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It’s fucking tough, let me tell you

Guest Author: anonymous

This content contains explicit and sensitive information that may not be suitable for all ages.

Mental illness, depression specifically, has been the biggest hurdle I’ve had to overcome in my life. At 29 years old; I’ve suffered the effects of this mental illness for the last 12 years.

For me 2004-2005 was the roughest time of my life; I lost 7 people who were all very close to me. Three of them to suicide. And prior to this time, I had been to 1 funeral when I was 8 years old.

I’m going to start this off by talking about my friend who I’ll call James.

James was a quiet guy and was new to our school as he had spent his life in Foster Care. I ended up sitting next to him in Grade 12 Physics Class; I was always outgoing so we slowly developed a friendship and he would always help me out with homework as he was a brilliant kid.

One thing James wasn’t always the greatest at was being on time for class. Our teacher started locking the door when the bell rang and every day I would have to let James in as we shared a table in the back corner right in front of the door.

I would always crack a joke to him quietly about being late and he’d give me a smile and we’d sit down and get to work.

Everyone has their days where you just want to be alone.

December 10, 2004 was no different than any other day, class settled in, bell rang, door locked and James knocked … I got up and jokingly asked the class who they thought was at the door. I opened the door and expected the same smile I had got from him every other day. But today it wasn’t a smile, something was wrong and the look he gave me wasn’t one of anger but it was a sad, blank look.

We both sat down at our shared table and James didn’t open his binder or textbook all class. He put his head down on the table and sat quietly. I felt terrible for him; I didn’t know what was wrong and I didn’t think it was the time to ask if he was alright. You know; everyone has their days where you just want to be alone. I would just talk to him on Monday back in class.

Unfortunately for me I never got that chance. One thing I didn’t know about James is that depression was something he struggled with for a long time and on December 10, the disease had fully consumed him. It made him feel that the way he felt would never end and that the only way he could end his pain was by ending his life. James went home after class that day and did just that.

When depression fully consumes you there is no more joy in life.

I’ve never fully forgiven myself for how my last day with James went. If I asked him that day what was wrong and if he needed to talk about it things may be different. I waited and it was too late. I have come to understand the way he felt was a dark and desolate place. What he did that day was not a cowardly or selfish act. When depression fully consumes you there is no more joy in life, nor is there any light at the end of the tunnel and no matter how hard you try there doesn’t seem to be a way to get past the pain.

For me it wasn’t very long after this that I realized that I needed to talk to someone about how I was feeling. Something had changed in me. I started to isolate myself from the world, stopped caring about how I presented myself and really started to feel alone. I really struggled to sleep most nights, my mind started racing and going to dark places I had never been or experienced before.

Things started to go downhill for me in 2005.

It was the loneliest place I’d ever been.

I don’t know the day, but I to hit a time in 2005 where I was fully consumed by depression. There was no more light at the end of the tunnel and there was nothing out there that brought me the slightest ounce of joy. I sat on my bed that night alone and scared of where my thoughts had brought me. It was the loneliest place I’d ever been. I was so close to ending my pain that night. But I couldn’t.

Over the next short while I finally gained the courage to talk to my mom. All that I said is that you need to take me to the doctor and that I needed help. She immediately took me to the Hospital where I went to the Psychiatric Ward. I spent a few hours going through some testing which was basically questionnaires and discussion with the doctor. I was sent home that day with a prescription for Citalopram and a recommendation that my counselling needed to continue.

From there I was going to weekly counselling sessions along with my daily dose of my Anti-Depressant medicine. Things started to brighten up for me and I started to feel a little closer to the person who I once was and the person that people had known.

For those who suffer with depression it isn’t a onetime thing.

For those who suffer with depression it isn’t a onetime thing. It’s something that can rear’s its ugly head when you least expect it. You start having “bad days” where you just don’t feel right and things start to gain momentum and in no time you’re back where you once were.

Depression is a disease that needs to be monitored just like any other condition. It’s not always easy to talk to a friend or spouse about; but what you can’t do is let it get to a point where you could make the wrong decision.

What I can tell you is that you will still have “bad days” and life around you will go on as it always has and always will. But what you need to do is talk about it and manage it like any other serious condition. The only way to initiate this process is to say you need help. Its fucking tough let me tell you.

Comments

Laura
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Powerful. Thanks for sharing. You are not alone.
Laura

Bgirl
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It IS fucking tough!!! Especially when you’re the one expected to make others laugh

KeepOnFighting
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It is so very tough that the pain comes back, that the struggle is a life time reoccurring battle. It is though. Those bad days will always come back when we are not balancing our lives or when we are unexpectedly thrown off guard. We can get through those days when we keep on fighting. Then we will have some good days – enjoy those. Those are the ones making life worth living. Making the struggle worth fighting.

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