My Battle Against Depression

[Eric0620]

Except for my immediate family, most people have no idea that I have been confirmed to have clinical depression. I do not mention this here to have people feel sorry for me nor to treat me like some sort of victim. Rather, my intention is to describe with as much detail as possible what depression is like for me since many people cannot comprehend it and think it’s just regular sadness magnified. At the beginning of my illness around 1983-84 no one realized what was happening, including myself. During childhood, I was a happy person with a very loving family. As I entered the awkward period of puberty, my personality and outlook on life made an about-face from being optimistic and outgoing to unexplainably sad and withdrawn. I declined to participate in social activities, and was usually on the brink of tears. My grades in school nose-dived, and I assumed these were normal occurrences for adolescents enduring puberty, but discovered later that this was not true.

My family commented often that I did not “seem like myself,” and asked if there was a particular reason why I was down all the time. I would avoid inquiries from them by claiming unconvincingly that “everything was fine” since I knew they could never understand my unhappiness nor be able to do anything to help even if they did. Before this all started, I never liked talking about myself nor being the center of attention. In addition, I have always been extremely independent and preferred trying to solve problems on my own. Besides, there were a couple of times where I “tested the waters” by giving subtle hints to some just to see if I would feel comfortable going deeper into these feelings with them, but reactions were often what I did not expect nor want. These ranged from being told that it was all in my head, or that I should just get over it. That wasn’t true with everyone I told and I do not blame those who had negative reactions, but it was enough to make me feel I should handle this on my own and not bother others with it. The last thing I was about to do, anyway, was have my feelings put in the spotlight and having people forever treating me “differently”, so keeping this secret bottled-up and denying there was a problem was my only defense. Sometimes my anger would be targeted at anyone daring to pry into my private feelings. Unconvinced of my claims that nothing was wrong, my parents eventually persuaded me to talk to a psychologist when I was 15.

During my freshman year of high school, I had six counseling sessions with him. My responses to his probing questions led him to believe that I was experiencing the common difficulties of adolescence, and this phase would subside. This was his assessment because I was not ready to open-up and divulge to him the depth of my intensifying despair and that I had thoughts of self-destruction --- if I had not successfully masked my true feelings I know the outcome would have been much better, but at that time I needed to spend every ounce of my energy trying to hide it. Throughout high school years, my despondency continued to escalate and although I tried to fight feelings of misery, my condition just about hit rock bottom. I had a lack of energy to do the simplest of things, and my grade-point-average continued to plummet which put my high school graduation in jeopardy. I did confide to one close friend in high school how unhappy I was and that I had a death wish. At that time she had just lost a close friend tragically. But hearing what I was contemplating and that she was threatened with losing another friend was so harrowing a thought for her that she begged and pleaded, practically on her knees, for me not to kill myself. I was so determined to, once and for all, put my life in the crosshairs of death and open fire, but her pleas made me feel so brokenhearted. It really touched me how deeply she cared for me and how she cared that I was being leveled by such terrible, emotional pain. But at the same time, and as much as I didn’t want to hurt her, I knew I was going to go against her wishes and that she would suffer another loss all over again because my pain was just too horrendous to live with. The more I thought about this, the more it gave me pause at hurting her and finally, after resisting the idea for so long, I surrendered and decided to bare my soul completely to the school psychologist the extent of my despair and losing battle.

