I Suffer From Depression.

I have my entire life, and I will for the rest of my life. It is an often dark and always difficult journey. How do I know I’ve always been depressed? Because I remember when I was younger, sitting in my room on the floor, next to my bed – wishing I were dead. I thought at the time, and for quite some time since, that everyone had such thoughts throughout their life. I remember my aunt would threaten to kill herself. My mom, her twin sister, expressed concern, especially initially. As time went on, I think the concern became veiled in a type of annoyance; wrapped in the belief that my aunt was just saying she was going to kill herself to get attention and sympathy. I was less than 8 years old, and it was quite confusing for me.

I was afraid to tell anyone that I wished I were dead; that I felt the world would be a better place without me. I didn’t realize at the time that I could morph that wish into wanting to kill myself, to make my being dead a reality…. but eventually, I would realize that was an option. Fortunately, once I realized I could kill myself, I was too afraid to do it. What options did I actually have at my disposal to do such a thing? As a result of TV and books I realized I could take a lot of pills, but where would I get them? I knew I could get some razor blades, but that seemed too painful; and I could never quite figure out if I would be able to hang myself. As I got older, I realized I could drive my car into a concrete wall. On days where work was extremely stressful for me; I used to wish a semi would crash into me to help me end it all. This last one is pretty ironic, because this actually happened to me when I was about 42 years old; and as I spun across the highway I was quite sure I was going to die. I literally shut my eyes tight, put my hands in the air and waited for the harsh impact of an oncoming vehicle, along with the continued loud sound of additional crushing metal. It was at that moment that I knew I didn’t really want to die, but I had accepted that I was about to anyway. When my car came to a stop in the median, after ping ponging between the semi and guardrail, and spinning like a top across 3 lanes of traffic and rolling over twice, I opened my eyes and blinked feverishly. I realized I had no open wounds; I was not bleeding. Although the car was totaled, I walked out of it with no visible injuries. It was a life changing day. It was the day I realized I didn’t want to die as much as I thought I did. It was the day I realized I wanted to learn how to change my life so I would never have the desire to be dead again. My journey to a healthier mindset has been a long one. It began on that day in Dec 2005, and still continues today.

Depression is an invisible illness. Depression has a stigma associated with it. The stigma associated with suicide is even greater. Until just a few years ago, I continued to feel the world, and those that knew me, would be a better off without me. It wasn’t a constant feeling, but it occurred anytime I felt my behavior resulted in hurting or disappointing others; either personally or professionally. Critical and judgmental people, those that think their way is the only way, are ‘my worst enemy’. As a result of my depression, I was unable to ignore negative feedback, and I would practically wallow in what a failure I was when someone criticized my ideas and methodologies. I held all this deep inside me, afraid to share my self doubt and pain with anyone.

I expended a lot of energy and effort working to hide my depression from everyone. This resulted in occasional outbursts of anger and outrage when I just couldn’t keep all of the emotion buried within me anymore. It was a miserable cycle, that only exasperated my desire to be dead; a cycle that made me increasingly determined to not share the darkness inside me with anyone. I envisioned the world would cast judgement, which would impact my career, my relationships and my ability to raise my family. I thought that if I told anyone, they would whisk me away to a mental institute, and take my kids from me. I did not realize at that time, that mental illness and depression are illnesses that are as legitimate as diabetes, MS and heart disease. The difference with mental illness and depression, however, is that they can’t be seen. There’s nothing to show people. You typically can’t say, ‘here is my wheelchair, look at my scar or this is the insulin that I use’. Regardless, I have a legitimate illness, and I am sick.

At one point, I did tell a couple of people. It was clear they did not believe I would actually hurt myself; and I suppose they were right ~ but by telling them, I was reaching out for love, and understanding, and support, and most importantly ~ help. Unfortunately, many people are not equipped to help with mental illness and depression. They reach for phrases like ‘killing yourself would be the most selfish thing you could ever do’ and ‘you’ll feel better tomorrow, you are not the bad person you think you are’, as well as ‘give yourself a break and stop thinking so negatively about yourself’. I know they mean well, I do. So no ill will is meant towards anyone who pulls one of these phrases out of their back pocket. Trust me, if I could feel better about myself, I would have, and telling me how selfish I was being, only plummeted me deeper into despair. What I really needed, was for someone to listen to me, and to gently help me get to a patient and understanding medical professional. A medical professional who could diagnose me and provide medication to calm the unsettling chatter of self doubt that continued all day, every day, in my mind. I also needed help finding someone … perhaps even themselves, or a counselor, support person, life coach, or friend who would listen to me, and just let me talk it through; in conjunction with the medication.

