"I am unhappy and it won't go away!" was my moment of realization. After a tumultuous, anger-filled adolescence, shouting that sentence at my mother, it all came into focus. My mind raced as I relived memory after memory, hoping for find some joy or brightness, only to find apathy and sorrow.This was my "something is not right" moment. I was 14-years old. Currently I am 28 and three weeks off of anti-depressants, the longest since Fall of 2002.
So, I spent a few hours detailing how depression felt, the physicality of it and the terror of not being able to trust your own brain. I wrote about how misunderstood it is, such as how many would define it as a great sadness though it is much more complex and difficult than that. I wrote about how depression is a contradiction, its foundation being the two disparate feelings of self-hatred and narcissism. I explained how it feeds itself with self-delusion and self-sabotage, like a parasite eating away at who the person really is.
I wrote it all but have since deleted it. Even now, eight years since the realization that if I didn't get help I might hurt myself, you would think it would be easier to talk about. Ends up, it isn't. Depression much like alcholism or cancer is ever-present. I'm no longer depressed, I'm merely in remission, and thankfully, it has been a long time. I know this might be a surprise to some readers (both that I have battled depression and/or that I'm no longer taking medication), but I assure you I am fine. This is a very exciting step for me, as though I've been walking with a crutch for nearly a decade and now I'm free of it. Again, I promise you, every thing is quite okay,
I know depression both as a sufferer, suicide survivor, and, now, as a therapist. So if you would like to discuss it or know more about it or the effects of anti-depressants I have plenty I could share.
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