I have depression. I've even attempted suicide once. It wasn't what I expected in the slightest. It was far more terrifying. The scariest part wasn't that I could've died though. It was that I survived. Not saying I wish I would've died, but when you live through something like that, you see what comes after. You have to face the people who you hurt, and you'll be surprised by how many stand with you. I learned more from that day than anyone will ever know; about myself, about depression and about the people around me. I realize everyone experiences this differently but this is my fight and if it could help someone else, then the worst moment in my life wasn't for nothing and I might even say was worth it. (This was written by my son about his struggle with depression....follow his story somewhere over the squiggly line).
I look back and study the event. You can't help but revisit it. I had depression and sleep issues most of my life. I remember in high school when I told my mom I wanted to talk to someone. I wasn't suicidal or anything, but I was definitely depressed. Over the years I had varying levels of thoughts about death. Sometimes even going so far as to justify my own loss of life to myself. I would tell myself things like "My siblings are young enough, they will forget or move on" and convincing myself others didn't care.
The day it finally happened I didn't tell anyone what I did until it was far too late to fix it. I had to ride it out. I didn't know it at the time though. I experienced a strange degree of disconnect when it happened. I say "it happened" because it didn't really feel real. In fact, I hardly knew what I was doing. I came home from work that day, feeling that helplessness. Nothing I did was going to fix what I had going on. Its amazing to me how wrong I was but I had never been down that road before, never come this far. I had never understood this overwhelming feeling before. I knew what I was doing, but not really. My logic was too twisted but I only realize that in retrospect. Its the most dificult thing in the world to explain, which only makes it harder for people like me to find support.
Your logic or lack there of, changes. If you haven't experienced it, you have no frame of reference. I can't stress enough, the frustration I felt back then. I would try to talk to my wife, but its the same feeling of desperation. Its constant pressure is its strength. Its such a unique feeling that there isn't an easy way to describe it.
Eventually, talking even feels repetitious. There lies the difference between depression and being depressed. When you are depressed over things in life, situational things that suck, talking absolutely helps, you also know it will pass. Trying to describe the feeling of depression to someone who hasn't been there may be absolutely worthless. Since everyone's depression is different, talking to someone with depression is no more or less helpful than anyone else. At least it wasn't to me. Just like cancer, without action, depression can kill you. But the action isn't always obvious. It isn't as specific as one might think. The action can be ANYTHING at all, as long as it takes focus. At some point, the pain either drops you further down or forces you to pull your head out of your own ass and put it into something more productive.
I justified the potential loss my family and loved ones would experience. Convinced myself that they weren't really there for me just because they had their own lives going on. Friends would be busy and I would convince myself it was personal when its anything but the truth. I realized, only after that, how many lives one life can touch.
I don't remember the night, once the drugs kicked in. I remember a few still images. I don't know what order they happened in, but I remember my dad sitting in my room in the ER. I only remember seeing his face once. My dad is a tough man, and he doesn't cry often, but he cried. I hadn't seen it since I was 15 or 16, now I was 27. My mom always cried, even during Homeward Bound 2, so you'd think her crying wouldn't have affected me but this was different. I had got caught doing lots of stupid and dangerous things growing up but my intention was different this time. This wasn't something for a thrill or fun, this was desperation humanized.
I woke up the next day in a different hospital in the high risk side of the psych ward. Still extremely groggy from my xanax induced slumber. I continued to sleep the majority of that second day. That side of the ward didn't have anything to do. It was designated for the most dangerous people so entertainment options were limited and I wasn't exactly in the mood to try to talk to anyone there. They asked me 4 or 5 times if I was considering harming myself or others, which I didn't. The only other thing I could do was think. Trying to figure out how I got there. Determined never to revisit that event. While I was in the hospital, I feel like I made the least amount of progress from the whole event. It seemed more like a punishment than treatment.
Ultimately, I learned two lessons from my stay, and they came once they moved me to the less dangerous side of things. Before I was switched to the B wing, my stay pretty much confirmed the stereotypical psych ward image. Locked prison style doors, crayons, art time and group sessions.
Once I got moved to the B wing, I started learning some things. The main one being... psych wards are a fucking joke. I saw a doctor once a day and he gave a strong impression that he didn't give a fuck. My therapist though, he was more help but still distant, as he would kind of have to be. I took the most away from the other patients. I wouldn't ever give any names, nor do I remember them, and I haven't kept in touch with any of them, but in the 2-3 days I was on that wing (I legitimately am not sure if I was there for 3-4 days) they taught me some things. The obvious being that I was not alone, but more importantly, and this was not mental hospital specific, I learned that I am a bigger and better person than I thought I was.
