I’ve been asked about my depression so I wrote this up. Basically it is about depression, how I have tried to alleviate it, what has worked and what hasn’t. And it includes a solicitation for suggestions for how I might respond to it in the future.
It’s so hard looking back after all these years but I think I had a happy childhood with no incidents of depression during that time. I remember a pretty carefree youth. Adolescence was when I began my periodic descents into the pits of depression.
The first depression I can recall was when I was about 13 -14 years old. At the time I went to an exclusive all-boys Catholic private school which was very math/science focused. I did not know it at that time but I have a minor learning disability in math. So this school was exceptionally difficult and torturous for me. Everyone agreed that I was a bright child, but I could not seem to pass math and science classes. The verdict was that I was a troublemaker and more discipline was required. I recall this period of my life as an unremitting hell.
Sometime around my fifteenth birthday I tied a rope around my neck and climbed a tree. I tied the other end to a branch about ten or so feet of the ground. This is when my father and several of his graduate students found me – prepping to hang myself. I remember just wanting to die, to destroy myself.
This was also when I started to see psychiatrists and psychologists. My mother was a PhD level psychologist specializing in child and family counseling. She was an Adlerian psychologist. Naturally she saw to it that I got the best care available in the 1980’s. I went to counseling sessions, I saw psychiatrists, I went to group therapy. They tried me on multiple tricyclic antidepressants; I remember amitryptaline and imipramine but I know there were others they tried me on as well. Nothing helped. When I was myself, I was cheerful, bright and outgoing. When I was depressed, I wanted to die. Depressive episodes came and went without warning, lasting several weeks at a stretch.
In high school there were some big changes. First, I got kicked out of the all-boys Catholic school. They had enough of me and my inability to grasp math and science. I went to a public high school where there was an active journalism, debate and theatre program – and I blossomed. For the first time I found myself excelling academically. I felt like maybe I wasn’t stupid. And there were girls – actual live girls! I wasn’t so good with them, but I was glad to have them in my life.
At this time I discovered a substance which did more to alleviate my depression for a longer period of time than anything else I have tried in my life – alcohol. I remember my first drunk with a rosy, warm glow. The day afterward, I talked with a friend. I told her that was the greatest experience of my life and I couldn’t wait to do it again! I remember clearly that she agreed with me that it was great – and then she said, “I never want to do it again.” For the life of me I could not understand her. But she lived with an alcoholic father. She knew better than I the road that lay ahead.
Psychiatrically, I was seeing a Dr. who specialized in and had written a book on bipolar disorder. Oddly enough he diagnosed me – bipolar! His theory was that I was mild bipolar and my depressive cycles were more noticeable than my manic cycles. I got on lithium and stayed on that for a number of years.
But my real medication at this time was booze. Ethanol was beautiful – she made my life so much fun for so many years! I was popular, I had friends, everything was rosy… except when it wasn’t. The truth is that the boom and bust cycle of my depression remained. And when I drank depressed I was no fun to be around. This was my college life.
After college was law school. Newly married, happy, and excited about the future I moved to a different state – a state where I had not friends and family and now support system. It also turned out that drinking between a pint and a quart of vodka a day was not conducive to good grades in law school. After two and half years, they kicked me out. The depressions that followed were incredibly dark. I threatened suicide constantly but was not strong enough to go through with it.
Drinking and driving had become a problem as well, so I did what seemed the rational thing at the time – I gave up driving. If I had so much as a beer, I would not drive. The effect of this was to isolate myself completely to our little apartment. Work, drinking and sleep became my life.
I was still on the lithium, but by now it was clear this did nothing for me. There were no manic phases to worry about. Just endless depression. A desire to die. A bottomless self-loathing. Turns out the lithium was destroying my thyroid’s ability to function. I started sleeping 12 – 16 hours a day. After some time, I was diagnosed with hypothyroidism – a lifelong problem. I will take thyroid supplements until I die.
In one episode of drunken depression, I ripped open my right arm near the elbow with a razor. I still have the scar to this day. Life was just incredibly grim, for me and for my wife.
