, ran off with a girl I danced with, bought another house in another city with my money and forgot all about my sons, ages ten, eleven and fourteen at the time.

Prison taught me I never want to go to prison again and my mind is entirely too active to be locked up somewhere.

I came home to total devastation.

I'd rather not go any further than saying I listened to the sound track to the Crowe and Guns N Roses Appetite for Destruction for the next year.  I can remember every single, painful moment I lived through until life started feeling a little better, even though my situation never really improved.

That was before the real darkness.

Now that I look back, it's almost like I got better as soon as my husband parted ways with me.

I was over medicated in prison, making me the model prisoner.  Prison shut me up, completely.  Prison did a real number on me.  I get a letter from my girl telling me how my boyfriend is cheating on me, a letter telling me my ex husband has remarried, my kids got into some stupid stuff because of a lie, so someone had to come to the prison to get paperwork signed by me to get the kids out of juvenile.

May 25th 2000 I was released.

A week later my legs were burned in a freak accident with hot water out of a car, spent three months going to the whirlpool bath every day, with the meanest guy I've ever met.

I'm not sick today.  I haven't been medicated in 18 years.  I'm alive and whole and have normal emotions just like everyone else these days.

I haven't had a bout of depression since that relationship ended.

Who knows?  Maybe it was all him driving me crazy.  Maybe it was just something that was supposed to happen at the time.  Maybe it was all the drugs I did on a regular basis and withdrawal.  I don't have all the answers but I do know what depression is and it's not something you can tell someone to just get over.

It took me a long long time to get over that young man and in his place was someone else rubbing my nose in all of it, reminding me every single day how he didn't love me.

So many things I actually remember from back then!  

Praise God for today.

He's been so good to me.

Today I am depression free.