Manifesto

     In many ways I feel much better equipped to cope with my depression now than I did during the episode that lasted from 1988 through 1994.  The depression itself is more profound now, more full-bodied, more insidious, and I have less energy to fight it.  Yet for all that, I believe I've gained valuable tools and personal insights that have increased my ability to compartmentalize the depression and at least some of the time, keep it from being the ruling influence in my life.  I now refuse to believe that God doesn't love me.  I choose to believe God is a loving God who sorrows in my pain and exults in any headway I make against the depression.
     I no longer believe the depression is my fault.  I refuse to take any responsibility or blame for being depressed--exactly as I was not to blame for getting cancer.  I refuse to believe my thought patterns are responsible for my continuing to be depressed.  My depression is neither situational nor subject to the whims of my mood.  It is as ineffective to school me on "mindfulness" or "cognitive behavioral therapy" as it would be to force these concepts on me in order to recover from cancer.
     Nevertheless, in my own way, dealing with depression for 35 years has taught me the value of being able to focus entirely on some action outside myself.  I may have to be somewhat obsessive in order to keep my focus on a project, but it accomplishes the goal of living in the moment and gives me some respite from the depression, at least part of the time.  Learning how to rethink situations that once caused me emotional pain is a valuable tool in combating some of the side effects of depression.
     I believe I am quite healthy emotionally and mentally and if I am ever relieved of the depression, I have every advantage to live a productive and satisfying life.  I am fortunate not to have any traumas that must be worked through in order to recover from the depression.  Twenty years ago I wrote that not having anything to blame the depression on made it worse because it left me with only myself to blame.  I have decided this reasoning is faulty and I refuse to accept blame.
     I believe I am Zena, Warrior Princess, because I have a backbone of steel and am as tough as rawhide.  A loser wouldn't have the stamina to withstand the years of unrelenting depression that I have battled through.  I am still here and fighting for my self.  I may be bruised and bloodied, but I am not defeated.  I may often believe there is no hope for me to conquer depression, but I still keep fighting.  That makes me a winner.  I face a desire for death every day.  I feel like slices of me are whittled away as the depression continues.  But I still have my core.  I am a loving, forgiving and empathetic human being, shaped in part by the depression.  I have turned bad into good.  My sense of humor enables me to see all the funny aspects of life and take pleasure in it.  I can enjoy a perfect nearly-autumn  afternoon in Rochester, Minnesota.  Twenty years ago I had forgotten pleasure even existed.
     This is progress in the face of overwhelming battering to my psyche.  Even if I eventually do kill myself, I will never be a loser, because I didn't bow under; I fought the good fight and struggled to win.  I have used everything in my power to overcome the depression.  I remain HERE.  Every day I remain is another successful day.

A child of my own

If I had a child to call my own, we would laugh, sing, play all day, and have adventures in the park all day long.  As a baby and toddler nap time and bedtime would be filled with favorite lullabyes galore.

If I had a child to call my own, I would tell you how much I love you each and every day.  I would also tell you just how special you are in each and every way.

If I had a child to call my own, I would teach you shapes, colors, numbers, and letters.  I'd also help you learn to read, write and do math.

If I had a child to call my own, I'd help you learn to ride a bike and roller skate.  We would have picnics in the park, go to the zoo and learn to swim.

Most of all, if I had a child to call my own, I'd want him or her to be just like you!

By Stacia Osiecki

The Dream

A dream forever washed away, carried away like sand out to sea.
Days once brightly filled with sunshine and dreams are now filled with nothing but a gray, dewy haze.

I now suffer a pain too great for the human ear, so I alone must face this pain I bear.
I turn to you to save me from myself, to save me from the depths of despair.
I bare my soul to you as you promise to give no suffering greater than one can bear.
I beg of you, "Just how much is one to take as they stand alone in this world?"
I do not wish to despair for I know there is a better way, so beg of you some more, I shall.

By Stacia Osiecki

Tear-soaked Pillow

I awoke to a tear-soaked pillow this morning as I sobbed for hours in desperation, begging for you to allow me to feel your presence as you've done for me in the past.  Why can't I have that now?

As I sit on my steps watching the sun rise with its awesome hues of pink, blue and gray I look back on my life and wonder what it was that had me so upset last night.

I was looking back at my life, a life of unfulfilled and broken dreams, wishes and broken promises galore.
I pray to you for the strength to face another day.

By Stacia Osiecki, a fellow patient at Mayo Clinic