This is going to be a tough discussion.
Not easy to type either. Or talk in person, or even think about.
But depression is a bitch. And I have it.
I don’t know when. I don’t know where. I don’t know why. But I have it.
On the outside, you would never know it. Hell, people in my “inner circle” wouldn’t even know. I’m an excellent actor. After all, I am an introvert that does a ton of public speaking.
I’m not in the medical field. I have no real research, so this blog is only going to be about my experience. Don’t take it as medical advice.
Seriously, please don’t.
But I have to talk about it. If anything maybe it will be beneficial for me. I don’t know if we introverts have a higher rate of depression or not. It would seem to make sense to me since many of us cherish our alone time. But with alone time comes that dreaded thinking time.
A little history about me.
I grew up in a middle class family. A happy family for the most part. After graduation from High School I joined the Army and spent four years being a soldier. A successful soldier.
When it was time to get out, I did. A buddy and I drove around the country in a U-Haul truck until we ran out of money in a small town in Montana. If you have been to Montana, most towns are small.
About a year later I moved to the capitol city, and even though I struggled to get back in “civilian mode”, I was fortunate to land a decent job that allowed me to pursue my degree while working.
College came much easier to me than High School did, and I graduated with a 3.5 gpa.
I met my wife (The Hippy), we got married and enjoyed travel vacations as my career became more and more successful. We were able to buy a house, and though it took a long time, were blessed with an awesome son. We’ve also been blessed enough that The Hippy has been able to be a Stay-at-Home mother for that awesome son.
So why do I battle that bitch depression?
I don’t know.
I do know that I would go through what I called my “blue” periods at times before my diagnosis.
They didn’t register much to me though. It was in my mind it was just my time that I needed to be alone to recharge. Perhaps it was.
Perhaps I just didn’t recognize the truth.
Finally a little over a year ago I told my doctor that I thought I might have a little depression.
But when I got my prescription, it was an eye opener. My bottle had the lovely diagnosis on it of treatment for “major depression.”
To be honest, it was kind of a relief. I didn’t have to wonder. I didn’t have to WebMD myself. It was in black and white.
So it’s been over a year now. My meds have been increased slightly once, but for the most part it helps. People still don’t know. People would be shocked. When someone asks how I’m doing as part of opening a conversation, I don’t really answer. My answer is, “How are YOU doing?”
I still have times when I am sitting alone “recharging” when I wonder if I am really recharging or being depressed.
When I was down in Denver last week I had the opportunity to have dinner with a high school buddy of mine. I haven’t seen him since we graduated nearly 25 years ago. I haven’t seen anyone from high school since then since I don’t live in Colorado anymore.
I actually was hoping during the day of our bro-date that he would cancel. This was a good friend of mine. Someone I still consider a friend through Facebook. But I just wanted to sit in my hotel room, order room service, and do nothing.
He didn’t cancel.
I’m glad he didn’t.
I enjoyed reconnecting with him. It was by far the best part of the entire week. He’s also kind of a hippy dude, like my wife.
The moral, if there is one…if you “think” you may be battling depression, talk to your doctor about it.
I didn’t want to. I don’t know how long I have been suffering, but I didn’t want to admit any weakness. But I am better for it.
Yeah, I have to take some meds each morning. If I miss them I have some pretty jacked up dreams at night. But ultimately I think it makes me a better person.
You deserve to be better too.