It doesn’t come in a sling. It doesn’t wear a bandage. It doesn’t use a crutch.
Perhaps, if it did any of those things, it would be more recognisable, more important, to those lucky people that don’t suffer from it.
But it doesn’t.
Depression is not a choice. It is not a state of mind to ‘get over.’ It is not something we can control. We would love to decide when it hits and when it doesn’t.
But we can’t.
Yesterday I told my boss that I have suffered from depression for 43 years. He wasn’t even born 43 years ago. He was brilliant. Supportive, helpful, compassionate. I wish everyone who suffers worked for as good an employer as I do.
But they don’t.
Please help. You can’t see depression. You can’t hear it. You can’t touch it. But, really, you can do all of those things.
You can see your friend’s moods, and how they change. You can hear your friend, and how their voice lowers, how their speech slows. And you can feel their tears, their emotions, how everything is right at the surface. You can touch their pain.
You can’t help us depressives.
Oh, but you can.
Moose the Mooche says
Better out than in my friend.
And The ‘Nile is always welcome
X
niallb says
Indeed, on both counts.
mikethep says
I have no idea what it’s like to be clinically depressed. Oh but I do. I read your posts. I hope they help you. They certainly help me.
niallb says
Thanks, Mike. That’s a wonderful thing to say.
bricameron says
I’m not sure I entirely agree that the sufferer can’t help themselves also.
niallb says
Sure, after over 40 years of it, I know not to put myself in certain situations. And sometimes, I can feel it coming, so I can warn my wife and she can help.
Avoiding cretins on social media who want to tell me to cheer up helps as well.
dai says
Bri may be alluding to self medication, particularly the stuff you smoke which is probably much more helpful than e.g. alcohol when it comes to chronic depression.
Carl says
I disagree about smoking substances. I gave up more than 30 years ago because dope smoking was giving me feelings of anxiety and paranoia.
dai says
Works for some, not for others.
Moose the Mooche says
….Pretty much anything is better than alcohol, in this context, innit?
bricameron says
https://www.leafly.com/news/health
Tiggerlion says
Hmm. Something about that website makes me wonder how biased it is.
Mike_H says
I know one person it worked really well for, but there are many stories of people for whom it’s been disastrous.
JustB says
And let’s not forget that anecdote data. That one person, despite being an outlier, is likely to convince quite a lot of people that weed+depression = a good combo. Sadly.
Gary says
I’ve only ever felt genuine depression/anxiety once in my life. It was two years ago after a car crash and I was laid up in bed for a few weeks. As a total gym-and-swim enthusiast, I found the sudden complete inactivity played chemical havoc on me, sending my mind to a place I hope never to return to. I’m also a moderate stoner and I found smoking during that period was a massive mistake. It exacerbated the depression/anxiety a thousandfold. Once I started getting physically well again, it was forcing myself to excercise, beginning with walking, that got my mind back to its usual state of happy-go-lucky bewildered indifference. I appreciate that everyone is different, but I’d definitely advise against smoking during depression.
JustB says
Dai, there’s a lot of well-documented evidence that weed exacerbates mental health disorders and that getting high regularly and frequently as a kid might even cause them. Your post was well-meant, of course, but if you want medication for depression, weed and booze are about the worst things you can take, as I understand it.
From the Royal College of Psychiatrists:
“Even though THC can produce relaxation, if higher amounts are consumed, it can have the opposite effect by increasing anxiety… Long-term use can have a depressant effect… Regular use of the drug has appeared to double the risk of developing a psychotic episode or long-term schizophrenia… a clear link between early cannabis use and later mental health problems in those with a genetic vulnerability… adolescents who used cannabis daily were five times more likely to develop depression and anxiety in later life.
…those who use cannabis particularly at a younger age, such as around the age of 15, have a higher than average risk of developing a psychotic illness, such as schizophrenia or bipolar disorder. These studies also show that the risk is dose-related. In other words, the more cannabis someone used, the more likely they were to develop a psychotic illness…
…The available research shows that those who have a family history of a psychotic illness, or those who have certain characteristics such as schizotypal personality, or possibly have certain types of genes, may increase the risk of developing a psychotic illness following the regular use of strong cannabis.”
Apologies for jumping on your post, and no offence intended, but one of my bonnet-dwelling bees is the tendency to think of weed as a benign drug. It isn’t.
dai says
I agree. People do use it though. Should never be used by teenagers in this context.
Tahir W says
I suppose though this is the moment to point out that a correlation is not the same thing as a cause.
