#22 " Like a cold, wet, woolen, navy blue blanket over my heart..."

CHAPTER ONE

This was the answer I gave when a resident in psychiatry asked me how my depression felt many, many years ago. She was young, I was old, (or at least beginning to feel this way), she thought that a new medication would "make me feel better."

Better, that was a word I no longer used in speaking of my mental illness. It only got better for a while...and then it always came back. An unwanted, unexpected meeting, a hellish August when the light began to change, a chance remark from a careless friend, a root canal that temporarily messed up my brain chemistry, the loss of my pet...it didn't matter, and no matter what was "tried" on me, (we, mental health patients, are SO use to: "use this, try this, see if this works, call me if it doesn't, call me if does, how about, or have you thought about, perhaps in combination with...) yada yadda yadda.

But it never really mattered... because IT always came back.