Saturday, July 20, 2013

Voices of recovery: Susan Schecter

I hope that you are getting a flavor of the amazing stories of so many "voices of recovery".If you would like to be part of this year's edition please let me know.



The final post today is susan schecter:




When I quit drinking, doing the 8th and 9th steps was easy. All the people i upset with my drinking saw me sober up abd after a year or so when I finally started this step, all of them said "No biggie". Most of them said the only amends I needed to make was to stay on the path. No one took anything from me, only to give me adivce to "Pay it forward."



They understood. My behavior was because of the grape. With depression it's different. When I am depressed, I isolate. I take the phone off the hook and don't want the world to see me. I don't want to go to friends houses, I don't want to let anyone see me. While I isolate, it feeds on itself. It gets worse as it goes on, snowballing to something sinister. I'm not seeing anyone, why should I change my clothes? Why should I shower? Wash my hair? Brush my teeth, wash my face, moisturize? Even do my nails. Why bother? Hours turn to days, which turn to weeks. It gets worse as I get more and more depressed, until I am hyper-sleeping and no longer eating. The last cycle lasted a month. By the time it's at it's worst, it becomes a Herculean task to shower, change clothes. Change the sheets on the bed. Move. I have to move, keep moving. I lay in a hospital bed for 25 days last November and December when my kidneys failed and I lost the ability to walk because my muscles atrophied. I have to keep moving, I am starting to feel them atrophy. This is not good. My feet are swollen with edema from the kidney and bladder medications, and I have to wear T.E.D socks when I go to bed, so it's really important that I keep moving. One of the things that makes it hard is because of my isolating, I've lost most of my friends in real life. "Friends" on line can only do so much for you. I know it's hard to maintain friends in real life, I've lost contact with most of my friends when the children came. I just didn't have anything in common with them anymore. And as much as I love children, being around them makes me uncomfortable, it reminds me of my own barrenness, and the dream I had of being a mother, now lies in ashes at my feet. When my ex left me, I crumpled, part of me knew it was the best thing, and part of me knew that as much as I love being alone I needed someone in my life to keep me social. I could easily wind up being the only person on an island and love it. The sad fact of life is humans are social animals. We need other humans to survive. The ex was a social creature, he needed to be around people. I didn't, and I was often upset that he would invite people over when I just wanted to be alone. Like I said, the isolation adds to the depression. It feeds it. And like ice cream, you keep feeding it until you cannot stop. The depression then eventually transmogrifies into despair, then suicidal thoughts come in. If you aren't careful, you can give into their Siren voices. Here's where the 8th and 9th steps come in. The steps are:



1. Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all. 2. Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.



I've harmed everyone I know in real life by isolating. Not answering the phone. Not wanting to do anything but lie in bed, on the pity pot. I can apologize. Only this time it's not so easy. My family and friends know I do this behavior. A lot. They know there is something wrong with my wiring that I prefer to be alone than with others. They know, but don't understand, that when I am with a group of people, I am absolutely miserable, I want to be home, alone with the cat. Why should I ask forgiveness for something I know I will do again? So basically I'm left with this. There should be some type of 12 Step program for people with depression. I want to complete the 8th and 9th steps, but it would be in vain. Until I can beat this monster, the monster has me. Pills aren't going to cure it, but sheer will. Each episode gets worse and worse, longer and longer, and I fear the day will come, where, like Virginia Woolf's last words*, I will just exit stage right. That's not acceptable. To me or anyone else. *According to her suicide note,Virginia Woolf's last words were- "I feel certain that I'm going mad again. I can't go through another of those terrible times. And I shan't recover this time."
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