I choose

**TRIGGER WARNING**

I’m 15 or sixteen years old, I stand in my bedroom, blinds drawn, knife at my wrist. Later that year I stand on the train tracks, watching as it approaches, now very close, the engineer sees me, starts sounding the horn, I stand watching it come, jumping off at the last second.

I was taught that emotions were bad.

I have this voice in my head, it tells me that I am tired of fighting, so very tired of the struggle to function that the only solution, the best solution would be to just end it all. I have spent a lifetime hiding this secret. I was taught that emotions were bad, so I learned early and I learned well how to wear a mask. I get up in the morning to face the day, put on my mask, and go about my day. Nobody would know that when I cross the street, I look longingly at that big truck coming by, just step off the curb, my depression tells me, one step out and the pain is all over.

The same thoughts occur while driving my car as I come to an intersection, see a big truck coming, that voice says, just pull out, it will all be over. Still I keep my secret, not even telling my wife, who is my partner, my best friend, someone whom with I share everything, but not that one thing.

Still I keep my secret.

I have two amazing children, a wonderful wife, a successful business, why would I, how could I, ever leave all that behind? Depression, that is why. That dark blanket that smothers my soul. But, like I said, nobody would ever know, I come home at night, exhausted. It takes a huge amount of energy to keep the mask on, smile, show people the emotions you think they want to see. Somebody (Michael Landsberg) once wrote that people with depression are counterfeiters in human emotion. That sure rang true with me.

I’m 50 years old now, standing in a parking lot at the hospital, pressing my knife to my skin, harder and harder, my depression says, just do it, you are so weak, all these years, you have never been able to follow through.. do it now… the pain will stop… then thankfully my rational mind screams at me… Are you stupid? Why would you throw it all away? How could you do this to your family? So I go into emergency and ask for help. This disease called depression has the potential to be deadly, just like many other diseases we humans get.

I am learning that the voice in my head is lying to me.

That is changing now for me, I have started therapy again, I have gone back to medication – first one kind, and because that is not enough, now two different prescriptions. I have told my wife about my suicidal ideations, I have talked to a friend about my depression, I am writing this story, hoping to be able to share it on sicknotweak. I am learning that the voice in my head is lying to me. How can that be? It’s my voice in my own head, it must be the truth, right? Wrong, as it turns out, that voice is depression, not the real me.

Since that day in the parking lot, I have a new chant that say it out loud, I say it in my head, I say it to my wife, and I am getting it tattooed on my arm… it will say ‘I Choose.’ I choose to fight, I choose to live, I choose to talk about my disease – I will be the one to break the chain of depression and anxiety that runs through my family.

I don’t know if I will ever be “cured” from my depression – I think not, but I want to see myself as a person living with depression, not a depressed person. It’s a big difference for me. The medication is helping, suicidal thoughts are much, much less, and when they come, they carry less power.

Thanks to SickNotweak for helping me see that I am not alone, that I can talk about my depression.

I Choose.

(Greg’s new tattoo)