By Ross M
This is not an easy story to write.
Having danced around the subject for many years, even now it can be difficult to say the ‘D’ word. Finding myself existing not living , I was drowning without waving for help.
I Was In Denial for Years
I don’t normally have a trigger or a warning because it hits fast. It can last for as little as a few minutes to a few hours with the longest continual episode that I can remember lasting just under a month.
I was in denial for several years. There was no way that I had depression, not me. That happened to other people, weak people; I was strong, ex military. If battle didn’t faze me, this wouldn’t either. So, I toughed it out, denied anything was wrong.
Suddenly, I understood, I was wrong, and I needed help.
I Finally Began the Slow Road Into My Future
Fast forward to 2003.
I have a daughter who is four, and I’m still in denial. Not only this, I’m getting worse. My mind is badly messed up. I finally bowed to opinion, and let the few friends that I had left convince me to get help. This began the long, slow road to my future. My medication has been changed several times, the doses have varied, and I’ve tried therapy – one on one, not group – but I’m now at a point of relative balance.
I Take it Day by Day
I take it day by day. That sounds like a cliché, but it’s the truth. I’m still caught out occasionally, but although it gets bad at times, I can deal with it better than before.
It’s more complicated than this, more involved, and more personal, but it’s too much to go into here and now. If at all.
I owe my continued existence to my daughter. If it were not for her, I wouldn’t be here now typing this badly written account of my dance with the ‘black dog’.