I described to her that I felt like I was only existing, not living, and was consumed with feelings of self-hatred and worthlessness. I also confided for the first time to an adult that suicidal thoughts constantly filled my mind like a dense cloud, and that I had already made dozens of attempts. Some of these included slitting and slashing my wrists many times, drinking turpentine once, poisoning aspirin that I then consumed, and secretly taking a syringe from the veterinarian so that I could inject myself with turpentine in one occasion. With other occasions I injected myself with lard or peanut butter in hopes of obtaining a massive heart attack and being dead before I hit the ground. In an ensuing plan to kill myself I bought over 20 feet of one-inch rope and made a noose. There were many nights where I slept with it around my neck, and a couple times I cinched it to the ceiling rafter of our garage to size-up how it compared to all the times I often envisioned doing it with silent satisfaction. Just before I told her about all this, I played Russian roulette with my Pontiac Firebird when no one was home. The car was to run for a predetermined fifteen minutes in our closed garage with a drainpipe running from the exhaust to the interior. I decided beforehand that if I were still alive after the fifteen minutes I would shut it off. At first I was successful in persuading her not to tell my parents about my secret. However, her conscience soon led her to reveal it to them, which I am now very grateful that she did. She told them she needed to completely level with them about me and said that I confessed to wanting to commit suicide, had already made numerous attempts, that I knew when and how I would do it and that I had already written a suicide note to them. As odd as this may seem, writing the note was extremely hard for me because in spite of the desperate need to put myself out of my misery I felt just a little guilty about my plans, but it felt like the lesser of two evils. Even though I passionately hated myself and knew I didn’t matter to anyone, I was aware that my passing would cause some small level of pain for those around me, but because of how I devalued myself I was convinced it would be just a very brief inconvenience for them and that they would move on quickly and easily. Alarmed at hearing all this, my parents sought professional help for me and were able to get a same-day emergency session set up with a psychiatrist. I will never forget sitting next to Mom and having to admit in front of her that I was suicidal and then describing the graphic details of how I tried dozens of times to off myself and that I wanted to die at that moment. It is indescribable how difficult and surreal that was, not only for me, but how devastated she was hearing a nightmare being realized. I could just feel the pain welling-up inside her as every word of my dark secret just rolled out, and I just felt awful that I was blindsiding her like this. The psychiatrist, who after assessing me and concluding that my suicidal feelings were quite real, prescribed the Tricyclic antidepressant Amitriptyline for me. As many times as I had condemned myself to death, it was amazing how after taking the medicine for several weeks that it actually started to work. The instinctive willpower to want to stay alive started to take over and made me stronger as my suicidal urges started to wane. The high walls of isolation that I built all around myself finally collapsed to the ground and the emotional injuries started to heal into scars.

On a different angle, there was one experience I had as a child that was uncommon, but in spite of the intensity of it I do not think it is related to the source of my depressive nature. I was six years old and a teenage kid along with two of his friends cornered me and wielded a hatchet in my face, threatening to dismember me for no provoked reason. I was hysterical and remember wondering why no one came out to liberate me especially since this happened loudly out in the middle of the street. But for 20 years I unknowingly blocked the experience out my mind, and when the memory returned I was so overwhelmed with trauma. I have not completely come to terms with it to this day and am still filled with rage because of it. I do not think it had any significant impact on my depressive/suicidal nature because my father’s father was also suicidal and depressed by nature. He never attempted suicide, at least not that we know of, however my parents found out from his mother after he died of a massive heart attack that he showed all the classic signs of heart disease, but ignored them anyway as if it were a brilliant way to obtain his death. I am convinced that my illness originated from him and that his illness must have originated from a relative even further down the line. My biggest fear is that either of my beautiful sons could have inherited this trait from me. I will be worried about this until the day I die, but at least I know I would be able to spot it a mile away and get either of them help since I’ve been armed with knowledge of the experience.

I know I am not alone in the world as I originally thought, and that people in this situation are not “crazy” at all. There may also be a fear of being labeled a coward for wanting to die, but that claim is pretty ironic since it takes courage to try to take one’s own life, let alone just trying to fight against depression’s arsenal. People have asked me exactly what is it about depression that can sometimes trigger a desire to die since that is so incomprehensible to them, and my answer relates to a comparison of physical pain to emotional pain. For most people physical pain will eventually go away, but the emotional pain wrought by depression’s overwhelming power is so much worse, at least in my experiences this has been true. It is relentless, never goes away overnight, is unceasing like a migraine in the amount of damage inflicted by it day and night, and it all but obliterates the spirit. Feeling like there is no hope for an end in sight, death becomes a very tempting solution for release as you are dropped to your knees and constantly crushed in your darkest hours. Major holidays like Thanksgiving and Christmas are extremely painful times to experience for depressed people because they are blunt reminders of how we are not happy during a time that is supposed to be happy. I am never surprised when hearing of a surge of suicides during holidays because of how they enhance the misery already being experienced. I usually breathe a huge sigh of relief when the holidays are over. Some people are afraid to seek help out of the stigma for needing help. But, as far as receiving counseling for depression, it is pretty much identical to a student obtaining help from a tutor at school in the sense that some people simply need extra help. For many, the help that depressed people need must be monitored, but it is imperative that everyone understand that depression strikes often and antidepressants are merely deterrents. For myself, I have had several depressive/suicidal “spells” hit me years after I was placed on the medicine in 1988 and unfortunately I know this will always happen at times in my life; it’s just a matter of when and for how long depression will “seduce” me and leave me open to attack.


