My Battle With Depression

Day 2,727, 17:10 • Published in Ireland South Korea • by An Sluagh


eIreland has always had a rich history of articles that were just there for you to read. Four series which jump to mind right now are:

Wandering Rian's series about The Raven.
Applemans Quote of The Day.
John Gormleys Joke of The Day.
Brian O'Sheas poetry collection.

Anyway I am not writing a series - more of just an article for everyone to read, to enjoy and maybe even take something away from it. Why? Because last night on IRC I was speaking with Tara C who mentioned how she really wanted to write an article about something but she did not know about what. Me, being the self-centred arrogant 5h1t that I am suggested she wrote an article about me. In utter embarrassment she declined as she knows she does not have the artistic skills of a writer to capture the true essence of who I am. For that reason I have decided to write an article about me and my battle with depression.

I grew up as an athlete. I was winning numerous races, was making the national team in mountain running and was loving every achievement that came my way. My greatest achievement and self-fulfilment was when I was only 13. I was over in Cardiff running an international race which which I won - my first and only individual win on an international level. After the race my father who was on the phone to my mum back home in Ireland handed me the phone in a hug to speak to my mother, "I am so proud of you". I never felt so good, so loved or so proud. My athletics and sports was the foundation of who I was as an individual, it was my identity and gave some sort of meaning and path to my life.

Cracks began to appear in my dreams nearly a year and half later when I began to get pains in my back. I kept telling myself that it was only muscular and that it would pass. I didn't bother going to any physio or anything, I just continued on doing my sports (at this stage I was doing athletics and playing Gaelic football, hurling and soccer). I was training nearly nine times a week in total - all of my spare time was given to my sports. Yet I continued being ignorant and just wore heat patches, applied deep heat creams as I was always thinking my problem was muscular. After a few months of trying to put up with the pains I finally went to a GP (local doctor), got referred to a hospital for an X-Ray and then had to return to my GP to get the results - I was diagnosed with scoliosis.

The doctors told me I could continue with my sports, osteopaths told me I could continue without a problem and physio's told me I could continue without a problem. So I did. But nothing felt the same. I couldn't run to the same standard and everything just seemed to go downhill. I wasn't happy with myself.

With my sporting dreams fading in one sense, other things didn't go too well for me either. Several friendships fell apart, I was closing myself off socially and retreating into a shell. I don't know why or what for but I just felt fully useless. The fact friendships were failing, my sports were going downhill and social anxiety were making me feel lost within myself and unsure of who I was or what I was meant to be doing with myself. Inside school I didn't make any concrete friends until my final two years and even then I felt I was more of a nuisance to them than I was a friend. I had completely developed a hatred for myself and everything about me. My reasons might be nothing to you, but different things affect us all - this is scary thing about depression - it has so many ways to get at you.

Lets fast forward to last year. This is when I got bit the most and everything began to swell up, emotions became real and I knew I had a serious problem. Pretty much every single day I fantasised about death. I played out constant scenes in my head. Hanging myself. Cutting my wrists. Jumping off a bridge. Overdosing. I couldn't help myself. I had a complete lust to die. At this stage I had friends, good ones, great ones but my whole early years had affected my mentality and view on life. I saw no place for me in the world and I really wanted to die and it was not just the expression. One memory that even now stains my mind is coming home from a night out, I was alone and stopped on a bridge that went over a bypass. I stood there leaning against the railing for ten minutes looking down - wondering if the easy option was a good option. I took the difficult option and went home. So many nights I would cry alone in my room. I would just feel alone, abandoned, unloved, isolated - these negative thoughts would them infect me and spread across my brain, surfacing everything bad about my life that I could - again I would always play out my fantasies of death.

At this stage I was 18, an adult, a young man. Unfortunately but fortunately my mother came into my room to find me crying uncontrollably one night - in a sobbing rant that literally probably made no sense to her other than the fact that "I'm upset". She said about getting help, speaking to somebody, doing something to help me sort out my problems - stupidly I refused. See I always felt they were my problems and that I would sort myself out. I sat my Leaving Certificate (the most horrible exams you can sit - many Irish adults claim to still have nightmares about them) which was a struggle for me but I did it, well done to me......

