An intruder called depressionPosted: January 17, 2015
Five years ago, depression broke into my life.
Its partners in crime – stress, worry and exhaustion – distracted me at the front door, while depression sneaked round the back.
Once inside, he made himself at home, feeding off my anxiety and insecurity, and using up all my energy. He took me hostage and made my life his own. I wasn’t looking forward to anything – everything we did seemed to be on his terms.
After a while, I got some help. Citalopram, an antidepressant, gradually offered me some protection against the tension and headaches, but it was counselling that really started to make a difference. Talking through my problems and how I was feeling helped me come to terms with it and think about what I could do to cope better with my enemy.
After a while, things seemed to be getting better, and I didn’t feel my intruder’s crushing presence as strongly. Had he gone?
Well, if he had, he hadn’t gone far.
Stress came beating on the door again, and this time depression’s attack was far less subtle. He flattened the front door, broke all the windows and beat me up. He cruelly brought insomnia with him. Sleep deprivation and dark moods are a destructive cycle. I had time off work, upped the dose of my Citalopram again, and returned to the counsellor a few months later.
I did find a new weapon against my enemy during that difficult time, though. I’d started a blog a couple of months earlier. It wasn’t about depression – it was about fun stuff like birds, Elvis and the seaside. But once I started to blog about my experiences of depression, I found loads of other people going through it too, or who had some experience of it – friends and strangers alike. Someone recommended a book called ‘Depressive Illness: The Curse of the Strong’ by Dr Tim Cantopher, and I found it was the only book on the subject that I could read and understand.
Along with these new allies, family and friends gave me invaluable support, and with further help from the counsellor and GP I started to fight back against depression. Eventually I was able to try reducing the dose of my antidepressants. It took a long time, but I stopped taking them last October.
So, does that mean depression has gone away for good? No, he doesn’t give up that easily. He keeps trying. He’s stubborn. Perhaps he gets that from me. There are times when it feels like he has gone far away, and other times when he’s got his nose pressed against the window, waiting for an opportunity to strike.
The crucial thing is that I know about him. I have exposed him and learned his tricksy ways. I know what he is up to. It is hard to keep an eye on him all the time, and it feels like I constantly have to outwit him, but now my intruder alarm is set to ring BEFORE he gets in.
- First published by York Mind.