The world I know as depression

18, 22, 32, 47, 52

I was eating bread. 18 years old, hanging out at a friend’s place and eating bread when I felt a rush of adrenaline the likes of which I’d never experienced. Then came these incredible full body tremors, I shook so violently I thought I was having a seizure. I could barely catch my breath. I thought more than once that this was one hell of a crazy way to die.

To my surprise I didn’t die. In fact, that night in the hospital they diagnosed me with nothing. I was given a clean bill of health and sent home. On the E.R. physicians advice I went to see my doctor the next day and he parroted what I’d heard the previous night. I was fine, not a thing wrong with me. How wrong they were.

There I was at 22, in my last semester of collage and my dad died. It was heartbreaking and threw me deeper into my hidden world. I boozed it up and got punched a few times – made me feel better. It lasted two weeks and then it all went into that hidden world. The world I now know as depression.

At 32 my marriage fell apart. It was devastating and I fell hard into depression. I was like a sloppy drunk for three months, spilling emotions like over-filled pints to anyone who would sop them up. In the end the only thought I ended up having was to go on, to keep living for my daughter. She literally saved my life and doesn’t even know it.

Then mom died. I had no help from family in taking care of my mom. All the pressure was on me. I knew her every doctor, every appointment, every medication, every illness. It was a constant battle to help her, but I did it and in the end, she died anyway. I tried so hard to keep her alive, to keep her going. Was it for her or for me? The road is constant but it sure as shit ain’t straight.

I crashed. Hard. All that energy keeping someone else healthy was now gone. I couldn’t move. I slept too long or couldn’t sleep at all. I couldn’t eat. Hell, I couldn’t even put together a coherent sentence. I was dying. I was 47.

We all slip, especially on such a steep climb.

My doctor saved my life. I can never thank her enough. She listened and understood (as much as anyone can understand). The road would be long, but I had taken a step in the right direction. It had only taken me to the ripe young age of 47 but I was putting one foot in front of the other. I was making progress up what used to be an unclimbable mountain.

We all slip, especially on such a steep climb.

I was looking up train schedules. I wanted a train that would be empty so, it would have to be late at night; I wanted to inconvenience the fewest number of people possible. I was 52 and I wanted it to look like an accident. A train was perfect. It was a fast moving monster and I hoped I’d feel nothing when it hit. It was three a.m. so I’d have to wait until the next night to catch the last train or I could drive over now and wait for an overnighter flying through?

If I drove over now and left the car at the station then my wife would have to take a cab or get a friend to drive her to the station to pick it up. She had to go to work and needed the car. Maybe I could walk to the station. But she wouldn’t go to work at all. She’d be upset. Or would she? Wouldn’t she be better off without me? Yeah, but then she’d be stuck with no car to get…anywhere.

I got help right when I needed it, then and now.

There is no magic pill though I’d be dead without them, I know that. I couldn’t kill myself because it would hurt my wife and daughter too much. I’d cause them far too much pain. The late train’s engineer doesn’t know how lucky he is. What did I do instead? Off to see my doctor. Again.

I got help right when I needed it, then and now. Meds are modified, appointments are made and kept, my loved ones are my heroes and a good friend told me about Sick Not Weak. I feel better, but the road, the one that I thought had a mountain that could be conquered, I’m still on it, and that mountain is one gigantic fucking hill.

I will always need to be diligent, honest and vocal about my depression. To do anything else would hurt those I love and dishonour those who battle right along with me.

I am sick not weak and I’m getting stronger.

Thanks,

Ian