Let’s Talk About It - Depression

(Originally published October 23, 2022)

As I sit here having decided I want to write about this, I'm still not exactly sure about the end goal. Here is what I know: I have had clinical depression since about 2008. It was most likely earlier than that, but a fairly passive attempt at your own life kind of sticks out to you, even years later, so that's generally where I ballpark things. I can remember walking from school to the babysitter's and just being over everything.

I grew up in a very small town. We didn't get a ton of traffic. There are two main roads that come into town and on this fateful day, there happened to be a semi-truck coming down the road. It was the dead of winter. Absolutely freezing outside. There was this massive vehicle coming my way and I had to cross the street. Any reasonable person could've figured out the timing correctly to cross without any issues. Truthfully, it was the only vehicle I'd seen in a couple minutes anyways. Then, I got this idea: fuck up the crossing on purpose so you cut off the semi. It's freezing out and the roads aren't good. If the semi can't stop in time, then that'll be that. If the jake brakes work, then I still need to be here.

Obviously, you can figure out where things went from there. I don't remember as much from my childhood as I should and it's 100% due to memory suppression. What's interesting about that is that the things I do remember stick out for very strong reasons. I had never played chicken with cars before. I haven't again since this one day.

I could discuss so much more detail about my lived experience, but I'm going to stop there for a few reasons. The first is that I love my family and friends and in the event that anyone I love reads this, I don't need to further break their heart with the level of darkness you get comfortable sitting in after a decade-plus of clinical depression. The second is that I didn't create this blog for the purpose of therapy. I am happy to report that I attend therapy once a week and the ability to talk to someone has become something I appreciate so much more as an adult. I had to go to court-mandated therapy with a psychologist as a teenager and I really hated it. I really hated everything though, so I never gave myself a fair share with psychology. It took another full mental breakdown and more mandated therapy to actually realize that I was wrong.

Instead, I want to talk about why I'm writing all of this very personal information in the first place. For a long time now, I have enjoyed writing. When I go visit my grandma, she still has some of the work I did in school. It's all dark. All of it. At the time, I just thought I was naturally good at writing. It came naturally. My vocabulary was always very solid because my mom made it a point to read to me a whole bunch as a kid. I also knew from trial and error that writing with depth was something I was capable of doing that escaped a lot of my peers at the time. The more I could really hammer home the emotions of my writing, the better grade I would get and the more revered my work would be. Ironically, I could never win an award for my writing in the annual writing contest we had in our county for all the high schools. In hindsight, the prompts just weren't dark enough. I also have some very strong memories of my mom wanting to be a writer. She took classes and worked on the craft all the time when I was a kid. When my parents divorced I stopped hearing about writing professionally, but to this day, she still writes in her journal every morning.

Fast forward many years and I'm in the process of trying to piece together some level of functionality in my life. Everything is difficult. Getting out of bed is difficult. It is extremely difficult to describe what the lowest lows of depression feel like. Unfortunately, most people don't need a description, as life generally hands everyone their ass at least once. So we'll do a quick exercise: remember how you felt at the worst point in your life. Whatever that time was, I am sorry for your experience. My depression and my empathy go hand in hand. I know what that feels like because I have been there. The easiest way to describe the experience of clinical depression is that you're overlooking that cliff of the depths of despair at all times. There could be no feasible reason why you feel so terrible, yet you're looking up from the bottom of that cliff. It doesn't have to make sense. That's what makes it clinical. There doesn't have to be a reason for it. That isn't to say you can't figure out a reason for it. Sometimes there is, sometimes there isn't; sometimes you just feel lost.

I should clarify - this example from the previous paragraph is a few years old. I wouldn't be able to function at the level I do now with everything I have going on if I were in the same space mentally. The reason I bring it up is that in all the time I've spent sitting with myself trying to figure out a way forward, there's always been that voice of empathy in my head. The invention of the internet has meant so much to so many people. The awareness that has been generated for mental health since I was a kid is incredible. It is so nice to know that I am not alone, as none of us are. Everyone struggles with something and even with a clinical condition, there are so many people who know how I feel because they share the same struggle. The empathy in me has always known that I need to do something to reach out and share. I found a lot of peace in music, listening to lyrics from artists who experienced similar things to my lived experience. If my experience can help even one person in the depths of their depression hell, it's worth putting out there for people to see.

I've had a lot of different ideas as to how to do this. Ironically, Depressive Hacks R&D was not made for this purpose. I have a lot of ideas for the future of DHR&D. This isn't about that. This is about trying to do something to help someone.

I've always wanted to write a book. Hopefully, someday, I will accomplish that. I've always thought that depression would somehow make its way into the book if I decide to write realistic fiction. I struggle with the genre; I don't like labels. I've also thought about making some other creative production about it. Creativity really seems to help. Music always has helped. Writing now helps too. There's something about it that is both therapeutic and humanizing.

Sharing my experience is the first time I've ever written about my depression in a structured setting. After years of thinking about it, I felt it was important to do it. Even if it isn't in the medium or format I'd always dreamed of, I'm still accomplishing a long-time goal the moment I hit publish on this blog post. That's good enough for me. Maybe someone reads this and feels less alone. That'd be an extra bonus. This post is for me, and for you, dear depressive reader, when you find yourself feeling the darkness close in with nowhere to run. You aren't alone. For everyone else who has their own battles to fight that aren't clinical depression, know you aren't alone in that either. We are stronger together. Hopefully, you gained some insight from reading this that you didn't have before. Hopefully, you learned something. That's the whole point here at Depressive Hacks R&D. Thanks for your time; bless you, dear reader.