I've had depression since my late adolescence and can pinpoint the first time I noticed it. I didn't receive a formal diagnosis of any sort until around a decade later. I can count maybe a handful of professionals out of dozens that were actually helpful back then and took a few minutes to truly listen and give a damn.
it's a bit surreal to be told "oh you probably have XYZ" only to have a doctor clarify later that they were more or less thinking out loud or presenting a possible diagnosis. comorbid conditions are difficult to diagnose since the symptoms often overlap, can create a feedback loop, can be mistaken for other illnesses, etc. being able to name what it might be was sort of helpful, but only up to a point.
before I was diagnosed, it was really confusing and painful to find that I couldn't sleep, couldn't think clearly, couldn't do any of the tasks that used to come so easily. I slowly realized that maybe something was wrong, but that was dismissed by indifferent medical personnel until it got so bad that I was taken to the hospital due to a stress breakdown. after I was diagnosed, it was some weird combination of relief and remorse -- I was glad that it wasn't "just me" or "all in my head" but also regretted that I hadn't pushed harder for assistance sooner.
it may be a cliche to hear "sometimes it gets worse before it gets better" but that was the case for me. I contacted a public health addiction services clinic after I made some bad decisions complicated by alcohol use / abuse and other maladaptive coping mechanisms. the people at the clinic were really helpful and I would've continued with that therapist, but there's a limit on the number of sessions, as there are so many people that need help and support.
I've been taking Wellbutrin for a few years and it's really helped me deal with the winter months, where the bottom drops out and my energy levels crash. before I was taking that, I functionally worked part time since I could barely drag myself out of bed for more than three or four days per week and was exhausted all the time. maybe if I had healthier habits all around I wouldn't need to take it (or perhaps a much lower dose), but during the winter, it's not a good idea to mess with it.
my psychiatrist had me try a few different meds based on what he thought might work. some did nothing and others were pretty bad. much like with diagnosis, it feels like a lot of the mental illness treatment is educated guesswork... throwing darts blindfolded until something finally hits the mark.
I haven't cut out drinking as of yet, although I have it more or less under control. part of my reluctance is a sunken cost fallacy, as I stocked up a home bar when I got curious about making cocktails during the pandemic...
the habits I still struggle with the most are avoidance (procrastination and isolation) and self-medicating (junk food, flopping after work to watch Netflix when my energy is low, and to a minor extent, drinking).
I'm certain replacing some of those less helpful coping mechanisms with healthier ones will make a big difference -- and I know from past experiences that it does. I just find it really hard to get started and stick with it consistently. winter months are always worse for me. even a small amount of progress on the things I struggle with goes a long way.
this is very true. whatever insight or lessons I've learned came as a result of living through it. it took me a long time to accept that depression was (and is) a major factor / complication for me without feeling like it's inherently "my fault" or that acknowledging that is just me making excuses.
as @SpaceDock suggested, success is perhaps more of a function of perception than any concrete reality. there are lots of examples where people who are successful by various metrics -- personal accomplishment, career achievements, wealth, recognition, whatever -- still struggle with depression and in some case find that achieving all that and still feeling low can make it worse. success isn't really an endpoint or a destination in that regard.
I consider it a success that my life is significantly better now than it once was. my girlfriend and I have been together for a few years now. we have a sweet, crazy puppy that always makes us smile, even when she drives us up the walls. finding some measure of acceptance with my struggles and recognizing that it won't ever be fully sorted out does help, most of the time.
out of the books I've read on the subject, this one written by a therapist with depression was one of the only ones that I've found useful and with any meaningful insight into the condition. if you know someone who maybe wants to understand what the condition is like, this is an excellent descriptive memoir re: depression. (I tried to keep the rambling to a minimum -- hopefully someone finds this post helpful.)
it's a bit surreal to be told "oh you probably have XYZ" only to have a doctor clarify later that they were more or less thinking out loud or presenting a possible diagnosis. comorbid conditions are difficult to diagnose since the symptoms often overlap, can create a feedback loop, can be mistaken for other illnesses, etc. being able to name what it might be was sort of helpful, but only up to a point.
before I was diagnosed, it was really confusing and painful to find that I couldn't sleep, couldn't think clearly, couldn't do any of the tasks that used to come so easily. I slowly realized that maybe something was wrong, but that was dismissed by indifferent medical personnel until it got so bad that I was taken to the hospital due to a stress breakdown. after I was diagnosed, it was some weird combination of relief and remorse -- I was glad that it wasn't "just me" or "all in my head" but also regretted that I hadn't pushed harder for assistance sooner.
it may be a cliche to hear "sometimes it gets worse before it gets better" but that was the case for me. I contacted a public health addiction services clinic after I made some bad decisions complicated by alcohol use / abuse and other maladaptive coping mechanisms. the people at the clinic were really helpful and I would've continued with that therapist, but there's a limit on the number of sessions, as there are so many people that need help and support.
I've been taking Wellbutrin for a few years and it's really helped me deal with the winter months, where the bottom drops out and my energy levels crash. before I was taking that, I functionally worked part time since I could barely drag myself out of bed for more than three or four days per week and was exhausted all the time. maybe if I had healthier habits all around I wouldn't need to take it (or perhaps a much lower dose), but during the winter, it's not a good idea to mess with it.
my psychiatrist had me try a few different meds based on what he thought might work. some did nothing and others were pretty bad. much like with diagnosis, it feels like a lot of the mental illness treatment is educated guesswork... throwing darts blindfolded until something finally hits the mark.
I haven't cut out drinking as of yet, although I have it more or less under control. part of my reluctance is a sunken cost fallacy, as I stocked up a home bar when I got curious about making cocktails during the pandemic...
the habits I still struggle with the most are avoidance (procrastination and isolation) and self-medicating (junk food, flopping after work to watch Netflix when my energy is low, and to a minor extent, drinking).I'm certain replacing some of those less helpful coping mechanisms with healthier ones will make a big difference -- and I know from past experiences that it does. I just find it really hard to get started and stick with it consistently. winter months are always worse for me. even a small amount of progress on the things I struggle with goes a long way.
this is very true. whatever insight or lessons I've learned came as a result of living through it. it took me a long time to accept that depression was (and is) a major factor / complication for me without feeling like it's inherently "my fault" or that acknowledging that is just me making excuses.
as @SpaceDock suggested, success is perhaps more of a function of perception than any concrete reality. there are lots of examples where people who are successful by various metrics -- personal accomplishment, career achievements, wealth, recognition, whatever -- still struggle with depression and in some case find that achieving all that and still feeling low can make it worse. success isn't really an endpoint or a destination in that regard.
I consider it a success that my life is significantly better now than it once was. my girlfriend and I have been together for a few years now. we have a sweet, crazy puppy that always makes us smile, even when she drives us up the walls. finding some measure of acceptance with my struggles and recognizing that it won't ever be fully sorted out does help, most of the time.
out of the books I've read on the subject, this one written by a therapist with depression was one of the only ones that I've found useful and with any meaningful insight into the condition. if you know someone who maybe wants to understand what the condition is like, this is an excellent descriptive memoir re: depression. (I tried to keep the rambling to a minimum -- hopefully someone finds this post helpful.)
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