The Undefinable Pain

I believe that I have been chemically depressed for most of my life. This belief is based off of the memory that I had this gaping black hole that could never be filled for a while (at least since puberty). No matter what I achieved or experienced, I could never be happy. There was always something to mar it that made me feel that I am not worth happiness.

The first time I tried to kill myself was when I was 14. I have a vague recollection that what set me off was Andes Candies. I know I tried to use an art kit exacto knife on my wrists but chickened out so I wound up carving my name in my forearm. I bled a lot and I tried to clean myself up in the bathroom.

The next time I contemplated suicide was right after my stroke. I was on blood thinners so I realized that I could bleed out with little effort. I could not see recovery for me. I could not imagine being independent, getting feeling back on my left side and learning how to talk normally again. All I could see for myself was being a ridiculous, retarded dependent shell of who I used to be. But I had fought so hard to survive my stroke and I was so angry so the thought of throwing all that away upset me. I was sobbing in my room when my mother found me.

The last time I tried to kill myself was around age 26. I was living alone and I was upset. I had a good set of knives. There is a thrill of drawing my own blood. But that thrill wasn't as strong as it used to be so I paced up and down in my apartment sobbing until I found three magnets from my refrigerator poetry kit on the floor. It said, "Life, blood, music." That was so apropos and creepy in that state of mind, I have kept the magnets on my refrigerator for years. I wound up calling my mother and she stayed with me.

I have a family history of depression and encountered violence at an early age so that predisposed me to a chemical imbalance in my brain. In June 2005, I finally admitted to myself that I needed help and I could not feed the gaping black hole that felt like it was enveloping my life. I had gotten to the point where I fantasized about being hospitalized. Even though I had experience with being hospitalized and hated every second of it. I started on 10 mg of Celexa that month and I felt an immediate difference. I'm up to 20mg now and I don't know how I would be here without this drug (take that Scientologists). What I really liked was something my mother told me. She told me if my brain chemistry is fine, I would feel no change on anti-depressants. Since I felt a change, it means that my brain chemistry was screwed up.