Depressed and Depressive
One is warned, if one looks. On all the websites dealing with surgical matters in general, and in my case with cardiac problems and operations, in particular, it is always listed as a “condition to be expected” after surgery.
On almost all of the little bits of paper which accompany the pills and other medicaments, it is shown as “undesirable syndromes”
Not something I’ve had reason to deal with before in my life, but I have to deal with now, and I can assure you that it is quite difficult. The very fact that it is to be expected and to be aware of that, does help – but it is still a strange sensation.
It happens that I will be sitting at table, eating or watching the TV (or both) and suddenly I sort of “wake up” and maybe 5 or 10 minutes will have passed, during which time all I can recall is having questioned myself, time and time again, “what purpose all this suffering and medical attention can possibly serve – after all, as a pensioner in his 60’s, what possible purpose or use can you be to anyone or anything in the future” or some other, similar question.
Now, this is most definitely NOT like me, so I suppose one can say that certain changes to the character DO take place. I have no idea if this situation is long or even permanent, but so long as it contains itself to such areas as already explained, then it is not too bad.
I can well understand why I should have cause to such depressions, with the history of my now deceased wife, and various other episodes in the last 20 years or so of my life, and I think I can be happy that it is contained within a small sphere.
I can equally well imagine how other people who are accustomed to much worse fits of depression must feel.
It does indeed take quite a force of character to come out of a “depressive trance” and go back to work as though nothing had happened!
My tendency, knowing as I do, that this is part of my illness, is to think of things ridiculous, like my mates Chippie and Wacky-Backy trying to play petanque, or just Chippie trying to speak French!
This seems to work, and with my girlfriend, Granite, always doing something crazy, or simply rubbing herself up against my legs, I have the distractions required to avoid falling TOO often in the depressive trance, but it does happen. There are no tears, or shouting or anything outwards at all. I mention it simply to prepare anyone who may share the same table with me, and who will suddenly find themselves presented with a host who is mentally “elsewhere” for a period (very short) of time, and who simply stares vacantly in front of himself. In company this hasn’t yet happened, but there’s always a first time!
Of course, if the TV companies were to produce better programmes, or the footballers who are given so much money were to actually start earning it, then these things might help, by distraction, as well.
For the moment, I’ll just have to carry on thinking up and writing little articles to bore you all with – take it all as being “therapy”, and you are all being used as a sort of pschycological treatment, just don’t send me your bill!
So there you are – I’m not afraid to talk about things which could happen to us all, even if they only ever seem to happen to ME! Now that IS depressive talk.
Remember Chippie and Wacky trying to play golf? Oh my God - was that a joke!!
Mr le marquis. Vauvert, France 14 May 2006