Hurricane

Hello my name is Bryan. I just turned 40 years old. For the average person that can be depressing. For someone who suffers from anxiety and depression that can really be depressing. That’s me.

I have suffered from anxiety and depression all my life but as a child was never really labeled with that. Always just a hyper or nervous kid. Growing up I was a happy kid but felt awkward socially. Shy. I also had a temper. Not a violent kid towards others but did not have patience and would tend to throw things or break objects. My dad was the same way.

Even if I felt sad inside I never showed it.

Growing up I was a smart kid when I wanted to be. If I was interested in the subject I excelled at it. If not I barely passed and would fool around in class and distract others. I was a class clown. Always loved the attention and wanted to make people laugh. Even if I felt sad inside I never showed it. I felt it would make me look stupid or weak.

Fast forward through my whole life, I have always wanted to make people laugh. Even if they were laughing at me. I felt that way no one got hurt. You see someone with depression is like an actor. We are very good at wearing masks. We hide our feelings. We can come across as very happy and funny people and be hurting and hating ourselves and our lives while we are doing it. One of my favourite actors was robin williams. What a great example. One of the best comedians in the world. His life was making people laugh yet he committed suicide. Great actor.

So as I grew older my nerves and hyperness really started to effect my life. Staying alone bothers me. Having to have things in certain order, pictures on the wall being straight became a daily chore. Then came the constant worrying about things. I would call my best friend and leave a message to call me back and would not hear from him and then assume I did something wrong. He hated me. Many things would run through my mind. To the point that I would have a panic attack.

My biggest downfall was I was starting to become a very angry person. Verbally abusive. Mainly to my family. Wife and mother, brother. My dad had died when I was 16.

The scary part was I would blow up like a hurricane and explode into a rage for about 5 minutes saying very mean and hurtful things and maybe throw or break an object or two. Then after that, I would calm down and go into a deep depression. Feeling lots of remorse and even worse, not really remembering everything that I said during the blow up. I just knew I had hurt my loved ones. Suicidal thoughts crossed my mind after every blow up. These hurricanes would not happen often at first. Maybe 3 times a year. It was like I would let things build up inside of me and not let things go. Then all of a sudden some little thing would set me off and BOOM.

Throughout the years I had seen my family doctor about my anxiety and depression. He was old school and didn’t believe in meds much but gave me a few to try.

It was a wake up call.

15 years ago I purchased a restaurant franchise and it has become very successful. Lots of stress and lots of hard work from my wife and I but it has paid off. Through the years I would have a few of these hurricane episodes at work. Mostly towards my wife but in front of employees. It made them feel very awkward and at the time everyone would just assume it was from the stress of running the business.

My breaking point was about 4 years ago.

I had a hurricane moment again at home but this time was so out of control that my wife had to call the police on me. I spent the night in jail. In a holding cell. Man was I scared. I was not prison material. I was a businessman. A good person. What the fuck was going on??? That night I knew I was sick. My wife was scared for her life. So the police pressed charges. I lived with my mom for 3 months as I had to be removed from our home. It was a wake up call. I was lucky I had a good lawyer and a good crown attorney and a great judge. And a great wife. After the smoke had cleared everyone realized that this monster inside me was not me. I was ill. I needed help. Real help. So I finally got to see doctors that dealt with mental illness. The crown agreed that all charges would be dropped and my life would not be ruined. The judge was happy to know that I was never in trouble with the law before and that I was seeking the help that I should have been given years before.

So things were getting better…then my doctor I was seeing retires.

No worries he will refer me to another doctor. I wait and wait and wait. Make a few calls. They go nowhere.

Ok so at this point I am still on meds and my family doctor who is also new because my old doctor retired is able to fill my prescriptions. So I’m doing ok because I am on meds BUT just ok. Meds only do so much. Councillors and being able to go to therapy is a big part of helping me deal with my illness.

So a year goes by with no doctor.

I end up having another hurricane episode at work on an employee this time. Not good.

I know I need to get help. I go to my family doctor. Tell him my life story. He is a young doctor and awesome. He wants to help.

So weird thing. I collect sportcards and memorabilia. I set up a table monthly at a show in the city. To get there, I drive an anxiety centre at the local hospital.

I do research on it.

For once in my life I feel like I might survive.

It is one of the best hospitals for dealing with mental health. So I tell my doctor I want to go there.

It’s a two hour drive from my house but I don’t care, I will make the drive. He gets me in.

I started going in November 2015.

I have been diagnosed with IED intermittent explosive disorder, anxiety, and depression.

My doctor is amazing. She has got my meds in order. Has found me a therapist in my hometown to help me deal with my IED and will monitor my progress and medication.

For once in my life I feel like I might survive.

I have to be honest. The last few years I have thought about suicide a lot. I did not want to be this mean crazy person I was becoming. I just could not control the hurricanes.

Up to a year ago I would never talk about this. But then I started following Michael Landsberg on Twitter and had always watched OTR. I admired how open and honest he was about his illness and loved how he talked about being #sicknotweak.

The more I thought about it, the more I saw that he was right. I was sick. I was not a weak person. I was very successful. Ran a very successful business and when my brain was thinking clearly I could accomplish anything I wanted to do. But then when I was not feeling confident and down I was done. I wanted to die. Not be around anyone and could care less about what I had accomplished.

Michael gave me the courage to speak out about my illness. I remember I had a staff meeting and told all my staff about my illness and that I was on medication and that I was seeing a doctor. The response was great, in fact, after the meeting I had a few kids come to me in private and tell me they suffer from anxiety and depression too but were afraid to say anything. They were afraid it would make them look weak.

Now at my stores we talk openly about my illness and I keep all my employees up to date on my progress. And so far no hurricanes.

The reason I want to share my story is because I want people to know that just because you have a mental illness, it doesn’t mean you are worthless. You don’t have to throw in the towel. You can be very successful in life and still function day to day. Yes, I’ll maybe take meds for the rest of my life and yes, I may need to talk to a doctor or therapist once in awhile but that’s a lot better that being 6 feet underground.