Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash
Even when things are going pretty well, I sense my depression hanging around.
It’s not badgering me. I don’t feel my depression watching my every move. Heck, it’s not visible at all right now. But still, I know it is there, ready to jump in at a moment’s notice.
I guess this is to be expected.
Afterall, my depression and I go back almost 60 years. Having spent most of my life intentionally ignoring my depression, I suppose I am making up for lost time. Until I advocated for admission to 5 North, I had always looked the other way.
And as soon as my depressive episode ended, I was sweeping the crumbs under a rug and walking away as if nothing had happened.
There were many opportunities to understand what had happened, but I would have none of that. In fact, it wasn’t until my time in 5 North that I used the word depression to describe myself. Until then, I purposely did not examine what was happening. My depression had free rein and I was completely unaware of what I was experiencing.
Concealed depression and I have always been best buddies, I just didn’t recognize it.
There were months at a time where my day consisted of sleeping as long as I could, then heading to work. At work, I was high functioning, using my energy to appear positive and in control. Some days it took every ounce of that energy to be “normal†during my shift at work. Then, after getting home, I would make up excuses for going to bed early.
In bed, I could decompress and recharge for the next day’s adventure.
What I have finally learned about depression is that I should have started learning about it sooner. 60 years is a long time to avoid the subject of depression. Maybe if I had started facing it sooner, I would have made better choices. I might have understood more about what was going on under the hood.
Of course, now I am shoulding all over myself.
And wishing I had made a different decision is something I could apply to many critical depression related crossroads. Perhaps I would not have had a lost year. I might have stayed in my GM role and found people who would help me learn more about my role. Then there’s the fact that I might have not traded commodities, or tossed out 40 years of planning and retired early.
So, depression and I will grow old together.
I can keep an eye on it by keeping it out where I can see it. And with all I have learned about depression, I have a range of tools that I can use to keep depression visible. Plus, I have a team of peer advocates who are keeping an eye on my progress. I do not fear the abyss, as I continue to learn about depressions tricks.