JustB says
That’s true, but if it’s good enough for the RCOP it’s good enough for me to not want to chance it.
bricameron says
Actually I wasn’t, but seeing as how you thought I was I let it ride. I was thinking more along the lines of recognition and self help. Diet. Alcohol intake. Exercise. Empathy. Volunteering. There seems to be a lot of a reliance on a magic pill that will make it all go away. Or if not that then it’s “You don’t understand what it’s like”. There seems to be no winning with you invisible people.
chiz says
I don’t think you can ‘win’ with that line of reasoning, Bri. What seems like the obvious solution – change the things you have the power to change – doesn’t apply in this case. Eat better, drink less, exercise and meet people – it all looks pretty easy from the outside.
It’s tremendously frustrating if someone close to you is trapped in a prison and you think you’ve got a plan to get them out of there, but they just want you to sit in their cell with them. I find unconditional sympathy easier to offer to people I don’t particularly know or care about. The closer you are to them, the harder it is to resist trying to make things better, and often that’s the wrong thing to do because then the sufferer’s closest allies appear the least compassionate. I don’t know what the answer is.
JustB says
You seem to be a bit cross there Bri. What’s that about?
bricameron says
I’m depressed. I have the cognitive skills to recognize it. I engender sympathy and understanding but I can’t lift a finger to help myself because excuses.
JustB says
What are you on about? There isn’t a single depressed person on this thread who has suggested wallowing in it, or not doing anything about it.
Why do you assume people aren’t “lifting a finger” to help themselves?
bricameron says
Oh C’mon!
JustB says
I look forward to the cancer thread where you upbraid sufferers for running straight to the chemo and feeling sorry for themselves.
bricameron says
No need to get stroppy. Bob. I’m merely pointing out something I regularly see when these posts appear
JustB says
Not stroppy, Bri. Not at all. A bit nonplussed at how you’ve managed to read apparently an entirely different thread from the one I’m seeing, I guess. And not entirely sure what good you’re trying to do by saying what you’re saying.
SteveT says
I would like to think places like this help – never met you yet @niallb however I consider you a friend that I would try and help in times of trouble.
niallb says
Thanks @SteveT. Likewise.
JustB says
Not only can you not see it, but you might well BE seeing it without understanding what you’re seeing.
You might be seeing someone functioning apparently fine. Laughing and smiling, even. Because you don’t see what happens to that smile when you’ve left the room and that person’s alone again.
You might be seeing someone who isn’t obviously sad. That’s because depression is to sadness as an ostrich is to an iPhone: they’re not the same, or even similar. Sadness can be a symptom of depression, or rather sadness and depression can sometimes share symptoms, but they’re not related. For many of us, depression is an awful empty absent blankness, often (but not always) accompanied by actual physical pain. I’ve certainly had times of unbearable sadness during depressive episodes but to be honest, uncontrollable crying is generally the exception rather than the rule. I’m generally just… not there. I’m not in.
You might also be seeing someone who is experiencing half an hour of mild relief in a 24-hour period. Or trying to distract themselves from the pain by attempting a bit of normality. Or so sick of themselves that they really do try that “oh just snap out of it” thing that the lucky many who have no idea what depression is might suggest. Or so conditioned into putting a competent face on so as not to frighten or inconvenience others that appearing OK to others is something they wish they could stop doing, but can’t. Any and all of those things might be going on at once.
My last bout, the only person who saw even the tiniest hint of my inner reality was my then wife. Even so, she only picked up on it after I’d been suffering intensely, and purely internally, for weeks and months. Hell, it often takes time for ME to realise I’m ill: the slide downward can be so incremental that you’re like the lobster slowly boiling to death without noticing the water getting hotter.
Most non-sufferers have no idea. Lucky them. Fortunately the number of people who are prepared to condemn, doubt or pronounce pompously about what depression is or isn’t without having direct personal experience is getting smaller all the time. It’s easier than ever to get the help we need, and much of the time the best help is simply love and acceptance. It’s not easy to love and accept a mentally ill person: when I’m sick, I’m probably pretty hard to love (“just when you’re sick” – Ed). I’m stubborn and negative and so full of self-hatred that it might seem your love and your acceptance is being thrown back in your face. It’s not. It’s sinking in. It’s honestly helping. And I’m sorry.
Pills, therapy and love, though: those do the job for me.
It’s still such a fraught topic, but we are getting a little better at it (and I’m lucky enough to have been well for several months now. My longest streak in while).
Thanks for the thread, Niall.
niallb says
Eloquently put, Bob. My wife and I are both 2nd time around. I told her everything, the suicide attempt, everything, the first time we met. I now know that it was an unconscious kill or cure tactic. 21 years later, she’s still here. I am so lucky.
I agree, it is getting easier to talk about. There is more acceptance, more “understanding.”
I just wish I didn’t have it.
JustB says
On the last point: Christ yes.
Bargepole says
Your explanation above is spot on.