I have been fortunate. About 20 years ago, I met our Family Practitioner. He took the time to get to know me, and my family. Over the years, he listened to me without judgement, and recommended a counselor. That counselor also patiently listened to me, and was the first person to explain to me that I was ill. That my body and brain did not create sufficient serotonin. He drew me a picture of the cells in my brain, and explained to me that serotonin is a chemical neurotransmitter, which regulates the transmission of messages from one nerve cell to another; helping to keep the intensity of the messages in balance. He suggested I start taking a medication that would increase the levels of serotonin in my brain. I explained my fear of becoming a zombie, and he assured me if the medication did not work as expected, we would try something else. I started taking Lexapro the next day. It took a while for it to get into my system (4 to 6 weeks I think). Once the medication was established in my body, I experienced, for the first time in my life, a calm and quiet mind. It was amazing. I would make mistakes, and did not dwell on them. I would be less than what someone expected, and didn’t hate myself for it. My mind felt calm, and it was quiet. The constant internal negative self-talk had stilled. I was starting to feel better and was also starting to feel good about myself and who I was. I’m not sure my physician, or my counselor know what a vital role they have played in my current overall health and well-being. If it weren’t for their genuine interest in helping me, I’m not sure I would be here writing this blog today.

If you suffer from depression, if you have thoughts of suicide, if you have obsessive or compulsive tendencies, good days and then bad days; please reach out for help. Although it may take more than one attempt, to find someone that is equipped to give you the help and support that you need; know that with perseverance you can find the help that is best for you. If the first doctor you choose does not take you seriously, go to another, and then another, until you find the right one. There are also support groups on-line, and organizations that can help you get help. You can Google depression hotline, suicide hotline, crisis hotline, depression intervention, suicide intervention, or suicide prevention to find organization and phone numbers of people who are waiting to help. Know that you are doing great, getting through this life with this illness that plagues you day by day and minute by minute. Know that with time and the proper help, you are going to feel better.

I feel better today than I have in a long time. Although my journey does include the occasional bump in the road, the negative thoughts about myself are extremely short lived; milliseconds actually. I’ve had to change my medication twice, and that’s okay. Please don’t get discouraged or too scared if you encounter some bumps on your journey as well. I am much healthier today, in spite of the bumps and occasional twists and turns that I encounter.

Why am I sharing such a personal journey with all of you? Because my car accident, back in 2005, was life changing for me. I should not be here today, except that I am sure God gave me that experience to knock some sense into me. It was His way of slapping me on the side of my face to get my attention and to make me realize that He had a purpose for me, and that purpose was to help other people. I was in a dark place and was moving towards increased selfishness prior to the accident. I was feeling sorry for myself, and looking at life trying to determine what was in it for me. I wasn’t the person I remembered being when I was young, and I was becoming someone I could no longer recognize.

The accident was my wake up call. It made me realize I didn’t want to be a darkness, or a cloud of negatively in the world. I wanted to be a light, a positive force that would help others. Sharing my story with you, is my way of searching for people that need help. Although I now know depression is an illness, there is still a part of me that is afraid people will judge me for what I am sharing; fearful that this could somehow impact my life in a negative way. I’m going to share this anyway though, because I am hopeful that at least one person who suffers from depression or thoughts of suicide, will read this, and seek, and get the help they so desperately need.

If you know anyone that could benefit from my story, please do share it with them. It may give them hope, confidence to take the next step, or even an idea of what their next step should be.

Why the semicolon butterfly graphic? A semicolon is used to continue a sentence that could have been ended, but wasn’t. The semicolon is a symbol of perseverance for a person who has considered ending their life, but didn’t. The butterfly represents change. After a caterpillar cocoons itself into its protective chrysalis, it radically transforms itself into a beautiful butterfly. The combination of semicolon and butterfly represents hope and change for those of us suffering from depression and mental illness.

‘Project Semicolon is a non-profit movement dedicated to presenting hope and love to those who struggle with depression, self-injury, mental illness and suicide.’ Check out projectsemicolon.com for more information.

Take care of each other
~ debbie