SPOILER ALERT/WARNING: This post is going to be about some of my encounters with Major Depressive Disorder. I will be discussing some things that are of a very, very personal nature and include some of how I have arrived at this particular point in life - a point that is sad, scary and yet true. I am not asking for sympathy, only understanding. I am also hoping that if there is anyone else that reads this post, that is experiencing the same in their life, they will seek out a professional to help them through it. Life is precious and wonderful. Everyone matters and is valuable. The battle sometimes appears impossible, but that is where your professional help comes in - they help you to defeat the beast. You are worthy. You can win.
I had finally come to the point where I was to say, "it is finished and I am out of here." I was almost ready to take my bow, wave to the crowd and exit - stage left. No encore. No second act. Last night of the tour and last night with the band.
I was exhausted from lack of sleep and the emotional roller-coaster ride that had been my life's story. When I slept and if I had dreams, they were all of the rather macabre variety. Car wreaks...train derailments...planes...bombs. Gory, high speed deaths with no escape and with no hope of survival. I was barely eating, hating work and basically just going through the actions of being a human being. I took a mental note of my value to self and society and was short-changed. As I saw it, I was pretty much a drain on everyone and not worthy of the next breath I was to take. The only thing keeping me from crossing that final portal to the afterlife was a rapidly eroding fear of death and an equally vanishing opinion of the selfishness of suicide.
Here I am, deeper in debt than ever imaginable - so deep that I can never, ever get out of it. I am in an occupation that I am totally burned out on, yet I keep going back to out of sheer necessity - it pays the bills to barely survive. My marriage just keeps getting worse and I am dragging her down a road that she doesn't need or deserve to be on (thankfully, for her, she abandoned ship in an attempt to keep from sinking). I am enduring ridicule all around me because there are those that I am forced to deal with that think they have to tear down the littler guy so far beneath their own miserable life in a effort to feel far superior.
So, after spending the morning at work in a mental fog from over 48 hours of no sleep, I was forgetful and beating myself up for not remembering something minor, I had just had a minor accident at work where I was drilling a large hole and the the bit caught on a nail, thus nearly twisting my wrist. The final straw was when someone I work with asked me for the item I had forgotten and then was verbally upset over the fact that I had forgotten the item. It was then that I yelled back and then clammed up and was sent home.
Those "what if" thoughts started happening. Like a cartoon with the little devil on one shoulder and the little angel on the other:
"What if I wasn't here anymore? Then they wouldn't have me to harp on"
"They would just find someone else to yell at."
"What if I was just to drive this truck into that bridge abutment?" That would show them."
"Yeah, but what if you killed someone else in the process?"
"Nobody would miss me if I was gone."
"Who would take care of those five cats that love and adore you and depend on you?"
The back and forth like that carried on for almost 15 minutes. The largest part of me just wanted to be free of the mental pain, the exhaustion and the deep sadness that had enveloped me. Basically, the total darkness that I felt inside. There was that tiny little part of me that wanted to go on, fight through this and and get beyond it all. Fortunately, I listened to that little whisper and followed it's desire to win.
I went to someone that I knew I could trust and that would point me in the right direction and told her that I needed to talk to someone. I was nearly in tears. She gave me two phone numbers of local agencies and I called one, which led to an answering machine, and then the other. An appointment was set for the next morning to do the intake and, within twenty-four hours, I was getting the professional help I needed.
The path is not easy by any means. I still suffered the ridicule from those that always offer it. I have suffered the shame of having people wonder - sometimes aloud - if I am going to commit suicide. Most important is that I am getting help from people that are trained in how to work through this and how to deal with the little crap that pops up and add to the problem.
Sure, I still have the debt, marital issues and hate my job, but I see myself in a totally different light. I even see others a little bit differently. I am going to get through this and become a stronger person, in spite of depression.
