Depression is a disease.
Depression can be deadly.
Know the warning signs.
When I was 33 years old I was very successful, financially
secure, highly educated, and I
wanted to die. In fact I nearly did die.
If a person could will themselves to die, I would have died. Nothing provided any satisfaction in my life. Eventually, I was diagnosed with depression. But before the diagnosis, not knowing what was wrong with me, I nearly died. And I didn’t care if I died, in fact – I desperately wanted to die. Depression is deadly serious.
I worked in a steel mill for a year after high school, I went to college at Penn State, I joined the Air Force. I lived in Berlin and traveled in Europe for 3 years. I got out of the Air Force, accepted a computer services job with a big company, moved to Washington, DC, and worked in the Pentagon. My company moved me back to Europe (Heidelberg Germany) for another 3 years as a civilian. I traveled widely, I completed my undergraduate degree at the University of Maryland Europe. I moved back to Washington DC again, went to graduate school, received my MBA. I was the highly educated world-traveled corporate golden boy, moving up and up the corporate ladder. I was on the fast track to success.
Then for no reason, over a period of a few months, I began sleeping less and less, eating less and less, concentrating less and less, and feeling very much in despair – over nothing. I had taken an academic leave of absence from my job, I spent hours pacing, and wondering if I was losing my mind. Soon I was questioning my ability to perform even the simplest tasks, and I was experiencing strange thought patterns, such as could I drive a car, really? Did I have the ability to drive in traffic? Should I just stay home instead of risking being on the highway? If I went anywhere could everyone see how I felt? Was it obvious to everyone that I was losing my mind? Did I have brain cancer? Should I die quickly rather than face a slow death? Was there any hope? Slowly… due to depression, and due to the lack of sleep caused by depression, I began to lose my sanity. I isolated. I couldn't stand being around people. I wanted to die.
I walked into a DC metropolitan hospital, told someone of my problem, I was referred to a psychiatrist who opened a desk drawer, and handed me a sample pack of Prozac, "Here take these, hope it helps, bye". Days later I walked into a clinic in Maryland, told the attendants of my problem, they gave me a prescription for Valium. Days later I walked into a counselor’s office, she suggested three sessions per week at $80.00 per session. Days later I walked into yet another counselor’s office and she said I need to be in a hospital RIGHT NOW.
By this time I had decided death was my only option, I was surely a goner. But someone told me that I could die anytime, and suggested maybe I should try rehab first. After much skepticism and prodding from health professionals, I reluctantly checked into a rehab facility supposedly for a weekend. I checked out 42 days later (long weekend?) in fairly better shape, overall.
I had been to hell and back.
And I had survived. But I could not have survived the ordeal alone, it took
a lot of help from professionals. Don’t let the same situation happen to
you, a friend, or a loved one. Be
aware of depression’s warning signs. Take action: it really can be a
matter of life & death.
- - - - - - - -
~
One day after the rehab stay I moved back to my hometown.
~ Two months after the rehab stay I started my own business.
I worked. I employed people. I built up a huge client base which included the police station, the county courthouse, the city building, the water works department, the local school district, law offices, insurance agents, and every kind of business imaginable. Today I still run the same company. Sure, life can be a rocky road at times, but it is so extremely fulfilling.
I don't know what
tomorrow may bring, but today I am a walking,
talking, 'depression victim' success story.
Today I carry the message: depression can be managed, recreational drugs &
alcohol abuse are not necessary components for a happy and fulfilling
lifestyle.
There was a time when I couldn't listen to music from my past. I would hear a song I remembered from high school and suddenly there my mind was - back in some horribly twisted re-creation of bad times. Today, I hear the same songs, and now I realize that the past is gone, I've got today, I'm moving on. I relate the songs to some healthy facet of today, in the present tense. I've learned to enjoy music again.
- - - - - - - - -
Looking back, having had depression has made me focus on what is important in my life for me, and to not pay so much attention to what others have and do. Because 'they' are not me, their life situations are not the same as mine. For me, a good night's sleep is priceless & critical (probably because I lost the ability to sleep at one point?), and it doesn't matter if it seems like 'everyone else is staying up all night and having fun', I need sleep to maintain behavioral balance. The same is true with physical fitness, proper eating habits, and financial stability - these factors are all very important for me, regardless of what it may appear that 'everyone else is doing'. Being in debt 'bothers me', it nags at me, so I don't use credit, even though it seems like everyone else does. Eating junk food makes me feel like a human trash can, so I have some really healthy eating habits, even though it appears everyone else does not. I do not suggest that others to do what I do, others need to do whatever they need to do to make their lives enjoyable. But depression, and its possible effects, has made me focus on what is truly important for me, in spite of what may be going on all around me. I have some established priorities in my life that really serve to keep me on an even keel. It is all a part of my dealing with, and managing, the possibility of depression returning. So far so good.