Dementor on My Shoulder

I have been unable to write for a while. I need to tell you why, but I am not sure where to start for this 'stage' of my life has come as a shock to me. By the time I am done, I hope you will understand what I've said, the meaning of this 'new' development in this quest to survive grief. This is something I really don't want to talk about, but there may be others that will reach this new emotion and have the crap scared out of them. I need them to know that it can happen and what to do if it does. It is so frightening, and it is the end of the line.

About five months ago, we went to an amusement park with friends. That evening, I became physically ill and assumed that it was something I ate or touched. We all know how easy germs are transferred, especially in crowds. I waited for it to get better, stayed hydrated, took care of myself, but it progressively got worse and new things were being added to it. After four weeks, yeah, a long time to hang on to what we thought was a flu bug, I went to the doctor. After many tests, nothing was found. Nothing wrong with the blood, no germs that shouldn't have there... nothing. The illness continued to get worse. As the weeks went by, I became agitated, nervous, upset, scared, dizzy, nauseous, unable to eat or sleep, my thoughts no longer my own, and toward the end, suicidal. Nothing mattered anymore, there was no reason, no help, no hope. The things that were happening within my mind were so horrible, I did not want to live. I could not imagine living like that the rest of my life.

A couple weeks ago, I reached the end, I was done and ended up in the hospital for two days while they did the most god awful tests possible on me. They found... nothing. Through all of this, my condition got worse. My husband was scared and if you knew him, you would know that nothing scared him. We knew that it was more than grief going on, but we didn't know what. So we decided that I should see a therapist. Those who know me know that I have no use for therapists. One bad experience and all that. This is how bad my condition had become. Husband said I was going from zero to suicidal in an instant, the change so fast, you did not see it coming. I have never been a suicidal person, have had regular depression that everyone has at one time or another. Who wants to believe they have reached that point?

Between the therapist and the Doctor, I have be diagnosed with deep, clinical depression. From what I understand, it is the worse depression possible. It is not because the grief is still with me, or that I did not 'let it go," A lot of it was brought on by what we had to suffer after Tim died. All the bottled up emotions and words that were kept inside. Everything we took in from people who wanted to be cruel. It all added up in the end. Deep, Clinical Depression does not go away on its own. This is hard for me for I have never asked for help from anyone. Depression, if it is bad enough, will manifest itself in the physical as well as mental. I am now one of the Prozac baby's.

Have you read the Harry Potter series?  "Dementors are among the foulest creatures that walk this earth. They infest the darkest, filthiest places, they glory in decay and despair, they drain peace, hope, and happiness out of the air around them... Get too near a Dementor and every good feeling, every happy memory will be sucked out of you. If it can, the Dementor will feed on you long enough to reduce you to something like itself... soulless and evil. You will be left with nothing but the worst experiences of your life."—Description of Dementors[src 

This is how I feel, that all the joy, hope, happiness and good memories have been sucked out of my world and I will never be happy again. The helpless of these feelings leave you in a dark place that is hard to come out of until you hit that point where you just want it done and over. It hurts my heart to know that my son lived worse than this for 34 years and I cry, wondering how he was so strong to last that long. It is so hard for one to understand depression until you have it, and even you are confused by it. So many think that you can just walk right out of it, that it is yourself that is keeping you there. It's not, you are helpless against this demon. I never thought I would say this but if any of you feel even a little of what I have wrote, see someone. Do it now, don't wait until it is too late. It was hard for me to go, to accept that I might need outside help. Pride goes before the fall. With love 'Forever Mom'