I have just realised my last attempt at a blog was over two years ago. Where does the time go? Prompted by some recent comments on an old blog I thought I’d have another crack.
The main reason is, I guess, fear of confronting something that has had a huge bearing on my life in the last few years, depression. It’s been the cliched “emotional roller coaster” of watching my daughter grow up and all the joy that brings, a promotion at work, the onset of depression and darkness, redundancy and (hopefully) the promise of a new beginning.
Many hear the word depression and switch off – it’s not something that many are interested in and most have no desire to discuss. What is it? Sadly I can’t answer that because from my experience every person suffers in a different way. Of course their are common symptoms but how we arrive at those symptoms (if that’s even the correct word) is unique.
I’d had a brief encounter with depression in 2001, brought on by anxiety and stress at work. A change in job seemed to “fix” me and I was depression free for several years. Actually, looking back, I now realise that I was never free of the darkness of my depression.
I realised something wasn’t right in the summer of 2011 whilst on a family holiday. This is supposed to be a time of happiness and relaxation yet I was constantly on edge, unable to relax with constant doubt and what many sufferers experience, paranoia. At times my skin felt as though it was on fire, I struggled to sleep. Let me expand on the paranoia. It didn’t occur all of a sudden – although, arguably I’ve always had a degree of self-doubt – but crept up on me to the point where it was all encompassing. I’d worry, endlessly that colleagues were criticising me behind my back, I’d think the same of friends and family and this, in turn, began to affect my mood. People who know me appreciate that I’m not the happiest soul but this was different.
Depression is often referred to as the “Black Dog” but I quite like dogs. Maybe it’s my Dark Passenger but less sinister than Dexter’s? For me, I visualise it as one of Tolkien’s Ring Wraiths.
The paranoia often manifests itself as a feeling of impending doom – something bad is going to happen soon and I’m not going to be able to control or stop it. Simple, everyday tasks like answering the telephone would become difficult and often impossible because of the fear as to what the call would contain. Saying goodbye to my wife, daughter and friends became so difficult as I feared it could be the last time I would see them. Irrational? Absolutely. But mired in this darkness, the rational and irrational become so blurred that the first instinct is to withdraw – not fight or flight but hide. I dealt with my illness (or didn’t) by withdrawing from life. I stopped socialising as I found it almost impossible to be around people, especially large groups. I had to stop working, my concentration was virtually non-existent and at times I would be trying to do several things at once yet achieving nothing. My solution was to hide away at home, hoping I’d get better but not really helping myself. Actually, that’s not true – you’ve heard the phrase “time is the healer” and to a certain degree this applies to (my) depression.
It’s a strange feeling and again I’m generalising but depression provides many strange sensations. As well as the sensation that my skin was on fire, at times you feel as though you’re underwater – your senses are muted and it almost feels like an out of body experience. Some days you don’t want to get out of bed and face the world and other days you make it to the sofa and your first realisation that the day has passed is the return of your loved ones home.
One question that I was asked by my doctor was along the lines of “have you thought about ending things?”. Normally, this sort of question would shock me but I’m not sure it even registered at the time as unusual. The answer was yes and no. No in that I hadn’t thought about ways to end things but yes in terms of I’d thought about not being here and the effect that would have on those around me. In my mind there’s a difference.
When everyday is filled with darkness, every day is a struggle and every day you can’t see a way out it seems like you will never be better, never be normal, never be yourself again. I’d have severe mood swings, be easy to anger and often irrational. How my wife coped and still made sure my daughter was unaffected I’ll never know – she deserves a medal and better than me, I am eternally grateful.
The turning point for me was redundancy. As mentioned previously, part of my withdrawal had involved stopping work. The doctor had signed me off to allow me time to focus on me and getting “me” back. At first my employer was understanding but in the end my experience of them was awful – I was just another employee number and a problem to deal with. After working there for fifteen years and putting in everything, there wasn’t even a sorry you’re leaving card. Bastards. On the plus side, it set me free! The day of the phone call my mood improved, I guess I’d been stuck in a rut for a number of those years, putting pressure on myself to succeed and being my own worst critic. I’d found the career unrewarding and the culture had become one of profit at all costs. It didn’t sit well with me personally and I’d felt trapped in this job with commitments outside of work that needed to be met. Thankfully, I’ve escaped.
Where am I now? I’d like to think I’m better although I don’t think I’ll ever be free of my depression. At the moment I have more good days than bad and its when you can recognise the bad days as not being the norm that you realise things have improved. I’m certainly in a better place and fighting my demons, which, is all I can do.
I’ve been fortunate during this time to have some great friends who’ve seen beyond the sullen, miserable exterior and done so much to help me – I’ve probably made more friends as a result of this depression than before. Thank you to my friends. My family have been supportive throughout and I’d like to thank my parents for their support. The biggest thanks go to my wife who’s held it all together, I don’t deserve her.
That’s it. Two years in the making and it probably reads like crap. I’ve stopped and started this blog so many times but seem to be in a position where I can look at things objectively. I hope this helps others understand either their own depression or that of others. It’s so easy to not talk about mental health issues and in some cases it’s best not to talk about them straight away, but eventually it helps.
And in the darkness bind them.
cardiffstu 