We now reach last August. Things weren't better. I had given up entirely with sports and pains were now creeping in from just walking. Again I was found by my mother as an emotional wreck, this time I however I opened up about my feelings for suicide, how I wanted to die and felt that my life was not worth living. This struck her hard and she swore we were going to get help for me. The next day I was brought to meet a family friend who is one of the top psychologists in Ireland. I spoke my feelings and she said that it was mild depression - honestly I felt insulted, I had such lust to die, I had been unhappy with my life for four years and I was told that I was mild. The following day I was brought to my GP to again discuss my depression and get a referral for HSE counselling (public healthcare). My GP offered medication but I refused - I wanted to try sort myself out through talking before I turned to a medication. The following week I had blood tests to see if I had any imbalance in my blood or something which may be a factor behind my thinking (dunno, medical people?) and on that day I went straight from the doctors to receive my Leaving Certificate results (I didn't score as I was hoping and needed to get my college choice).... More misery for me.

It was then a week later I began private counselling as we didn't know how long I would be waiting to get into the public healthcare system. I found this counselling strange and was a bit unsure with how I felt with it. We focused mainly on mindfulness and controlling my thoughts but it never tackled my issues and why I felt like the way I did. The best way I could describe what I was being told to do is like walking down a street and nodding your head in acknowledgement at a person you don't like but not stopping to engage in a conversation with them. About 3/4 of the way through these sessions I hit another low point. I was at a party and had walked one of the girls I'm friends with to the tram stop as she was going home, I never felt right that night but as I was walking back towards the party I began to cry, and I couldn't stop. For about an hour I sat down against a rock in the green crying hoping for one of my friends to come looking for me, nobody came. I had left my mobile phone inside the house so didn't have that to message them to come to me but for at least one hour I sat out crying alone uncontrollably. Eventually three of my friends came looking for me, again another moment stained in my mind.

"Where the f**k have you been?" to which I burst into tears and hugged the first guy I could get my hands on, I really needed that f*cking hug. They then hailed a taxi and took me home. None of us spoke and never have about that incident since. It really is scary and shows the taboo that depression is. My three best friends didn't know what to say or how to handle it. Even to this day I question if they really know the extent of my problems.

The following morning I had a counselling appointment (still going private, this is now end of October). It was a tough session as I brought up what I like to think of as a "full on break-down". As my session ended I left the room shook and tearful, I felt sick and mortified. I was meant to go college but I didn't have it in me - I then had to ring my mum to come pick me (we had a nice argument over me not wanting to go college blah blah - typical mammy thing). She picked me up, I cried some more, I informed her of my breakdown and she said that we were going to go GP and get me on medication to help. So we did.

Skip forward a month and my medication is in full swing - it's actually amazing. I feel I want to take a break from my counselling but within 3 days I get a phonecall that the HSE were now able to provide me with counselling service - a good 3 months after I first applied. So I took them up (can't say no to free stuff). Here my counselling was entirely different - my psychologist was/is (still attending sessions) brilliant and went through my whole life, all my feelings and pieced together everything like a jigsaw. I actually looked forward to my sessions as I really could feel the progress I was making. Between good counselling and my medication I actually began to feel content with my life, I felt like I as an individual was taking shape as a new person and not trapped in the cracked old shell that I once was. Life wasn't good, it wasn't bad but I came to view it as - "life", if you can understand what I mean.

I am now at where I am. I still have suicidal thoughts but less frequently, I feel greater control on my emotions, I want to reduce the strength of my medication and I want to keep going the way I am. I feel like a human being? Apologies for vagueness in some areas - I didn't want to dive into the deep end and startle myself too much.

My advice to anybody who feels they suffer from depression - speak to somebody about it. They always say it helps and I at first-hand can say it does. You might feel like you are depressed but don't have a "valid enough reason" to be depressed but you do. If it makes you feel depressed - you are depressed and need help. I didn't want help, I took it. I didn't want medication, I took it. And now I feel the best I have ever felt since I was 13 and winning races internationally.

When I stood on that bridge looking down, I walked away. I took the difficult option and I learned - the difficult option is the good option.



Apologies for a poorly constructed article - I have been writing this piece by piece all day.

~Sluagh