Last week saw the publication date for my book, Beyond Blue: Surviving Depression & Anxiety and Making the Most of Bad Genes, which means it is now in bookstores (theoretically anyway).
So I wanted to reflect on why I wrote it …
I’m a tad over hearing about how depression and other mood disorders are yuppie diseases for folks with the time and resources to ruminate and obsess. I could do without all the advice on how to transform my thoughts into happy campers, even as I try every mindfulness strategy and cognitive-behavioral trick in the book. And I’d like to, one day, be able to tell family and friends the truth when they ask the predicable question, “How are you?”
We need to understand something important.
Depression kills.
It killed my godmother — my mom’s younger sister — at the tender age of 43. It kills approximately 800,000 people across the globe every year. Suicide takes more lives than traffic accidents, lung disease, and AIDs, and it is the second leading cause of death in females aged 15 to 40. By 2020, depression is expected to be the second most debilitating disease worldwide.
But if you don’t care about those stats, let me tell you this: Depression nearly killed me. For two years after the birth of my youngest child, I was a suicidal mess. The worst part about it? Unlike a cancer victim, I had to keep it all to myself. I wasn’t able to utter a word to the outside world.
Because I had already been judged plenty.
Well-intentioned people said I wasn’t eating organically, that I wasn’t doing the right yoga, that I should be praying harder, and that my meditation attempts were lame. They told me to get over my childhood crap and move on, to buck up like the rest of the population. So I continued to fall into my cereal bowl every morning, to carry with me a paper bag for imminent panic attacks, to lock myself and my kids into the restroom of a Starbucks until my meltdown subsided, and to pull over onto the side of the road whenever I started to shake.
After trying 23 medication combinations, working with 7 psychiatrists, participating in two inpatient hospital psychiatric programs, and attempting every alternative therapy out there, I made a bargain with God.
“I will dedicate the rest of my life to helping people who suffer from mood disorders,” I promised, “if I ever wake up and want to be alive.”
Miraculously that day did come… the morning I woke up and thought about coffee.
So here I am. With my mission: to educate folks about mental illness and to offer support to those who, like myself, suffer from mood disorders.
That’s why I wrote Beyond Blue: Surviving Depression & Anxiety and Making the Most of Bad Genes.
So that others might find a seed of hope in my story, and be able to hang on for one day longer. So that anyone who struggles with anxiety or depression–even in the slightest way–might find a companion in me, some consolation in the incredibly personal details of my story, and a bit of hope to lighten and often dark and lonely place.
It’s about my end of the bargain.
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7 Comments to
“Writing Beyond Blue: Keeping My End of the Bargain”
T. Paul at 9:44 am on
January 13th, 2010And I thank you.
Mary at 10:43 am on
January 13th, 2010Congratulations, Terese ~ a huge achievement and sure to be an important companion for other’s walk on this road. Deepest Thanks.
I celebrate your life and am very happy your book is out finally.
Congratulations, Therese, on the publication of your new book. It sounds amazing and I look forward to reading it.
Your courage to write “Beyond Blue” will undoubtedly save the lives of many people who suffer from despair because it will offer the reader some hope – a beautiful gift.
evelyn at 10:12 am on
January 14th, 2010I want to vent. A friend has bipolar and when she took her meds she was great, then she starting decreasing one w/o doctor permission and started into mania. She loves her mania and will even write that in her blogs. She whines when depressed but forgets it is usually because she “forgot” to take her meds for a few days. She expects everyone to remember her birthday but remembers no one elses. I keep reading blogs from bipolar folks who complain they have no friends but it is because they are not friends back. I am the well meaning friend who probably said stupid things, but one too many time of being critized for it and I will stop trying to help as I am sure your friends did too. We are trying the best we can to be friends with you. My advice, please write a column that explains bipolar people depressed or not need to be kind, to give us a break if we say the wrong thing. And somehow remember to ask about us…it is not all onesided. Maybe during a mania preaddress all the birthday cards. I don’t know I just know I am done being the giver, I have feelings too. I would love to see advice given to the bipolar person on how they need to contribute to a friendship.
Lisa D. at 8:42 pm on
January 15th, 2010Congrats Therese, I’m very happy for you in the triumph of publishing your book. I usually wait until I can get a book on sale or 2nd hand, but I think I’m gonna get yours full price and be glad to have it.
I’ve been suffering since early childhood and I’m in my 50’s. I’m not bipolar; I’m dissociative, depressed and have PTSD. I just relate so strongly to ALL you said. I’m so sick and tired of being judged for my misery. I’ve put a LOT of effort into seeking wellness. My childhood was so horrid that I’m still working to get past it while I deal with mid-life and empty nest. There’s been so much rejection and judgment against me and much of it is from people who haven’t suffered 1/10th of what I have.
You and I both know we have to keep working on our lives, but it would be SO much easier if people wouldn’t condemn us for what we never chose. I pray your book spreads like wildfire in the bookselling business – I’m sure it will help many struggling people and those folks who do try to support their recovery and survival. God Bless You.
HPC at 10:44 am on
January 25th, 2010To Evelyn:
My suggestion to you is that you learn a little bit more about what being bi-polar (Mentally ill) is really all about. They do not call Bi-polar a “Mental Illness” for no reason at all. My true FRIENDS…know that I have a severe mental illness. They are very aware of my problems even though I have said some really difficult things, and I have acted a lot worse. I have been amazed at the difference between real friends and close acquaintances. A real friend stands beside you not on top of you to judge you or behind you to talk about you, or even beneath you to build you up although real friends can build a person up considerably. My real friends are there with me no matter what I do, what I say, or how I feel, or whether I want them to be or not. It’s called the power to love another person unconditionally whether you get loved in return or not. Why am I saying this because it is just exactly that unconditional love of my true friends that taught me what being a friend was all about.
If you want a good friend then teach your acquaintance how to be your friend by being one yourself. Mental illness is called mental illness because it affects your brain therefore, your thoughts, your actions, your emotions, your perspective, your life. If you choose to be that friend, then at some point in the future you will look back and see what a great friend you have and what a great accomplishment you have been a part of.
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Last reviewed: By John M. Grohol, Psy.D. on 13 Jan 2010
