Depression

Reading time: 2 mins

It feels odd to discuss it after almost a year. It was a strange period of my life.

My overall memory was of a feeling of numbness, that nothing was really happening, that I was stuck in a weird dream. I could hear myself talking, saying horrible, horrible things but it didn’t seem like me. I was detached to the point of self-delusion. It felt like there was a glass wall between me and the rest of the world.

Of course, from my point of view I was fine. Yes, I’d made a few major decisions, one which I will regret for the rest of my life, but Louise came back. Trouble was I couldn’t figure out what all the fuss was about. I felt nothing, thought little (to begin with) and let my life unravel.

I do remember that my concentration was completely shot, my mind would veer off constantly, I couldn’t take any thought through to its conclusion, and whilst day-to-day activities weren’t a problem, as soon as I had any free time I would end up sitting, thinking about a million and one things, and not registering any of them. That was when I started writing. It was a way to capture my thoughts, to help me retain a sense of sanity. I would return to the writings, and start over, but each time it would descend to nothing more than a ramble. Slowly the ramble started making sense.

Admitting you have a problem is the first step. I started worrying about my state of mind, and looking back I had started to come out of the numb state I was in. All of a sudden I realised I was alone and I wasn’t coping. So I decided to get some help, that buzz word of the late 90’s – counselling.

A few counselling sessions later – voilá – I was cured. No it wasn’t that easy, but I was helped by the fact that I could analyse my own thoughts, in the end all I was getting out of the sessions was agreement.

As is the same the world over I have several traits and personality quirks that I can trace back to my parents, and further back to theirs. My main problem was that I hadn’t ever realised who I was, I had the impression that I was living a life that was expected of me, and yet I was constantly telling myself (and others) that my parents brought me up to be free thinking, and let me build my life the way I wanted it. The path I took was to try and create the son I thought they wanted. Of course all they wanted was me, however I turned out. I came out of the counselling sessions searching for myself, and slowly I’m beginning to find the real me.

I was pessimistic, always looking for negatives, I have failed many times, and hurt many people, friends and family alike. Now I no longer dwell on matters I can’t control, and I’m constantly looking for positives, although I do still keep a wary eye on the negatives, it’s now a sideways glance every now and again.

The main positive: Louise and I are now stronger than we ever were, or ever thought we could be, and that is one of the oddest things – that so much good should come out of my depression. Add to that a much stronger relationship with my parents, and all in all the last year has been the best I can remember.