“The D Word.”

It always starts out so out of the blue, doesn’t it? It’s a range of unprecedented emotions all at once that gather into a cloud of constant worry and misery in our minds. Initially I always believed that it was just an aspect of my psychological development, it was something that would pass… Like the swings in mood attributed to your adolescent coming of age, or more simply put — puberty.

I assumed this, so felt no real desire to discuss it with anyone — not even my own GP. This was a naive thing to do in hindsight, but as a parallel to that it wasn’t naive — as I had no real experience of it, to gauge it against.

I literally had no idea that this could ever be what it was. I was always the happy; energetic, lively, high-spirited, positive and emotionally active character. I’ve also always been a person very much concerned with how others were feeling, thinking and desiring. Taking this into account, I was well aware that this was a thing. I knew only too well that it was a major part of a lot of people lives, and more intimately, a part of people I cared about’s lives.

As it’s journey within my mind progressed and took further control, this ultimately lead to me doing that global tradition of consulting good ole’ Google. It was apparent immediately that what I was experiencing was depression. This was almost a year after these symptoms developed, in my early twenties.

It’s this part of the journey where everything got much more complex and conundrum-like. There’s a bunch of parts of my life that could have caused this, and indeed I’m aware of them all — but why now, or why then? What was the trigger or catalyst for unleashing such a major controller over my life?

I’d smoked dope, had relationships end badly, been affected by the cruellest happenings all over the world. I was aware that a lot of others weren’t as fortunate as I was — and on a larger part — I’m part of the community of thousands of young people with experience of being cared for by the state as a child and youth… To name but a few.

It could have been one of those things, but also it might not have been. I know people who have been through all of those things to a great level. They’re not depressed, so why am I?

Being in that constant state of questioning everything. If you have a computer with 100 tabs open, it’s likely not going to be able to process as well as if there were only 5 tabs open.

The state of our ability to juggle tasks when we have only a few thoughts in our minds at any given time — rather than everything all of the time.

Add all of that to the situation where men ‘can’t be depressed’, ‘it’s only man-flu’, ‘ach, snap out of it man.’…

Confidence annihilated. Self-esteem annihilated. Vitality annihilated. Intimate relationships annihilated.

It. Destroys. Everything.

All that I once was, was no more. I was now this guy that was, and is perpetually in a state of exhaustion and anxiety.

But this can’t continue, I want to be that lively active person again. I thought I should go to my doctor. It’s time to address this. I went, I saw and I was handed a pile of pills and told to take them each day… No examinations, no conversations, no nothing.

You’re depressed. Take these.

And so I did, but continued to not discuss this with anyone else. I would hide my pills where no one could find them. Take them each day. Embarrassed that this was now my existence.

The extreme lows I was facing were now introduced to a new friend to help them along their way: suicidal idealisations. If I’m no longer here, then I don’t need to tackle this daily mountain that gets bigger and bigger each day, and lesser and lesser enjoyable to get to the top of.

This wasn’t the case before trying “medically professionally prescribed drugs.”

I then ceased to continue taking these pills. In fear for my own life.

Enter: drugs and alcohol.

It always feels good, doesn’t it? That’s why so many folk do it. It’s an escape into all that is fun and exciting for a few hours. You wake up feeling a bit weird and unsociable but after a few hours you’re back to being human and can get on with it.

For those that use these substances purely for recreational purposes — it’s fine, in moderation at least.

For me, I’d take them at parties, take them at after parties and then continue to take them at what I would go on to name the “after, after party.”

When everyone was headed home around 6:00am, I would remain to keep it going in a desperate and fruitless attempt to return to that state of absolute nothingness.

The only part of my existence being anxiety and exhaustion. Still relentlessly trying to believe that this thing would eventually pass.

It never.

Those couple of days partying would always make everything seem great, but try dealing with a comedown coupled with depression — unsustainable as fuck.

Neuroticism always prevails. Suicidal idealisations continue.

Still I felt that I couldn’t speak to anyone about this, there was no real conversations at my level of society available — not that I could find, and I’m a relatively popular and liked person.

23, depressed and the feeling of no escape.

I’m going to do a few segments of this topic over the next few weeks, and continue to speak about my own journey with depression.

I’ll discuss: relationships, isolation, discovery of support, seeking support and situations where depression has affected others in my life.

The story of my realisation that this is what I want to spend the next years of my life doing: helping those with similar experiences and creating a broader discussion on why it needs to happen across all levels of society.

Will post (Part two) on the evening of the 5th of October.