In defeat I moved back to Texas. It made no sense to do so, my parents now lived in the state I was moving from. But I did it anyway. Something good happened though – shortly after I moved to Texas I had another suicidal episode and threatened myself with a knife. I think my wife took it away from me and I think I threatened her life for doing so. My memories of that night – and many others – is just a vague blur. But the good thing that came of it was that the next day, sullen and hungover, I went to an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. I’ve been sober ever since, coming up on 14 years now.
Sobriety has made my life infinitely better. I’ve been able to rebuild from the wreckage a great deal. My daughter has never seen me drunk or smoking and for that I am more grateful than I can express. I’ve survived divorce. But one thing has remained a periodic companion – depression. Every six months (sometimes less, but rarely more) it comes and visits me. When it does, rationality is out the window. Suicidal thoughts are a constant companion and I spend my days weighing the merits of hanging versus slitting my wrists and what about guns? They’re fast.
I obsess about keeping my daughter from finding my body. I revise my will to make myself less important, less significant – no memorial service, ashes in a cardboard box tossed in the nearest dumpster. I can’t erase myself enough from the world. I worry about my parents surviving their son but feel that this is the better way to handle things. I’m a failure as a son anyway. I never made it through law school.
My self-talk is brutal. You’re ugly, you’re useless. Women see you and turn away. Your daughter is better off without a father than with you. You failed law school. You failed private school. You don’t achieve to your potential. You can’t add without a calculator. You deserve to die. You should never have existed. Your parents didn’t want you that’s why they put you up for adoption. Even at birth you were an unwanted failure. God hates you. You don’t deserve love. Kill yourself and do the world a favor. I think these thoughts over and over and over like a broken record.
Since sobriety I have tried fighting back but all of the bulwarks to my self-worth are washed away in front of an ocean of self-hate when depression descends on me.
Things I have tried to fight depression and my estimation of their worth:
Exercise – provides temporary relief from depression but when it returns it seems worse
Diet—no noticeable effect upon depression
Meditation – during depressive episodes this can go from constructive to destructive as I find myself obsessing on my worthlessness
Prayer – provides temporary relief from depression
Drinking – for some years was very effective but that changed and it exacerbated and magnified the depression at the end, never want to try this again
Massage – no noticeable effect upon depression
Chiropractic care – no noticeable effect upon depression
Sleep study – big help with my overall health as I am now treated for Sleep Apnea but no noticeable effect on my depression
Amitriptyline – no noticeable effect upon depression
Imipramine – no noticeable effect upon depression
Lexapro – discontinued due to side effects
Paxil –discontinued due to side effects
Zoloft – seemed to help for a while, then lost efficacy
lithium– no noticeable effect upon depression
Cymbalta – currently on this medication, seems to help somewhat
Wellbutrin -- seemed to help for a while, then lost efficacy
Buspar – no noticeable effect upon depression
Anafranil/Tofranil – no noticeable effect upon depression
Abilify –seemed to help. Discontinued due to major weight gain as a side effect
Latuda –currently on this medication. Unclear if it helps or not
Counseling – the self-care tools I have learned in counseling seem to help me get out of depression a little faster
Writing – not sure if this helps or not
Alcoholics Anonymous – gave me my life back but does not seem to help with depression
Reading spiritual or self-help books – no noticeable effect upon depression
Basic self-care – mildly helpful
Cognitive therapy/Positive self-talk – no noticeable effect upon depression
I believe, though I cannot prove it, that depression has stunted and shaped my life. I believe I am single today because my depression drives away potential companions. I believe a failed out of law school because of depression/alcoholism. I believe I seek low stress jobs to avoid exacerbating my depression. I believe that I have earned less over the course of my life than I otherwise would have done because of my depression.
Right now I’m scared. Come January 3rd, my daughter moves to a city three hours away to be with her mother. I’m frightened this will cause a depressive crash. I’m scared that with her gone it will be easier to kill myself. Oftentimes, even when I am in a good mood I ask myself why life is worth living and she is the big answer that I come up with.
So I have gotten with my counselor, I’ve gotten with my psychiatrist, I’ve talked to my primary care physician, I’ve alerted my ex-wife and my parents. I will be talking with my AA sponsor about this. That’s my care plan for when she moves. To stay in touch. To be alert to depression creeping up on me.
But I wonder: will it be enough? Will I survive this next episode, whenever it comes?
After all these years and all this work, I just don’t know. And that scares me.
So what do you suggest I do to survive this? I’m open to just about anything.