I knew I was special before. I knew people loved me, and not just family but a large group of friends who absolutely care and I still do know those things but it was put on blast as I left. I had just barely known these people and given the situation we were all in, we were all fairly guarded.
As I left though, I got the surprise of my life and I know for a fact, none of the people in there know it helped as much as it did. As I walked towards the door with my bag-o-belongings in hand, they clapped for me. They didn't do this every time someone got out. I hadn't seen it happen at all until me, but as I left I had a small group of people that were literally cheering for me. I got a standing ovation just for living!
Everyone who clapped for me, they were clapping for a kid who had forgot or underestimated his own self worth. The best way to describe it was a slap in the face. Not in that it was hurtful, but that it could not be ignored. A compliment from a friend is one thing, a gesture of support from a stranger, let alone a group of them can be everything. And it was. It forced me to accept that I'm a great person. I couldn't possibly tell myself I wasn't.
When I got out, I plugged my phone into the car stereo and two songs played in a row that will always be a part of my coping. It was on random and not at all intended but the message was drove everything home for me. Happy to be living by Mac Lethal is the quintessential "pull your head out of your ass" song for me. The chorus says it all:
I'm Happy that I'm Lucky, Inchin', Closer to my Goals theres better grub up in my kitchen? baby listen, I'm lucky to be happy. I'm just lucky that to be happy, and I happy to be livin', Happy to be lucky. Inchin', Closer to my goals theres better grub up in my kitchen? Baby listen, I'm lucky to be happy. I'm just lucky to be happy and I'm happy to be livin', Happy to be lucky".
The second one was a local group/duo. An acquaintance that will probably never know the depth of my gratitude. The song is called Stay Gold. As far as I know, it isn't on any album but its available for download on the web. Its called Stay Gold by Mc Topic featuring Liz Graham. I shared it with them and the response was what I've learned to expect. One responded with gratitude, the other gave no response. That didn't matter though, the positive message from the song is what is important.
An episode like that has a way of sorting out your friends who are halfway in, or as I refer to them "glorified acquaintances". Unfortunately, my wife at the time ended up being one of them. You re-learn a definition of friendship. I would be lying if I said I didn't lose friends through this ordeal. Its a taboo topic for many still due to a lack of understanding. So it can be uncomfortable to talk about. Some people carry judgements about mental illness as a whole. I attribute most of this to ignorance but frankly, they aren't the people that matter, regardless of the why. Some people left, but many came closer. Many showed me support. I was so caught off guard. People I considered distant relatives, friends I had previously considered acquaintances. There were TONS of reasons to cut ties and let me go at that point, just stop being friends but as Blueprint paraphrased Bob Seger: "You can't paint dark clouds, unless you paint the silver lining" and that quote has stuck with me a lot. The people who stayed are the ONLY ones who matter because no matter how many reasons not to stay they had, there is only one reason to continue to be my friend: they care about ME. The only thing I had to offer was my friendship and to a group of people out there, that was enough!
The common misconception is that people with depression have low self esteem or hate themselves. I feel, this is anything but the truth, depression is more like a form of mental cancer. Its an infection in your thoughts. The difference is that instead of white blood cells to fight it, we only have our thoughts and controlling one's thoughts may be one of the most difficult things we learn to do in our lives. That is where our support system comes in. You may not even realize you have one in place already. But reaching out is tough as hell and no one will tell you otherwise. Once you figure out where yours is, you can beat that mental cancer.
I wish I had some grand words of encouragement that would just make it all make sense, but they don't exist. I can share my experiences and so I have done so. The fact is, this is my story from my perspective and it will be completely different from the next guy/girl. The only thing I hope is that this can bring some sort of understanding or maybe just relativity to someone, ANYONE. Let people know they aren't alone. I've felt that not sharing my story would be a waste of my story. I'm not any stronger or weaker than I was then. I'm not "cured" of this awful disease. I have been educated though. That single experience taught me more than a lifetime in a classroom ever could.
As I revisit these memories, I focus on the endless positive that came from this. I owe gratitude to so many people. Many who don't know how much their interaction with me has helped build the foundation of my continued survival. I don't know if its "God's plan" or karma or destiny but out of one devistating experience, I came to understand myself, and the world around me so much better.
I may not understand all of my depression and neither will you, but I have got a better understanding of how to live with it. Depression, like so many other diseases, is something I will die with but it is not something I will die of. I hope the people who were in there with me learned as much as I did. And I hope sharing my story can be a positive to someone else. Worst case scenario, some people know some things about me that were unfortunate and less than positive, but thats not all that bad. The best case scenario is someone relates to my words and finds some form of comfort in them or someone learns something and gains an understanding that they may not have held towards one or more people they care about. Anything in between best and worst case scenario, well its all better than doing nothing. Here's to hoping.