On Depression & Getting Help

robdelaney:

This was originally posted February 26, 2010.

I deal with suicidal, unipolar depression and I take medication daily to treat it. Over the past seven years, I’ve had two episodes that were severe and during which I thought almost exclusively of suicide. I did not eat much and lost weight during these episodes. I couldn’t sleep at all, didn’t even think about sex, and had constant diarrhea. The first thing I did each morning was vomit. My mind played one thought over and over, which was “Kill yourself.” It was also accompanied by a constant, thrumming pain that I felt through my whole body. I describe the physical symptoms because it helps to understand that real depression isn’t just a “mood.” These two episodes were the most difficult experiences of my life, by a wide margin, and I did not know if I would make it through them. To illustrate how horrible it was, being in jail in a wheelchair with four broken limbs after the car accident that prompted me to get sober eight years ago was much, much easier and less painful. That isn’t an exaggeration and I hope it helps people understand clinical depression better; I’m saying that I would rather be in jail in a wheelchair with a body that doesn’t work than experience a severe episode of depression.

To clarify the timeline, I got sober eight years ago and my first episode of depression was seven years ago. I had been in talk-therapy with a psychologist for months and was getting used to life without booze. It’s my understanding that it’s not terribly rare for someone in early sobriety to get depressed. I started to exhibit the symptoms I described above and had no idea what was happening. My psychologist urged me to see a psychiatrist, as did my family, among whom alcoholism and depression are old pals, so to speak. Everyone wanted me to go on medication, except me. I felt that it would be “weak” to do so and that I could soldier through and get a handle on it. But everything got worse and it was terrifying. Most of my thoughts were telling me to kill myself and I began fantasizing constantly about suicide. The images of my head being blown apart by a shotgun blast or me swimming out into the ocean until I got tired and drowned played over and over in my head. My whole body hurt, all the time. 
Fortunately, a tiny part of me recognized my thought process as “crazy.” I knew that if anyone other than me was describing these symptoms I would lovingly handcuff them and take them to the hospital and help the shit out of them, whether they liked it or not. So I tried very hard to step out of myself and look at the situation with a modicum of objectivity and “imagine” that I was someone who deserved help. 
Quite literally I thought, “I don’t think anyone else would shoot me with a shotgun, so maybe, temporarily, I’ll postpone that and try this Lexapro that everyone who knows me is recommending.”
It worked. It wasn’t magical, but it addressed some chemical issues in my brain that allowed me, gradually, to feel better and actually experience my life. I ate again, slept again, got boners when I encountered attractive women, and made normal number twos when I went to the bathroom. I didn’t and don’t feel euphoric all the time or anything. I still get angry, sad, and afraid sometimes. But I also get happy, excited, and horny too. I experience the full range of human emotions, rather than just one horrible one. 
Just under eighteen months ago, after a couple of years of both my marriage and my decision to pursue comedy full-time, I experimented with a lower dose of medication and had another episode. It was as bad or worse than the first one, but thankfully I had some idea of how to deal with it. This episode drove home the knowledge that, like alcoholism, depression demands respect and attention. Whether it’s a “good” thing or a “bad” thing, I cannot pretend to know, but it exists and it can kill you dead.
My psychiatrist adjusted my dose and I got feeling better over time. If you know me personally, all this information may surprise you, as I think I generally have a pretty sunny demeanor. For most of my life, I’ve been a happy, optimistic guy. But for whatever reason, I’ve had depression of a serious, life-threatening nature rear its head a couple of times. 

The sole reason I’ve written this is so that someone who is depressed or knows someone who is depressed might see it. While great strides have been made in mental health over the years, certain stigmas still exist. I strongly resisted medication at first. But after having been through depression and having had the wonderful good fortune to help a couple of people who’ve been through it, I will say that as hard as it is, IT CAN BE SURVIVED. And after the stabilization process, which can be and often is fucking terrifying, a HAPPY PRODUCTIVE LIFE is possible and statistically likely. Get help. Don’t think. Get help.

Overdue Gratitude

Life has been extra busy lately, but there’s plenty to be grateful for and I need to remember that. 

Today I am grateful for the opportunity to do a demo lesson at Paramus High School, where I student taught last fall. Moreover, I’m grateful for the phone call I received from Tenafly High School saying they have a full-time position available — and they’d like to consider me for it if I’m still interested.

Even though I’ve yet to secure full time employment for September, these little nibbles on my experience are enough to evoke thankfulness.

