The day is glorious with an azure sky . The sun is beamingdown on an exuberant Frances Henderson. With arms outstretched to greet the cloudless sky, she's kicked off her shoes and is joyously frolicking along the water's edge. Frances isn't here to swim though. Although she loves the ocean experience--the salty taste, the smell of the sea, the feel of sand--she's not dressed for swimming today.
During the dark years, while in hypnosis, the beach is where Frances came to relax.
A major depression had mired Frances in a stagnant state. Without knowing how it happened, her life had lost meaning and hope. She felt agitated and anxious. Often her heart was pounding out of her chest. On many occasions, tears overwhelmed her, and she didn't know why.
Always practical, she made an appointment to see her family physician. Dr. Rogers diagnosed high blood pressure and prescribed medication. Before her appointment was over, Dr. Rogers and Frances scheduled another appointment in a month, so he could observe her progress. They maintained this routine for many years.
After many months, despite the blood pressure medication, the symptoms returned. Frances sat biting her fingernails and wringing her hands in Dr. Rogers' office. "How can I be so nervous," she'd say to herself, "I've known this man all my life."
"Hello, Frances, how are you?" Dr. Rogers asked when he saw her.
"Fine," she'd wail, tears running down her face.
"What's the matter?" He'd ask patiently.
"I don't know," Frances sobbed. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I-I cry-y all the time. Yet, I have a good life. I have a decent job, a supportive husband, and friends who love me. Why am I crying all the time? I don't know what's wrong with me." Sobs rush out of her in great torrents of anguish. Heaving sighs she gasps, "I-I cer-certainly don't want to fee-feel this waaay."
"Frances, I believe your suffering is caused by depression," Dr. Rogers responded calmly. "You know, depression is a chemical imbalance in the brain. You shouldn't feel any shame, because it's a disease like diabetes. You need medication to control it."
"Really?" Frances responded skeptically.
"The market is full of new medications. I'd like you to start taking these." Dr. Rogers handed her a bottle of samples. "Start with a half a tablet a day for fourteen days, then go to one tablet a day for another fourteen. Then I'll see you back here in a month, to check your progress. We'll go from there. Call me if you have any problems in the interim."
Dumbfounded, she looked at the bottle in her hand in amazement. Thoughts raced through Frances' mind. "Could it be? Could this work? Will I start feeling better?" She looked at Dr. Rogers incredulously.
"You need to start therapy, also," Dr. Rogers added. "Not only will you recover from this depression, but you could end up feeling better than you did before."
As if in a trance, Frances exited the office, paid the receptionist, and collapsed in her car. Sitting with her head tossed back, she reflected on the previous year. On this bright Septrember day, with this new perspective, the previous years began to make sense.
"There is hope," she told herself, "I will feel better." Frances remembered listening to a radio show about depression and taking medication. She also remembered that life changes were inevitable.
The next day, Frances took her first pill. Within 30 minutes she was totally nauseous. Her head was spinning and she could barely walk. She called the doctor's office. "Nausea is the number one side effect," he said, "stick with it. The nausea will go away." For two weeks, Frances was nauseous and depressed. She alternated between crying and throwing up. The depression was like a boa constricting the breath out of her. "This will pass," she kept telling herself.
At her next visit to Dr. Rogers, he recommended leaving work for 3 months. "This is a physically incapacitating illness as well as an emotional strain. You need time to get better. We also need to increase your dosage," Dr. Rogers ever patiently explained.
Although Frances tried to keep her emotions under control at work, her friends and coworkers did notice that there was something wrong, something different about her. A leave of absence for three months was a welcome respite, for everyone involved.
Of course, her husband Jeffrey got the brunt of her emotional outbreaks, her hysteria. The demons she tried to control all day broke loose at night. Fits of temper and outbreaks of hysteria were common occurrences. Frances alternated between loving Jeffrey for his patience, and hating him for his steadfastness. She knew she was unreasonable.
The leaves of October turned their brilliant colors of red, orange and yellow, then fell to the ground in November. The gray of December descended upon Frances who had no spirit for Christmas or the New Year. January turned to February, and the grayish cast in the sky turned to snow, as Frances sat frozen in her room. As the bulbs of spring slowly blossomed in March, so too did Frances. April ran into May, first with rain, then with flowers, as the color slowly returned to Frances' cheeks. In June she vacationed at the beach with friends, and gradually a gleam returned to her eye. The heat of the summer forced her indoors, but she happily completed unfinished projects. As the oppressive summer heat lifted in September, so too did Frances' gloom.
"Finally," she thought, "I'm feeling better." After months of therapy and doctor visits, the dark cloud of depression began to lift.
"You look wonderful," Dr. Rogers told her, "you can gradually start reducing the medication. I can see in your face how much better you are now. You've worked hard at recovery. You will reap the rewards of your efforts."
For two more years, Frances kept the dark demons at bay. Then, though still on medication, the snake returned to constrict her. Frances felt confused. "Haven't I done everything I'm supposed to do?" She questioned. "What are my demons trying to tell me? What have I left undone?"
With more vigor and strength, Frances pursued an alternative therapy. "What is it," she questioned, "that I am supposed to discover?"
Frances dreamt that the people at her job were vampires sucking the life out of her. She began writing a journal of dreams at the suggestion of her new therapist.
Frances told her therapist, "My dominant fear is that there is power within me. Acknowledging the existence of this power makes me anxious and afraid. I haven't been able to verbalize before that this power exists. I realize now, I need to do what I want, not what others want. I've learned from my depression that I need a creative outlet."
"What do you think that is?" asked Frances' therapist. "I know what it is," responded Frances, "I need to write. But for some reason, I've been afraid to try. I don't know if it's a fear of failure or a fear of success, but I'm afraid."
That revelation was two years ago. By reducing her work load, and pursuing her desire to write, Frances broke free from her depression. Frances no longer needs medication.
On this glorious day, Frances Henderson is ebbullient. She's celebrating that her first article was accepted for publication.
To read more stories, click Bucky's Story
How I got Cleo is a whole other story!! Cleo's Story
Cinnamon
and Spice's Story
Bucky
Tries Chinese Herbs
To read about our typical day go to: Pet Perks
To read a story about an absent-minded woman and her lost keys.
Read about ice cream Lessons Learned By the Scoop
Read about deep sea fishing in a Nor'Easter A Midsummer's Nightmare
Read about a fictional girl Lacey Santini
And read about The Invisible Diner
If you want to see more pictures
of my pets, just click
To find out more about depression, go to
the Depression FAQ or try
Depression Central
I also found
Andrew's Depression Page to be very helpful.
Also the Wings of
Madness page was extremely he