Behind the Mask
Depression and Hope
I may be good at a lot of things, but asking for help is not one of them.
This is uncomfortable. You see, like many bright people, I have gotten entangled in my own mind. Telling the truth about where I am might be helpful, but I am also a bit terrified of the repercussions. In a lot of ways, I feel like all of us are much more comfortable with success stories that with struggle. Admitting to weakness seems inadvisable, especially in public, especially where there might be a record, especially when I know I am sick and half nuts.
Here I am, anyway.
One of my favorite recent discoveries is the writer James Altucher, who tends to tell the no-holds-barred truth. One thing he said that keeps resonating with me, is this:
“Every day I wake up and say, “I’m going to save a life”
I am here in part because I recognize that I need help. Saying so, publicly, is a way to force myself to look my problem square in the face and fight back. But I am also here because I know on some deep level that I am not alone in this battle, and maybe in some small way, telling my truth will move me in the direction of saving someone else’s life.
Right now, I think it is pretty safe to say that I am depressed. On New Year’s eve, for the second time in my life, I found myself at the beginning stages of planning my own suicide. For the first time in my life, I contacted a suicide prevention email hotline. Getting a response was enough to pull me back from the brink, and afterward, I found ways to get out and be with people who could remind me that my life is still worth living. A week into the new year, I am no longer on the edge of despair.
Still, I have never been so glad to see a year in the rear view mirror as I am to see 2013 go. It was by far the hardest year of my life, harder even than divorce and job loss, harder than the year I gave birth to my son, harder than the year my best friend discovered she had breast cancer, harder than anything.
It was so hard maybe because it was the year my confidence in myself was shaken. The year also started with the sudden death of someone I dearly loved. To say it was a painful experience is maybe obvious, but also true in a way that is difficult to even put into words in any other way but this: It fucking hurt. It still hurts.
His passing also caused me to stop in my tracks, step back, and reevaluate my life to date. I began to deeply question my past choices and to closely reexamine my priorities and values.
Grief is messy. It cuts deeper than anything I have ever felt. It shook me in places that I thought were stable and solid.
There was and is a lot more that I meant to say and want to say about this, but for now, let me end with this:
We all know that people struggle with depression and suicidal thoughts, but until recently I had no conception of how easy it is to conceal these things from other people. I am dead certain that you know someone right now who is fighting this same monster, and it may not be the person you expect.
It takes a lot to speak out. Shame is probably the worst serial killer in history.
As for what I need to get better, or what kind of help I am asking for, I am not quite sure, yet. For the moment I just want the relief of dropping the mask for all of ten minutes and saying, look, this is hard. If I knew what to do about it I would already be doing it. For now, it has to be enough that I am still here, that I am safe, and that I am working on solutions.
In 2014, I aim to get better. I will know I have succeeded if next New Year’s Eve I am able to feel for myself through and through that my being here is worth it, that I bring value to the world, that I deserve to exist, that I can trust in my own strength, that I am loved. Right now I know those things as intellectual truths, without being able to feel the emotional truth of them.
So here are some of my New Year’s Resolutions.
In 2014,
I will sing.
I will dance.
I will go to the beach on the anniversary of my friend’s death, and I will remember him and celebrate his life.
I will play music.
I will write. I will tell the truth.
I will paint something beautiful.
I will work for peace and justice.
I will fall in love again, even if I get my heart broken many times over.
I will hug my children.
I will cook something delicious.
I will eat chocolate pie.
I will ride on a unicycle.
I will ride on the back of a motorcycle.
I will start to learn French.
I will listen to awesome music.
I will spend time with people who inspire me.
I will listen to people who can teach me their own wisdom.
I will hold someone’s hand.
I will ask for help, even when it scares me to be vulnerable.
If you read this and you are struggling with depression currently, here is a link to the resource page I used to find help for myself, set up by friends of someone else who took his own life recently.
Right now I do not have the energy to help anyone else, but if you want to write to me at <jackinessity@gmail.com> I do promise to read your messages even if I might not have the resources to answer. It means a lot to me that you took the time to read this essay.
