About four years ago, I was finally officially diagnosed with depression. I say finally because it had been apparent to me for a while that this was the case, but I was incapable of receiving help. As you might have gathered from the couple of previous posts, I grew up in a conservative, fundamentalist Southern Baptist church. Unfortunately, this denomination has a reputation for telling people with mental disabilities (such as depression, bipolar, etc.) that it’s a spiritual or “heart” issue rather than what it is (in my case, anyway): a chemical imbalance in the brain. My brain, the organ in my body - not my emotions or heart or faith, is incapable of producing the correct balance of chemicals needed to make me function properly.
Did you hear that, fundamentalists?
It is not my fault.
Something else I’ve had to realize as well: it is not God’s fault either.
This is about my body not doing what it is supposed to be doing. It is not a reflection of my selfishness, my lack of faith, my lack of trust in God, or God’s lack of work in my life. It is physical.
Anyway… rant over. For now.
So for a few years I was on antidepressants. And they helped - sort of. They definitely helped in the sense that when I tried to come off of them a few times… the results were near deadly. But at the same time, antidepressants did not make me happy. They made me numb.
Unfortunately, at times this was almost worse than feeling depressed. Because often I felt depressed that now I couldn’t feel anything at all. I lost my creativity, my inspiration, my motivation… Even super awful feelings inspire honesty and incredible art. Some of the best, in my opinion.
So I had to figure out either a way to be on antidepressants and still be me, or a way to stay off antidepressants and not be dead.
That answer came in the form of a tiny little fuzzy pit bull puppy named Bailey.
And yes, I saved Bailey’s life by rescuing him from a shelter. But many more times over, Bailey has saved my life.
Bailey is rambunctious, annoyingly and adorably clumsy, positively huge, and the most loving dog you will ever meet. He still thinks he’s the little tiny lap puppy we got almost a year ago, but in reality, he’s a 60-pound ball of ball of destructive energy to my tiny apartment. He also happens to be a 60lb pillow, a 60lb snuggly blanket, and the best antidepressant I could ever ask for.
Bailey has an instinct about me. He knows when he needs to crawl up in my lap and lick the tears off my cheek with a tongue bigger than the palm of my hand, and he knows when he needs to bark and whine until I finally take him outside so I can benefit from sunshine and exercise. Sometimes I think I want one and he insists on the other… but if I follow his lead I always end up happier.
Bailey gives me the opportunity to be happy while also being me. He inspires me to experience the full range of human emotion at a capacity I never knew possible. That means I still have depression, and I still suffer from those symptoms. But Bailey stimulates my brain to produce some of those chemicals that I couldn’t before, as well initiating exercise that does the same thing.
Bailey gives me a reason to wake up in the morning when every other fiber of my being just wants to die. He can’t live without me - can’t feed himself, can’t walk himself, can’t let himself out to go do his business. And now, I can’t live without him. Sometimes I can’t feed myself, can’t get myself up, can’t make myself live life, unless he’s there to let me know that everything is okay because he will always love me no matter what.
All this to say, if you’re looking for someone to help you through the tough times and get you back on your feet while providing unconditional love and support (as well as awesome snuggles), all you have to do is make your way to the local shelter and find your new furry best friend for life.
Here’s a little interesting article explaining a little more about how pets help with mental illnesses, particularly depression.
Epilogue…
I now have two little lifesavers, in fact. Bailey is now 10 months old and is a rambunctious, huge puppy. We now have Sadie, a 16lb Shetland Sheepdog who’s been passed from person to person her whole life with no sure, safe place to settle down. She’s missing a few teeth, can only use three of her legs, has a really rough-looking coat, and severe anxiety issues. But after a trip to the vet and some good ole TLC, she’s become a snuggly, cuddly little old lady who is an absolutely princess. She and Bailey had some tense moments at first, but they are getting along well. She has a lot of physical and emotional needs… and that enables me to have a unique bond with her because we both are very vulnerable and dependent on each other.
Yes, I saved these two dogs. But more importantly, they saved me. They allow me to be me to the fullest of my being - without reservation. They give me a reason and desire to get up in the morning. They give me endless cuddles and tear-erasing kisses.
I love my dogs. I saved their lives. But they saved mine a thousand times over.
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