Man Down… My Battle with Depression
And why it’s so important to speak out.
Living with depression
Depression is one of those things you’re sure won’t affect you — until it does. For me it just kind of crept up on me. My loved ones and friends noticed a difference in me, long before I did. As usual, I had my head buried deep in the sand. But things got worse and it started to affect my relationship with my wife and son. It was clear that I had to make some changes.
Dreaded antidepressants…
When my wife first mentioned antidepressants to me, I refused. Unfortunately, I was too proud and too uneducated to think they could help me. And to be honest I thought she was over exaggerating the situation. I didn’t need to go on antidepressants. As far as I was concerned they were awful pills with horrendous side effects.
But on the basis that my wife said she couldn’t go on anymore if this continued, I relented and booked an appointment. But me being me, and as always when I get a kick up the arse things got better — temporarily though. Yes, we fell into that trap. Things were better, perhaps I didn’t need to see the doctor after all? So I cancelled. A flood of relief swept through me. I wouldn’t have to face the embarrassment of going on the pills, or have to face the countless side effects.
I’m the first one to stand up for a better understanding of mental health. It’s so important that people should be able to talk about their struggles. It’s great to say that recently, with the help of many high profile celebrities discussing their battles with depression, the stigma attached has all but disappeared. But when I had to come to terms that I was struggling, and the talk of antidepressants was first mooted, I’m ashamed to say I was a bit embarrassed.
As I’m sure you can imagine things deteriorated again. I might have been in the room with my wife and son, but I wasn’t really there. I would no doubt have my phone in hand, addicted to its constant notifications. I would bury myself away in the bedroom, pretending to work but watching hours of Netflix instead. I’d get excited for very little, perhaps the football on a Sunday. Any form of escape, where I was able to do nothing but lay down. It was no way to live. There was no drive to do anything, no passion for life, even though I have the most beautiful baby boy. It’s important to state at this point there was no drive to hurt myself or end my life, I guess I was just struggling to find my place in the world, and still am, to be honest.
So I went back to the doctors, nervous about the whole thing. I thought I would be asked all sorts of awful questions, that the doctor would not be sympathetic and even refuse to give them to me on the basis that I wasn’t suicidal. Hell, I even thought they wouldn’t work for me because ‘I wasn’t that bad.’ My fears were allayed however, she understood, asked me a few questions and without hesitation prescribed Sertraline. She also put my mind at rest about the side affects, telling me that pregnant women can take them.
False Peak
Things improved when I went on the pills, after a week or so I started to feel better. I would have days where I felt really happy and positive. The doctor said that it could take three to four weeks for the tablets to kick in as they take a while to build up the levels of serotonin. But come week four and five I’ve taken a bit of a slump. I’ve not felt great over the last week or so, probably the fact that I had finally done something about it, the exhilaration if you will, of starting to deal with the problem, the placebo effect. And now perhaps I’ve come to the realisation that the tablets on there own are only part of the solution, that there is still a long way to go. Perhaps I need a larger dose? Whatever happens, I know I will beat it, there’s no other option, I can’t let my wife or my son down, or myself.
I thought I would end this with three quotes that perfectly sum up how depression has affected me.
“And something inside me just…broke…That’s the only way I could describe it.” — Renata Suzuki
It’s strange, because in a way it just hits you, for me I couldn’t necessarily pinpoint the reason for it, I also couldn’t say when I stopped feeling ‘happy’ and started feeling down.
“You look happy, but don’t feel happy. That’s what depression does to you.”
You put a brave face on things, you laugh and make jokes in the office, pretend and act like everything is okay. It’s almost a perfect mask that fools most people, but your best friends and close family can see right through it.
“Having anxiety and depression is like being scared and tired at the same time. It’s the fear of failure, but no urge to be productive. It’s wanting friends, but hate socialising. It’s wanting to be alone, but not wanting to be lonely. It’s feeling everything at once then feeling paralyzingly numb.”
Tired all of the time. Napping in the day and not feeling any good for it. My productivity at work nose-dived and my drive to get the work done wained until all I wanted to do was lay in bed until the day was over. Fear of failure is something I have battled for many years, long before the depression kicked in. It’s one of those things I’d really like to change about myself. It’s crippling, you don’t put yourself out there in case you fail. The fear then metamorphosis’s itself into frustration and anger that you only take out on your loved ones, for me, my wife.
I didn’t write this to bring attention to myself, or as a cry for help. I think the more people that talk about their struggle with mental health the more we can normalise it. Only then can we remove all the stigma surrounding it and reduce the number of deaths it causes. Thank you for reading.
