Humans, and Midwesterners in particular, are a resilient bunch. We pride ourselves that this is the case. The heart of it is: when life is good, we are humble. When life is rough, we are humble. Other people probably have it worse. When our days offer us difficulties, trouble, sorrow and pain, we feel our duty to power through it, to keep going, to suck it up.
Sometimes these are practical or personal problems that we can face with a stout heart, a brisk pace and hard work. Sometimes the problem doesn’t come from a place that can be addressed.
Depression can paint even good days as problems and make them insurmountable. And failing to overcome, we blame ourselves, or blame each other, and it strains our lives, even to the point of breaking them.
Whoa, that was dark.
Here’s what happened, and what is still happening, to me (it’s an ongoing battle) and legions like me. There are parts of my mind that don’t work quite right. I didn’t know they weren’t working the way they should. I thought that nothing in life was working the way it should.
My circumstances are great. But environment, family, friends and history don’t necessarily matter when your world is darkened from within. Even though things were good, it was impossible for me to know, for me to suspect, that the burdens I was carrying were not all real, were not practical, were not burdens that everyone feels when they are healthy and trying to live their lives.
Then I had that panic attack. I thought I was dying. I thought I was dying after months, maybe years, of thinking about just that thing. Before that night I imagined that death would be a relief.
But the animal instinct to try to save my life when I thought it was imperiled won that night. I called for help. I got it from my kids, who were calm and cooperative as I woke them up earlier than usual and got them into clothes to run them over to our neighbors. I got help from those neighbors, who watched over my kids while I waited for the ambulance, and then as I recovered in the hospital. I got help from the police, who got me some oxygen, from the paramedics, from the nurses and doctors who, one after another reassured me that I was not dying.
Up until that early morning night, they were wrong. I was dying. And had I not woken up in that panic, I might not have made it. But today, they are right. I got some advice, I talked with my doctor about my panic attack. She talked with me about depression, about counseling, about medication. I cried, she sat patiently with me, talked me through the beginning of my treatment for clinical depression.
I got the impression that my depression was not too bad, maybe just a little worse than anxiety. I was confident in my new prescriptions, confident that I could stay calm, maintain my composure and I knew that I could survive a panic attack if I had to. I learned later, in reviewing my documents after a year or so when I saw the recorded notes, “major depressive episode.” I saw it, and I laughed. I lucked out. I made it out of the darkness that year.
When I was suffering, even though it broke my heart each time, I held my son and daughter every time I saw them. It was all I could do to hold onto the world.
Today I am thankful that I developed the habit of holding them so often, telling them I love them so often. Never missing a snuggle, never missing a chance to hear them laugh or snore. I have come to see that those weren’t my last moments with them. They were the first.
So, here’s my own personal takeaway, as a man recovering from a severe depressive episode about two years ago. Reach out.
REACH!
Hit one of these websites — this one, this one, this one or this one. Reach for your spouse or significant other, someone who cares about you. Don’t have that kind of relationship in your life? A doctor is where to start.
Reaching out, asking another human, “Could I be depressed? Suffer with anxiety and not know it? Are these tough times real? Where does honest practical trouble and turmoil end and illness begin?” that’s how you’ll start your journey to a hopefully brighter day. Winter’s nearly over. The days are getting longer, sunnier and warmer.
Don’t believe me? You might need to talk.
I’m with you. I want you to live, to be happy, to feel human. We’re in this together.
– Micah Clarke