Medicine Is Magical and Magical Is Art

That is one of my favorite quotes in the world.  It is from a Paul Simon song called The Boy In The Bubble.

This lyric seems to be running through my head right now. 

I have been having an internal debate about whether or not to discuss the following subject on the blog.  I finally came to the decision that this blog is about who I am and I cannot leave this part out.

I have depression.

Like millions of other people in the world I struggle with the chemicals in my brain.  I have been on medication for many years (medication I am not willing to name) and it helps me.  Well, sometimes it helps more than others.  Lately I have been going through the unpleasant process of adding a medication to my regimen.  I decided that this was the perfect opportunity to bring this topic up here.

Part of my decision to talk about it is that I don't want to perpetuate the stereotype that depression is something to be ashamed of.  Depression is chemical and is often genetic.  There is depression on both sides of my family as far back as I can think.  At first I didn't bring it up because it didn't seem to have anything to do with the blog.  Then I realized that because it is something I deal with every day (even when "dealing with it" simply means taking a pill), it is a part of me and therefore a part of my writing here. 

Over the years, my depression has had peaks and valleys.  Some of the peaks were wonderful and lasted a long time.  Some of the valleys were very deep and seemingly endless. 

A recent string of events has made it hard to see the good side of life.  I cannot talk about the specifics of the tragedy because it is not my tragedy.  I do not own it.  My friend owns it.  What I can say is that it has changed my worldview and will stay with me for a very long time.

This tragedy came only a month or so after a little one I know was diagnosed with a fatal disease.  Watching her deteriorate week by week has been tough.  Watching her little hands shake as she comes in for a hug pulls at my heart.  Watching her have ten to fifteen absence seizures an hour is difficult to watch.

I guess the main reason why I am blogging about depression is because I don't want this blog to be about some charicature of myself.  I want it to be about me.  And part of me is my battle with depression. 

If my being open about my depression helps even one person who reads this understand that their depression is not something to be ashamed of, then I have been able to squeeze some good out of some bad.

Luckily I have good doctors and am now on the other side of this little hiccup.  The days are good and will continue to get better.

"Medicine is Magical and Magical is Art.  Just look at the Boy in the Bubble and the Baby with the Baboon Heart." -Paul Simon