Did you know that six in 10 Americans live with at least one chronic illness? The CDC reports chronic diseases are the leading causes of death and disability in the U.S. and the leading driver of healthcare costs.
On that list of illnesses is depression, which might surprise some. A lot of people don’t think depression is a real illness, but I’m here to tell you it is. A deadly one.
Before I went to a psychiatric hospital for depression, anxiety and suicidal thoughts four years ago, I thought it would go away, but after learning more during my stay, I know it’s a lifelong illness. I’ve had these conditions for two decades, but I can now say I’m in recovery, meaning I’m not experiencing a depressive episode. Even though that’s true, some days are still a struggle.
I have to be steadfast in my routine and avoid triggers that could lead to a panic attack, depression or a binge episode (I have an eating disorder, too). I continue to have feelings of sadness, apathy and hopelessness. Sometimes it’s hard to enjoy the things I love. Depression also can cause physical symptoms, such as fatigue, appetite changes and sleeping too much (or not enough).
It’s a lot of work just to stay afloat, and that weighs on me. It would be easy for me to slip, forgetting my progress. Knowing that makes me sad if I think about it too long.
Chronic illness, no matter what it is, is exhausting. I know I’m not alone. An estimated 48 million Americans live with various chronic diseases, including migraine, arthritis, diabetes, hypothyroidism, cancer, autoimmune disease and cardiovascular disease. The list goes on. Those struggling with an illness experience disruptions to their daily lives and their ability to work. It also affects relationships.
What’s interesting is the complex link between chronic illness and depression. Many long-term illnesses can increase the risk of developing mental health difficulties, but the reverse is also true: people with depression are more likely to develop certain chronic diseases. Depression appears to make physical illness more likely.
Research suggests that people who have depression and another medical illness tend to have more severe symptoms of both illnesses, according to the National Institute of Mental Health. They may have more difficulty adapting to their medical condition, and they may have higher medical costs than those who do not have both depression and a medical illness.
I think about this because I have chronic migraine attacks. I’ve had them since I was a kid, and it was difficult to go to school during attacks. This affects lots of things (grades, self-confidence, relationships). I started experiencing anxiety and depression around that time, too, and it makes me wonder which came first.
I don’t have many migraine attacks now, since having my kids, and I’m so grateful. Before, I had 16 attacks per month. I missed a lot of work, constantly canceled plans and spent time in a dark room praying for relief.
I feel I had it easy, or at least easier. Others have it worse, facing challenges and debilitating pain in their daily life. It’s understandable why depression would occur. It’s difficult enough to be chronically ill without depression making an appearance. What’s worse is knowing others don’t understand chronic conditions. If they can’t see your suffering, it’s not real.
You’re more likely to get sympathy for a broken leg than a migraine or autoimmune disorder. I was treated terribly when I missed work for having a migraine attack. I was written up at work, and coworkers scorned me. Even my friends got sick of me not showing up. I don’t blame them — it wasn’t possible for me to be a good, present friend. Or employee. I understand that now.
I wish I had been met with compassion. I understand why I wasn’t, but that must change. You don’t know what people are experiencing, and even if they happen to share their condition with you, they’re risking a lot because of stigma, lack of knowledge about their illness and being treated differently. That was the case for me. I couldn’t admit I had depression and migraine disorder when I was younger. I was embarrassed and felt weak. I didn’t want confirmation from others that I was.
But I’m not weak. Neither is anyone who fights a chronic illness. We know pain, and some fight it every day. We’re strong, resilient. I honor everyone’s hardship and ferocity. It’s a full-time job having a chronic disease. Not everybody understands that, but I do. I hope acceptance from others comes swiftly, but I’m not holding my breath. This isn’t about them.
Though our illnesses may be invisible to others, we are warriors.
And we’ll keep on fighting.
For more than 20 years, Heather Loeb has experienced major depression, anxiety and a personality disorder, while also battling the stigma of mental health. She is the creator of Unruly Neurons (www.unrulyneurons.com), a blog dedicated to normalizing depression and a member of state Rep. Todd Hunter’s Suicide Prevention Taskforce.
MIND MATTERS
Now more than ever we need to take care of our mental health. Guest columnist Heather Loeb discusses why and explores other important mental health topics in this special series.
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