The Demon in Depression

I’m what many people would consider a generally happy person. I love making people laugh (to the chronic irritation of my boss during managers meetings) and tend to try to look at challenges as “opportunities” rather than problems. I sing in the hallway of my workplace and start celebrating Christmas in June.

I also have a diagnosis of Major Depression.

Depression has impacted my family in multiple ways. My mother struggled with depression during my childhood. It wasn’t talked about during those years. These were the days of “Calgon, take me away!” when depression was viewed as a personal weakness. (I’d like to think that we’ve gotten beyond that now, but sometimes I’m not sure. We still don’t see medication for mental illness just as important as insulin for a Diabetic or Beta-Blockers for Hypertension.) My mother said on more than a few occasions that she wanted to kill herself. We never took it seriously. She never acted on it that I know of. She battled her demons the best she could and I have a deep admiration for how she managed without anyone actually acknowledging her pain.

I call depression a demon because it sneaks in, and makes you feel comfortable in an uncomfortable life. It keeps you company when you are alone and isolates you from those you love. It whispers in your ear that everyone would be better off without you and you start to believe it. Depression is a scratchy blanket on a cold night…it isn’t comfortable but sometimes all that you have.

As a young woman, I sparred with my own demons…the ones that prompted me to seek out “love” wherever I could find it. I had a wild streak and was unencumbered by things like self-respect. I was sought out by several older men and I willingly played the part of the young innocent girl from the time I was 16.  I told myself that I was enjoying life with no rules; I was in control.  Everything came to a head one night when one of the men vandalized my car and made threats about ruining my life. He didn’t have to try hard. I already felt worthless and trapped in this facade that nothing mattered to me. So I swallowed a bottle of the strongest medicine I had on hand – A sleep aid.

I remember being on the phone with my mother. She thought I was drunk. I couldn’t speak clearly and was crawling on the floor.  I started throwing up, fortunately. I was found by a friend vomiting up everything in my stomach.  At that point, I was coherent and scared and realized that I didn’t want to die. I was fortunate that there wasn’t anything stronger available that night. I didn’t seek treatment but did make some major changes in my life.

Years later, I started feeling things that reminded me of my mother. I also remembered what it was like to grow up hearing my mother want to hurt herself. I headed to the MD and sought help. I felt no shame. I was a nurse who worked in mental health and knew that my genetics were wired for Depression, as well as addictive behavior. It was pretty logical to me. I’m depressed…let’s get some help with that. I’ve been on and off medication over the years which has been effective…other than once. When I did everything that I know not to do as a nurse.

About eight years ago, I was on anti-depressants but was questioning if I needed to continue them. I was back on track. My weight was down and my depressive symptoms were gone.  I felt good…so I stopped taking the medication abruptly.  As a rule…don’t ever stop taking antidepressants suddenly. You have to taper off…for good reason. Your body needs time to adjust your Seratonin levels. There are many side effects to stopping suddenly, the most significant being suicidal ideation.

My mood sank quickly and I couldn’t stop crying.  Depression was not just whispering in my ear – it had taken up residence in my whole psyche.  I revisited every mistake I ever made as a parent. I looked at my inadequacy in protecting my mother when she had her accident. I could only see failure in every relationship and every aspect of my life.  I was convinced that everyone, including my children, would be better off without me. I spent a week pouring over our insurance policies. I just needed to find the best way to kill myself that would allow my children the most money…at least I could leave them that. Fortunately, my husband saw what was happening and dragged me into the MD for help. I was put back on medication and monitored as my levels returned to normal.

A month later, when I was stable, a car slammed on their brakes in front of me on the freeway. I fishtailed around them and avoided the accident. I often wonder what would have happened if the same car had been in front of me a month earlier. I think I would have just hit them, thinking that this was the way it was supposed to end. I look back on that time with a sobriety. I never thought I would end up there again…and yet it happened.

I’ve never struggled with those thoughts since but I know now that I not immune to thinking them. None of us are. I continue to monitor my emotions pretty carefully. I’m a generally happy person…that is well aware that I have Depression in my DNA. I have people close to me that know me deeply and will say something if I don’t seem myself.  Again – I’m fortunate because I have people that know that I struggle with depression. How many people are depressed and no one knows?  Apparently, quite a few.

Two well-known people committed suicide recently.  It’s brought up some soul searching for me. I’ve shared the story of my second bout of suicidal ideation with nurses as an example of why we need to ensure that patients know the risks.  I haven’t talked much about the first time. It stayed buried until now. It was just time to let it out.

Suicide has become the tenth leading cause of death in the United States, with 44,965 people dying at their own hand every year. (American Foundation for Suicide Prevention) We need to respond somehow. Our life is more than what we show on social media. It’s more than what we allow others to see. I’m known for being pretty happy-go-lucky and I thought about killing myself. What is happening in the other people that you know?  Ask questions if someone doesn’t look OK.  Ask questions even if they do. I am fortunate to be here. Maybe that’s why I sing in the hallway and try to make people laugh. I almost didn’t get to.

Pass on the link below. You never know who you can help.

If you are in crisis, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK (8255) or contact the Crisis Text Line by texting TALK to 741741.