I am so thankful for the gorgeous sunshine and mild weather the East Coast is having today. Even if I am stuck at work until 7 p.m.

I can’t find a lot to be grateful for today. I spent the whole morning willing a list of gratitude together but it kept falling apart. This is a difficult day.

I am grateful that my wrists and ankles are pretty.

Union of strangers

Grateful for moments when i’m transported away from my burdens, to a place of peace, where I think about others and their sufferings.

Walking along Piccadilly Circus today,we stumbled upon St James, a quaint church, with a romantic courtyard, where strangers all sat, reading and resting in the sunshine.

We went into the church and lit candles. I looked at the prayer board and prayed for strangers suffering from various illnesses.I’m thankful that although they don’t know me,I am rooting for their wellness and past experiences with sickness in my family, has helped me understand the nature of their pain,which feels unifying.

Gratitude that spreads, like daisies

It’s late Saturday night and I’m grateful for:

- A Saturday spent reading, because for once work is not breathing down my neck like a dragon
- Being able to do Mother’s Day tomorrow with a loving and kind family
- Making the effort to be positive ad kind
- Seeing that pay off in unexpected ways, sometimes professionally … But I’m so happy I’m at a point where the “professionally” can be a secondary benefit — not a reason to exist
- Feeling loved from all sides
- The bounty I feel — like as if there’s so much to give, and it doesn’t subtract from me
- The sunshine in Paris when I did my shopping on the rue Mouffetard
- Living a kind of dream, full of activity, people and gratitude
- Not wanting anything. Thank you, the most, for this.

I’m not religious, but in recent days I increasingly think of this Bible verse: “As God feeds the sparrow, so too shall he feed you.” It’s like a balm. There’s no reason to worry: I feel that where I am and what I’m doing is right. I feel I am who I need to be right now. And it means so much to be able to accept that instead of fretting about where my career is headed, whether I’m making good long term choices, if my personal brand or whatever is clear enough…

The buzzing’s stopped. Everything is okay, and that is enough. And it’s more than I could have imagined.

I’m grateful for a milestone in my career that falls directly in step with a hard transition.

It reminds me that hard work, dedication and patience do pay off and are worth it: every. single. day.

I’m grateful for the photos of my growing kitten and that in July I’ll be a kitty mommy to a striped grey monster that has already been dubbed Lord Baelish.

I’m grateful for an upcoming 48 hour vacation that will remind me to breathe, will let me see the sea, and let me explore my man’s life.

And perhaps, the most gratitude I have felt is to the last year: all of it, the people that have come, the people that pushed me, supported me and helped me to be more stable and actualize myself as the person I always thought I wanted to be. The tough stuff, the amazing stuff, the crazy stuff, the calm stuff… It was fucking tough, but somehow I made it through. I’m still standing, still breathing, except now I’m smiling a bit more, feeling free, liberated and fulfilled.

Fuck yeah.

Last-Final-Exam-Period Gratitude

I am grateful for:

• The macbook that has yet to fail me over the last two years, even though I keep in on nearly 24/7
• A good eye for photography, even if it’s just through my phone
• The deep sleep that I’ve been getting, my body’s way of forcing me to rest 
• The lively dreams
• Friends who feed me
• Friends who are adventurous enough to eat what I feed them
• The will to turn away cigarrettes and pick up lattes instead
• That tomorrow, at noon, is the last graduate school exam that I will ever take. I feel overwhelmed right now, but know that I will make it through.

Moving

I’m grateful for:

• The new apartment, which, after 3 days of work (and nowhere near completion), is finally starting to smell more like us and less like weirdy things.
• The cat, who loves us enough to sense where we are and sit under the new apartment, waiting for us to reappear.
• Orange juice in the morning.
• Spring rain.
• Electric sanding machines that make me feel burly and lumberjackish.
• Friends who help you move.
• The pleasure of reorganising a bookshelf that’s brand new.
• The man who welcomes me into his arms at day’s end, or anytime, no matter who’s watching. 
• Haruki Murakami, because his books are saving me.
• My sister, without whose conversations I’d laugh a whole lot less.

Age

I’m grateful that I’m much older now. I’m more comfortable with my needs and wants, and now spend more time and energy pursuing those goals. I make decisions with long-term impact on my life without feeling the need to consult so many folks, a huge difference from just two years ago. I’m more confident. I’m grateful to being better able to discern people who are worth keeping, and people who are better when forgotten. I’m grateful for the will to always try, the struggles of the past couple of years, and my ability to rise. Every. Single. Time. Rough times feel smoother because I know my way through them.