My Little Book of Hope

By B.J. Owens

This is my little hope book. It reminds me Ive gone through the tunnel of depression and come out enlightened to who I am today. Im no longer a depressed person. I am a person living with depression. There is a difference between them. What separates the two? Knowledge. Thats what this little book of hope reminds me. Bits of knowledge I need to help me keep walking straight on that narrow edge of darkness. I no longer identify myself by my illness. I identify myself as a person who has to cope daily with this very real illness. Once depression consumed me, I had no identity, no hope, no dreams. Today, with the support of my medications and the help I received from my doctor, I can separate who I am now from the hopelessness of depression.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Jan 17, 2013
• ISBN: 9781449781347

B.J. Owens

I’ve been writing as long as I can remember. I enjoy creating characters and watching them bloom with a complex personality. I have a master’s in sociology with a minor in English, creative writing. I’m lucky in that I’m married to my high school sweetheart and have a loving family. The journey I’ve taken through my depression has led me to a stronger, more in-depth person. I can only hope that my book gives you some insight and understanding in what you are going through. Think and take care of yourself. You are worth it.

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Copyright © 2013 B. J. Owens.

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ISBN: 978-1-4497-8133-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4497-8134-7 (e)

ISBN: 978-1-4497-8135-4 (hc)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013900005

WestBow Press rev. date: 01/14/2013

B. J. Owens.

499 Coldiron Hollow Rd.

Morehead, Ky. 40351

[e-mail]

606-784-6346

Memoirs

Introduction

Come With Me

Identity

WHY

Depression

MY GLASS CAGE

Depression: Facts and Fiction

Grieve

Excerpt from my Journal June 7, 1997

The Power of Denial

Death

Death

What Am I Going To Be When I Grow Up

Tell Me Where It Hurts

The Lost Path

How Far Did I Fall

Anger, Our Hidden Fear

The Ultimate Freedom

THE MOURNING

Anger

Guilt

Grudge

Listening to Prozac: Disappointment

Reflective Attitude

Valley of the Damned

The Danger of Anger

Anger

Fate Tosses Me a Silver Coin

Lunch with Dr. and Mrs. Granagher

Opening the Gate through the Tunnel of Depression

Excerpt from JournalToday, June 29, 2010

Knowing Joy

A Winter Gift

JOY

New Age of Psychiatry

The Phoenix

Full Circle

Emma’s Moods.

Soul

This Book is dedicated to:

The memory of Dr. Dale H. Farabee, Psychiatrist and MD.

Without his wisdom and guidance I would not be who I am today.

&

Phillip G. Owens

To my husband whose love never faltered

especially on my darkest days.

Introduction

This is my little book about hope. It reminds me that I’ve gone through the dark tunnel of depression and come out enlightened to be who I am today.

I’m no longer a depressed person. I am a person living with depression. There is a difference. What separates the two? Knowledge! That’s what this book of hope reminds me of. Knowledge I need to help me keep walking straight along that narrow edge of darkness.

I no longer identify myself by my depression. I identify myself as a person who has to cope daily with this very real illness. Once depression consumed me. I had no identity … no hope … no dreams. Today with the support of my medication and the mental help I received from Dr. Dale H. Farabee, I can identify myself as who I am now from the person I once was living in hopelessness and despair.

Depression is finally being recognized by physicians and society in general for what it is: a depleting, frustrating illness beyond an individual’s control. It is true that the bookstores are cluttered with self-help books written by doctors and various other knowledgeable professionals describing the invisible aspects of depression based on the imbalance of serotonin, norepinephrine, and dopamine. But what they haven’t done is live in the darkness of depression.

Scientists have started developing a series of medications that help alleviate many of the serious symptoms: persistent sadness or irritable mood swings, pronounced changes in sleep, appetite, and energy, difficulty in thinking, concentrating, and remembering, physical slowing down or agitation, lack of interest in or pleasure from activities that were once enjoyed, feelings of guilt, worthlessness, hopelessness, and emptiness, recurrent thoughts of death or suicide. These persistent physical symptoms do not respond to treatments, such as headaches, digestive disorders, and chronic pain (according to the National Alliance for the Mentally Ill). During the past twenty years I’ve read many books written by professional and nonprofessional people searching for that one special link to connect me with someone who truly understands what it is like being depressed. I needed to connect with someone who had experienced the black void of depression and discovered the way out. I needed them to teach me how to be happy.

