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Depressions
Disabilities Depression is a scary condition. Sometimes
its hidden from the participant or cant be seen readily enough to immediately
identify. It hides doing its dirty work: undermining the reliable part of yourself while
insidiously stealing your inner peace of mind. Looking back thirty-two years now, I see
that I was in a state of functioning depression after my accident: not knowing it at the
time. While young, I was insulated from the
extremes of depression by the love of my family and friends. That, coupled with a strong
inner spirit, enabled me to function satisfactorily through the days and following years.
I maintained a passable level of performance at work and socially. Through my young years
and up to this day, a deep disturbing undercurrent of anxiety has always enveloped me. Due
to my young age, I unwittingly tolerated this strange floating anxiety. Perhaps I thought
these feelings were supposed to be. Through
all the tormented years, I could not see the real reasons for my feelings nor could I
imagine the present enormity of these feelings. When young, there are many distractions to
take your mind away from the anxiety. I was lucky to have such distractions help me
tolerate these great inner stresses. Its so very important to recognize
ones depressed psyche. How can we accommodate, acknowledge or combat a state of mind
unless we are aware of it? Many times the conscious part of us will ignore the
disconsolate lumbering condition of our unconscious heart. We cleverly hide it from
ourselves. So precious time passes as we function within this tormented void: time spent
in a dark cloud scrambling to survive. Looking
back, I now see the behavior that sheltered me from my real life. Im angry with my
friends back then who perceived me as distracted and knew I was upset even more than I,
myself. Somehow I feel as though they owe me something for witnessing my tortured spirit
waddle its way through so many social embarrassments. Should I be angry with them? What were they
supposed to do? Should they have told me what they were sensing about me at that time? I
think they wanted to do the right thing, therefore not confronting me with their
observations at this fragile time in my aggrieved young life. What are all of us supposed to do? Are we to
thrust our guesstimated insights upon a hurt spirit grappling to survive any which way
they can? Who am I, or anyone to say where someones good thoughts and bad thoughts
start and end? As
usual I had to look to myself for the answer. I can only find peace from within because I
am the sole participant in my life. Gathering any personal inner peace through these young
years was virtually non-existent. I can hear
and see all my friends around me ranting and demanding: such a ball of confusion I was
thrust into at this young age. Whose fault is that? Its not my
friends fault. Its nobodys fault. Its what happens when you are
facing the rest of your life with a severe disability.
Personal actions for survival, while ones psyche is submerged in a state of
dissembled depression, will produce many deceiving shapes and forms. If youre lucky,
these shapes and forms are somehow bypassed and you are able to carry on with the
days activities and therefore stay alive and healthy. I believe there are several types of
depression. Im no expert but I know Ive been functioning for many years in a
sort of depression. How complicated it can be when all the instincts of a healthy mind are
funneled into a dismembering survivalist attitude that, in reality, forces you to miss the
world and its life. The world is living their lives: sad souls engulfed in dark
shrouds are not living their lives. For those who are faced with severe physical
disability, the pain of the mind and the body is a strong force able to fool and mislead. Is all that really bad? What would be the
better way to face a painful future; one that you know will never leave and never change.
Who is anyone to say that my survival ethics are better or worse than theirs? Are they in
my shoes? Do they know the curse of bottomless fears and deep anxieties that are created
by severe disability? No they dont. See the insidious complex terrors that woe
the disabled personality. We spend our precious time painfully wading through the
ever-present contrasting images of accepting life, hating life and loving life. The rest
of the world is busy living and getting on with their lives, hobbies, jobs and
relationships. These are the fruits that fate has allotted to able-bodied peoples
healthy body and mind which is not distracted and tormented by disabilitys
diabolical melancholy. If
I were to tell of how I combated a state of depression while living with my disability I
would be only partially explaining the situation. I can say that if you are healthy in
your mind, your mind will take you to a place where you will be safe. A healthy mind, of
which I believe Im gifted with because Ive survived, can be trusted to afford
the energy to live through the day, then the year, then the years ahead. Im glad I
never argued with my thoughts or my feelings no matter how unpleasant they were. Perhaps if I had argued with myself I wouldnt
have given myself the space needed to get where I am now. Which, I glad to say after 32
years of being crippled, isnt all that bad at all. In fact, Im very glad of
who I am and the inner strengths Ive discovered. All of my personal strengths have
helped those around me. Through my disability and complicated
depression Ive gained much strength and wisdom, which has assisted those who are
closest to me. This is one of the greatest accomplishments of my life. Although I never
knew at the time of deep turmoil this would be the outcome, Im saying this to all of
the disabled people that are reading this right now that this is inside of us all. It
takes on different shapes, sizes and colors but it is always the same: a good inner spirit
finding a route to survive. The patience of those who love us and who are with us on this
tough journey are the ones who we will assist down the road when they turn to us for our
insights gained through the disability experience. We have some thing they dont: a
living testament to survival and mental health that will always be with us. They know
that. Thats why they are asking us often in so many different ways. Ive
acquired, through my disability and depression, the quality to love, forgive and to
understand without judgment. Im glad I am what I am. All Rights Reserved Kurt W. Franke 2002 |