I was introduced to depression at an early age. When I was ten years old, my oldest brother Shawn endured a nervous breakdown and was soon diagnosed with manic depression. Although I did not completely grasp what manic depression was, through the years I began to develop and absorb what it was, the cause and affects of the illness, and the emotional toll it took on oneself and the people around you. Little did I know that one day I would be tortured by depression myself.
It started in my adolescent years, but didn’t completely flourish until I was in my early 20s. As a teenager, I would go through brief bouts of gloom and doom. Normally it revolved around the typical teenage angst, like being popular or fitting in. Regardless of how advantageous things may have been in my life, I was always able to find something unsatisfying about my circumstance. It’s as if I purposely sought a reason to feel down. My Primary Care Physician attempted to put me on Zoloft, but I denied the help. I didn’t want the little purple pill to change me. I thought I was string enough to handle it myself.
When I was 22 years old, my other brother Jarrod was killed by a drunk driver. Initially, I held up very admirably. I was strong for my family, which included my mother, brothers and sisters, as well as my brother’s 18 month year old son Jarrod Jr. But two years later, my universe decayed around me. One day I was doing splendidly, and the next day I cracked. It seemed like severe depression and anxiety had settled in my head overnight, and in the summer of 2006, I became a complete shut in. I was depressed about the loss of my brother, the loss of my business, and unhappy about my life in general. Despite knowing that I had good things in my life, like I owned a house and had a supportive family, I couldn’t help but feel displeasure and unhappiness. My depression caused me to sleep 12-14 hours a day, and the rest of that time was spent in front of a computer talking to anybody who would listen. My anxiety drove me to agoraphobia and I refused to abdicate the house. After four months, I had lost almost everything. With no option left and at the urging of my doctor, I started taking Lexapro, an anti-depressant and anti-anxiety medication.
To say Lexapro was a complete cure would be a distorted statement. But it did take the edge off, and I was able to become a functioning member of society again. It healed a lot of my anxiety, but I still suffered from some depression. The bouts came less often and were short in duration. Life wasn’t perfect, but I was able to pick up the pieces and rebuild what I once had.
In 2011, my oldest brother, the one who was diagnosed with manic depression when I was ten, died from pneumonia at the age of 36. In less than 7 years, I lost my two older brothers. But rather than turn inward, I started to battle outward. I was depressed, but I used my brother’s experience in life to inspire me to become a better person and live my life to the fullest. My brother’s lifelong fight with depression caused him to lose everything and become disabled. I didn’t want to become that man. So, I started to work my way out of the hole I allowed myself to be placed.
Fast forward to today, and I am still a depression sufferer. I am no longer ingesting Lexapro or any medication for my diagnosis. I decided to get off medication because its usefulness had slowly worn off and I found no usage in accessing an anti-depressant that still allowed me to have moments of hollowness. Nowadays I speak to a counselor a couple of times a month and try to work on myself through meditation and yoga. Though I feel depression and anxiety still exists within me, I can talk myself into remembering that the bad days will pass, and that good days will come again soon.
It is a constant conflict. It’s a battle that, unless you have experienced it, you will never comprehend it. Some people believe that depression can be cured by a simple pill, but it’s not that effortless. It’s similar to an alcoholic who struggles everyday to remain clean and sober. Everyday he wants to reach for a drink, but it takes will power to stand his ground and say no. Same with depression. Everyday depression creeps in and tries to snuggle up close. But I, along with millions worldwide, decide to fight the battle rather than letting the blues win.