If you are dealing with a loved one who is in the midst of this “storm”, one of the most important things you can do is not pity them nor handle them as helpless victims --- that is the last thing they need or want. They are not being weak, but are doing the best they can to cope with an unbearable existence of pain. We realize this is an extremely difficult challenge for those of you watching helplessly because you can’t make it go away, but the best thing you can honestly do is patiently and carefully love them through it every step of the way together, and pray for a quick end to their pain. Just being there to listen to them, if they are willing to talk about it, will help them feel less isolated and it will have a bigger impact than you realize. If they are not willing to talk about it, then do not try to force it, and just leave them alone with the offer to listen if they change their mind. When and if they are willing to talk about it, chances are that this will be part of what helps them slowly return triumphantly back to health.

It is my hope that the experiences here will be helpful to others. For those in the same boat, maybe we can learn and benefit from one another. I am in this with you and I want you to know you are not alone. I love you and I understand all too well your suffering.

[Obayan]

Hi Eric. Welcome to the forums. I'm sorry you have to go thru something as devestating as depression is. There is a section here on how to deal with family member and for how family members can learn to deal with us. I think you should check it out. I've seen a lot of your posts on here and believe you would be able to help a lot of people in there.

[Mountain_Mamma]

Wow Eric... Thank you so much for your courage to show yourself to us..

I think you are my new hero, and certainly not a victim.. I will work even harder to get to my depths, to help me heal, because of this post..

Thank you, thank you, thank you, for sharing this with us..

[Obayan]

(((( eric )))) and (((( mountainmama )))) sending warm hugs and good wishes your way.

[Eric0620]

Thank you so much for your kind words, MountainMama! I really can't call nor think of myself as a hero, but your kindness is very much appreciated.

I was not really expecting there to be such an impact, but am so glad it was helpful for you and hope and pray your pain will ease quickly. That's what we're all here for --- to lean on each other because we have a lot of pain. I'm kind of hurting again, but I know I will get through it because part of it is me being able to draw strength from you and everyone else since we understand what it's like.

Take care, MountainMama, and I will pray for you and everyone else.

Hugs,
Eric

[Eric0620]

Your kindness is very much appreciated, too!

[Obayan]

As is your eric. Thank you.

[Warmsoul/Jeanie13]

((((((((((((((((((((( Eric ))))))))))))))))))

Took courage for you to share, thank you for doing that with us.

Warmie

[Amanda]

Wow Eric,

Thanks for sharing your story. I can relate with everything you've said, and it gives me a glimmer of hope. I think your true calling in life must be to help people like us, because just reading your story helps so much.

[Eric0620]

Thanks, Amanda --- that's very kind of you! I'm glad it helps give you hope, and I certainly can relate with your story and it helps me feel less alone.

[llorona]

Hi Eric,

Thank you for sharing this. I myself can relate to suicide planning during my teen years. I feel like you are speaking to my very own experience.

Thank you so much for your courage and bravery.

Llorona

[Obayan]

Eric you definately aren't alone here. Many of us are going thru or have gone thru the same things. I hope you find the help here that you are looking for.

[Eric0620]

Hi llorona,

Forgive me --- I somehow did not see your kind message until now. Thank you for your support, and am sorry you had to go through such a difficult time, and hope/pray you are doing better now!

Sincerely,

Eric