The Middle Part II

I transferred all of my posts from my journal onto my blog.  After completing this task, I realized I did it in the wrong order– whoops.  Anyway, here is today’s entry.  Hope you enjoy:

My opinions and mouth got me in trouble again today, but I think I make a valid point.  I have had two people in my life with chronic clinical depression.  Those two people have been extremely hurtful to me, and when they are hurtful, they use their depression as an excuse or crutch.  My former best friend, had said the most hateful awful things, and I forgave her, and let her back into my life, only to have her turn around and do it again.  My mother-in-law and I have had a tenuous relationship from the very beginning.  Every slight, every mean word, and every time she did something, she always used the excuse that she was in a depression.  Today I mentioned on Facebook that I learned that people who are depressed seem to be only satisfied if they bring everyone around them down with them.  In my experience it’s true.  After my mother-in-law’s visit and spending time with my friend, I would leave feeling empty, like they were Dementors in Harry Potter, sucking all the good feeling and light out of me.  My cousin took exception to my statement.

I tried to explain it to her, but I doubt she will see it from my perspective.  While, I respect the mental illness and I do think it’s a disease, I get really tired of hearing that the only casualties from this condition are the people who suffer from it.  No one seems to think about, or care about those that are left picking up the pieces.  We have to hyper sensitive as to not offend people with depression, yet they don’t really care if they offend us.  I compare it to having a stomachache.  When I get a stomachache I don’t go to a person I love, and punch them in the stomach every time I see them, until my stomachache goes away.  It is human nature when we feel badly to make everyone else around us feel badly, whether it is our intention or not.  When psychologists first diagnosed me with depression, I cried, because I didn’t want to be that person, who places my needs ahead of everyone else’s needs.  Everyone I know who has been diagnosed with depression only regards their own depression without caring what they do to others.  Later on, after trying many anti-depressants, the doctors determined I was no depressed that I just had inattentive ADHD and Aspergers.  I like those labels much better.  I feel badly about offending my cousin, in one sense, but I think I had to say what I said.  I have respect for an illness, but depression is contagious, and it does have casualties.

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