This stuff about depression goes around on social media sites every so often and, having been through it, most of them preach to the choir. I'm going to tell you some of my experience of it. Not all of it. Some of it is quite painful to recall and will certainly be unsettling for others to read. Where I leave gaps in exactly what happened and why, it is not a capricious attempt at being cryptic. It's more to do with my point of view that there are some things I do not want on the internet.
Five years ago, to this very day (January 3rd,) I hit the lowest point of my life. I won't be describing the specific incident that triggered this, because that was one of a large number of things going on in my life at that point that was conducive to it. To tell of it would be like apportioning blame to someone who little deserves it. But the following few months were as bad as it ever got for me. Adrenaline, panic, a bleak outlook on life and a blurred sense of reality meant that I was doing and saying the most stupid things I have ever done and said in my life. I somehow managed to convince myself that I was justified in my actions, when in reality I'm sure I came across as desperate, arrogant and spiteful. There were some people who bore the brunt of this. I'd like to say they know who they are, but most of them were never in personal contact with me, and I have no reason to think that they would ever read this. There are exceptions, and for those people who I upset during this time, I hope that the day comes when I can look them in the eye and tell them that I am truly sorry for the way I behaved. But I try not to dwell on it too much. I kick myself about it far too much already.
Of course, things are better now. While it would be nice to thank my family and friends for all the support, it would not necessarily be the truth. Oh, most of the people who know about this meant well at the time, and I do not belittle them for that. But it is almost impossible to know a depressed person feels until it happens to you, and even then, there are some burdens that I just did not want to put on people. The only person who was going to change the way I thought about my life at that point was me. But I couldn't have done that without help, so I'm going to name the five people who did help me, and tell you how they did it:
- Dr Jain, for referring me to a psychiatric nurse,
- Zoe the psychiatric nurse, who referred me to Cognitive Behavioural Therapy
- Maria, my therapist, who worked with me for three months. The therapy did not solve all my problems, but it did help me to deal with them.
- Jenn and Ste, my best friends. They didn't specifically help with the depression; that is to say it's not like they ever sat down with me and talked to me about it. But they were there when I needed them, and did what I needed them to do. And what I needed them to do was remind me of the parts of my life that I enjoyed at the time, those moments of happiness I could hold on to. I don't see very much of either of them these days, but I will never forget.
Sometimes, though, it all comes back to me. This time, I chose to write some of it down in a state of barely-alertness. I'm not sure what I intend, or indeed whether I want to know what anyone thinks, except just to say: I know depression is a real problem. It happened to me, and I know there are people out there who have or had it a lot worse than I do. I only wish there was more I could do to help. But even after having been through it, it's hard to know what to do or say for the best.
How can I empathise with someone who's mind is in a totally different place?
