Inspiration Impaired

If you have breath in your body, you still have purpose ~ Auti Angel (Push Girls) October 25, 2012 ~ Marie

I started tearing up at a Cymbalta commercial today. Seriously.

Depression Hurts

On so many levels and in so many ways. I’m on my fifth day of trying not to completely sink and go under. Interest in writing is diminishing, motivation to do what’s needed is being buried under the rubble of physical and psychological pain. I think the only thing that got me out of bed this morning is the fact I had to get Luna up and ready to get on the bus to go to her pre-school program. Only it isn’t a pre-school program. It’s a respite care program and child abuse prevention program to support families that are “at risk.”

I’m tearing up and feeling like a failure because I need to use this kind of resource. Intellectually I know that the fact that it’s available and that my family is able to use it is a blessing to be grateful for. All I feel, though, is self-disgust that I need it. The negative messages in my head are so ingrained that I can barely even think of the affirmations and positive phrases I’m supposed to be using.

Depression Hurts

Five days of headaches, numbing & tingling in my arms and hands, intense and excruciating pain in my lower back and the lower left side of my body when I walk even a block or go up and down the stairs. How much of that pain is “real” and how much of it is “just” the depression?

I turned the television on after Luna went to school. It was last on The Hallmark Channel and I happened on an episode of Marie Osmond‘s talk show, Marie. Her final guests are two amazing women who are living with permanently debilitating spinal injuries and are in wheelchairs. One is a model and the other is a former hip-hop artist and dancer. I’d never heard of them before, but they are part of the Sundance Channel’s show, The Push Girls.

Auti Angel, the one quoted above, is just a year younger than me, she’s 42. She’s a woman of faith exhibiting strength, courage, and determination. She makes this amazingly insightful and inspiring statement and instead of being inspired, I feel shame and a wave of oppressive futility.

This is depression. Depression hurts. Depression impairs inspiration and saps the energy from motivation. I didn’t choose this. I don’t enjoy this. I’m doing what I can push myself to do today.

Depression isn’t winning in my life, despite how it feels. My laptop keyboard now has several keys that don’t work, so it would have been so simple and easy to choose not to write today. Yet, the desire to not fully succumb, the need to churn the dark, cold waters of depression, and continue sucking in air were stronger and despite the discomfort of tingling hands and fingers I found a way to write this on the phone keyboard. Yesterday I made it to the store, the bank, and the laundry room. I brought the laundry up when I came back in after putting Luna on the bus. I might even get it folded and put away, we’ll see.

The point is that even though the darkness, pain, lethargy, and negativity of depression are weighing me down, I’m still here and still breathing. I guess my purpose today is to not let depression win.

    Day 6 of Gratitude

I am grateful for agencies and people who do the work to help families like mine.




    1. Thanks for the affirmation, reassurance, and envouragement. If sharing my dark and wounded places offers hope and inspiration to others, it is always a surprise and blessing to me to hear it. I am doing it primarily out of my desperation for a lifeline to heal and move forward in my life. I am grateful to all of those who read and offer themselves, their experiences, perspectives, and concern.



  1. Have you ever read The Bloggess? She always says ‘Depression is a lying bastard,’ and she’s right. Sometimes that’s what gets me through my depressive ruts. I just keep telling myself that it’s a lie and will go away with time.

    This, too, shall pass.

    It’s funny you mention Cymbalta, because I just started taking it 😉

    Seriously, though. You’ll get through this. We’re all in your corner.


    1. Thanks Pam. I just recently read one of her posts. I’m planning on reading more. It does lie, the problem is I’ve believed the lies so long, I’m having difficulty combatting the false beliefs and denying the lies. I’m getting there. I miss my Cymbalta.


  2. I think for me, all of the disturbing but not really identifiable symptoms were anxiety. The more I worried about them and what they could mean, the more they happened. It took awhile, but once I realized that they weren’t going to kill me (after more doctor’s visits than I care to mention), they diminished. They haven’t absolutely gone away, but they’re easier to ignore. I doubt my situation compares with yours but it was (and sometimes still is) a “pain.”

    Depression actually inspires writing for me…dark writing. Probably the darkest stuff never saw the light of day because I didn’t want to show that part of me to my various audiences. I have better days and worse days, but each day eventually ends and a new one comes along. It’s good that my son (age 26 yrs) depends on me, since he’s in worse shape than I am as far as depression, anxiety, PTSD, and so on, goes. It’s much harder to be depressed when someone else depends on you to be their “rock.”

    I don’t know if anything I’m writing here helps or not, but you’re not alone in that long, dark, internal struggle to keep your head above water every day.


    1. James,
      As the saying goes, “Misery loves company.” Not that I’m happy others are miserable, it’s just good to know someone else gets “it.”

      Thanks for stopping by and sharing your story. Your son is fortunate to have you in his corner.


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