Taboo. It’s hard to think that, in the 21st Century, taboo
is a word that is still associated with mental illness. Growing up in Lower
Sackville, a suburb of Halifax, mental illness was not something that was
talked about in my family. I was first diagnosed with depression in 1997, and
it was then that I realized that I had experienced my first depressive episode
when I was in high school, back in 1990. But because mental illness was not something
that we talked about, I didn’t know that it was in fact depression that I was
suffering from.
Today, I’m participating in Bell Canada’s Let’s Talk initiative because I believe in
the importance of breaking down the barriers associated with mental illness. That’s
why I’d like to share a blog post from January 2011, “And the Walls came
Tumbling Down,” when I had to, once again, confront depression.
And the Walls came
Tumbling Down
First posted 14 January 2011 on
my blog, An Unscripted Life of Words
For the last four days I’ve been holed up in my
apartment. I’ve let the phone ring and go to voice mail. I haven’t returned
calls. I didn’t even check for mail. I’ve written about this before — my
current battle with depression. I thought I was coping well, and that I had
done the right things: recognized the signs, sought professional help, ensured
I was keeping physically active, established a support system among my circle
of friends. Despite my best efforts, despite trying to stave off depression,
but still my walls came tumbling down.
Well before the Christmas holidays I felt myself
slipping away. While I was getting up early to write before heading to work,
not much was happening. I knew that it was more than writer’s block. I couldn’t
hold my focus. I couldn’t gather my thoughts. I was agitated, nervous. There
were moments when I panicked for no apparent reason, often on the verge of
tears. I felt completely overwhelmed, the weight of the world on my shoulders,
like I was spinning, spinning, spinning. I spun right out of control.
Monday
My head throbbed with pain. I had barely slept
the night before. I was exhausted, and I couldn’t do anything without feeling
like I had run a marathon (without training!).
Tuesday
I felt like I had an eighteen wheeler parked on
my chest. I roamed about in a complete daze, the migraine from the day before
still lingering on the heels of a second restless night. I tried editing a
piece of writing, but it was like I was circling, trying to come in for a
landing but always overshooting the runway.
Wednesday
When my alarm went off at six o’clock, I dragged
myself out of bed to feed the cats, meowing outside my door for close to an
hour. Like on that first cold day of winter, my engine wouldn’t flip. And when
it finally started, I couldn’t get it out of first gear. I didn’t have any
energy. In a matter of speaking, I had flat lined. I crawled back into bed and
stayed there, fading in and out of consciousness until I was able to talk
myself out of bed at 3:30 p.m.
Thursday
I left my apartment for the first time in four
days as I had an appointment with my doctor. I had involuntarily disconnected
myself from the world. When my doctor asked me how I was doing, I had to check
my tears. The new medication I had switched to just before Christmas was
working slightly better than the previous one, but my head, as was my heart,
was still heavy. I didn’t know how I was going to make it through this
difficult period. I was at a loss. How had I arrived at this point? What could
I do to get past all of this? How long would it take? My doctor listened
patiently to my litany of complaints. Together, we decided on a course of
action.
Friday
I woke up this morning tired, and still feeling a
bit lost, but hopeful. Chuck T. Falcon asks us to “Remember sadness is always
temporary. This, too, shall pass.” I am determined that depression will not
have dominion here.
Postscript
That was me three years ago when depression had a mighty grip on me. Things
are much, much better now. I’m no longer on medication. I am back to work. I feel
good, and safe in the knowledge that depression does not have dominion here. The
hope is to remain healthy. But, you know, when I’ve had to battle depression, I
have been so fortunate to have the support, love, encouragement and
understanding of friends and family. They saw me through the good times and the
challenging times, and, for me, that has made all the difference.
You are so well-loved! And I am very proud of you for sharing your story.
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