I read books whose title were How to Be Happy, Gaining Control Over Your Depression, Listening to Prozac, and many more. My already shattered self-esteem was constantly being hammered because I couldn’t control my crying or my excessive sleeping (sometimes as many as 16 hours a night for weeks then no sleep for days). I wasn’t productive, and therefore a normal human being. I looked healthy so it had to be my fault that I was lazy and uncommunicative. I’d seen the accusation behind peoples’ eyes, "God, you’ve got a Master’s Degree in Sociology. What reason do you have to stay in bed and cry all day? If you’d get off your ass and go to work maybe you’d stop feeling so damn sorry for yourself!" These accusations entangled with fear and pain compounded my already deep seated guilt about my inadequacies to be what I looked like I was on the outside: a normal woman.

I searched for the illusive key that would release me from my prison cell and help me live a normal life. I admitted when I was able to feel any emotions I was envious of the accomplishments many people I knew were enjoying. But there has always been an allusive aspect about my depression that clinical professionals cannot empathize with or understand: Experiencing the controlling black void of depression. Only those of us who have lived daily with this debilitating illness can truly understand how overwhelming it is and how hopeless life becomes.

I wish twenty years ago there had been a book or doctor who could have explained to me why I felt totally isolated and alone, even when I was sitting in a classroom full of other students or walking through the neighborhood grocery store. It would have been wonderful to grab hold to something tangible like a book that assured me that I was not alone, and once I took that shaking first step toward seeking help, there were people, somewhere, willing and wanting to help me. But I didn’t have such a supportive book. I had no support, no assurance, no understanding of anything that I was experiencing. I was totally alone.

I have acquired a wealth of information and understanding about depression since then, especially in the past eighteen years with the insight and understanding of my psychiatrist, Dr. Farabee. Dr. Farabee was the only doctor I had encountered who didn’t dismiss my multitude of symptoms with a wave of his educated hand, but instead, took the time to understand me and the complicated pattern of my illness. Patiently and thoughtfully he helped me unsnarl the tangled mass of confusing emotions, imbalanced brain chemistry and sometimes overwhelming physical pain that ruled my life for so many years.

Before Dr. Farabee my general physician had tried to treat my illness by being the first to prescribe Prozac. It was during this time that Prozac was being raved as the wonder drug for almost anything from depression to weight loss. Suddenly Prozac’s flash with fame was being bombarded with lawsuits and held responsible for irrational behaviors, murderers, and suicides. Due to increasing pressure from my loved one, who meant well but didn’t understand, I succumbed and changed medications. In fact, I changed depression medications five or six times. None of the other tricycles antidepressants alleviated my depression as well as Prozac. Some caused side effects that disturbed me with problems such as excess weight gain. It was during this frustrating period of my life that I met Dr. Farabee. He was the first person to actually ask me which depression medication worked best for me. I quickly replied Prozac. He gave no judgments, no platitudes, no false illusions. He listened to me and gave me back Prozac! I knew when I walked out of his office on my first visit that I couldn’t let this doctor get away. When he moved his practice sixty miles from my home, I wrote and begged him to keep me as his patient. Which, thank God, he did.

During the next six years Dr. Farabee pulled off a miracle. He helped lead me out of the darkness of my depression and down the rocky path to a happier life than I had even known possible. Without him, I would not be here today.

There are certain facts that everyone who is searching for a flicker of light to help guide them out of their depression has to remember: no single depression medication works for every person. I have friends who can take Prozac, and I also know people who can’t. This book doesn’t focus solely on Prozac but on how the new depression medications change a person’s life. For as ludicrous as it sounds, once I begin developing a stronger, more independent Me, I encountered many difficult problems with the people who were used to me being depressed and passive.

I have heard it repeated so many times that Prozac changed you. You’re not the person you use to be. Even the bestselling book Listening to Prozac by Peter D. Kramer questioned his own power of control over other’s lives and his ethics of whether or not he should change people such as the woman he called Mrs. Prozac. I discovered as I