Dave Ross says
Yes Bob, you allude to what it’s like to live with someone bi-polar / depression and I can confirm it is horrific. Walking on eggshells, trying to second guess, support scorned, desperation and anger. All can be turned against you however hard you try. Offers of help rejected until you wonder if you’re going mad and your partner is the sane one. I took the cowards way and got out and it seems thankfully it has been the right thing to do for everyone.
What I’m trying to say is the ripple effect of depression is very, very wide. We are getting better at it, my son who has shown signs has been able to get help and seems to doing ok. It can be destructive for the sufferer and those close to them. The minefield of trying to get help for someone who denies it should be at the forefront of the battle against it. I genuinely fear for those
living in conditions I did for so many years.
Thanks Niall, Bob and everyone for keeping the conversation going, you are brave souls and if you encourage just one person to recognise something in themselves and going to get help the you are not just helping them but their nearest and dearest too.
niallb says
Thanks, Dave. Coming from you, that means a lot.
Tiggerlion says
I have an invisible condition called ApoE type 3 hyperlipdaemia. It is an autosomal recessive condition which causes the really bad cholesterol, triglycerides, to be astronomically high. I inherited the bad genes from both parents. It’s easily fixed with tablets and being more careful about what I eat.
Most people think that depression is as easily solved. The truth is, tablets help but are no cure and talking therapy is long and involved and not guaranteed to work.
I don’t know of any illness that is as little understood but so common and potentially so dangerous. Yet the sufferers are often derided as being to blame. The DWP are especially mendacious in the way they manage people suffering with depression, sanctioning them at the drop of a hat for being unable to attend assessments, interviews, etc.
I wish you well, niallb, and Bob, and any other sufferers. Do whatever you need to do to stay well and safe. I suspect most Afterword members with depression are experienced enough to have developed techniques and safety nets over the years. I just hope they keep working.
xxx
Moose the Mooche says
I’ve got familial hyperlipademia too. Shall we form a clique?
We could live on Statin Island.
….I’ll get me coat….
Uncle Wheaty says
I am in. Atorvastatin love in!
Black Type says
Me too. Let”s get this party statin!
chiz says
Oh hey me too. These depressive don’t know they’re born. Us hyperlipdaemia lot wake up every morning knowing we could switch off just like that but do you hear us moaning?
Moose the Mooche says
Mrs Moose f***in’ does, pal!
Tiggerlion says
Wha? I could switch off just like that???!!!
Gary says
Without saying goodbye? Bit rude.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=V1tmkAFb_Os
Carl says
I agree it can’t be seen. I’m not a sufferer from depression but had a friend who did.
The last conversation we ever had gave me no indication of the reality of how he was feeling. It was really positive, looking to the future. He seemed really happy and confident about how his life was changing and improving. Within 12 hours he’d killed himself.
So feel free to share with me (even by PM), with us collectively, if it helps – that’s to anyone who suffers from it – though I feel that may come over as rather a glib statement, even though it is meant sincerely.
I don’t feel confident that I can help, but I am confident that I can try to help.
dai says
I think the label should be more specific than just “depression”. There are different types. Are you bipolar Niall?
I have been diagnosed with dysthymia, a milder form, but chronic. Unable to take enjoyment from everyday life. I just thought it was a Welsh valleys thing! You just kind of live with it but certain life events like a marriage break up can then send you more easily into dangerous waters.
Cutting down severely on alcohol over about 5 years and eating better, exercising and losing weight have moved me into a better place. Sleep is the great factor with me. If I sleep well I can deal with the day in a much better fashion. Sometimes more easily said than done though.
Twang says
Lovely post Niall. I have little to say of much use other than to sent a digital fist bump and manly hug.
niallb says
Thank you, Twang. By the way, although I’ve been off the grid of late, I loved the Beckercast. So good to hear truly enthusiastic people. Thank you.
Tahir W says
OK, let me also put my hand up then. Been on SSRIs for about 16 years now. Manage the downswings fairly well, except for the sudden bursts of aggression, which take even me by surprise.
JustB says
I found that I had to try a couple of meds before I got to “my” one. Citalopram made me suicidal; one of the others (Fluoxetine? can’t remember) made me aggressive.
Then I started on Sertraline and it was like night and day. I was me again – it’s just that when the bottom approached, I glanced off it like there was a transparent shield over it. I could still SEE the bottom, I just wasn’t sinking into it any more. Thank god for Big Pharma, I say.
Tahir W says
Mmm …
slotbadger says
I was presribed Sertralin earlier this year, having been dead set against medications since a ghastly experience with Seroxat in my 20s. It has been amazing – it literally feels like I am myself again after a year or so of fairly consistent misery.
RubyBlue says
Another Sertraline user here. I’ve found it very useful but it really blands me out- I don’t get the intense anxiety but neiter do I feel particuarly happy about anything. Or feel anything much at all. Maybe it’s the price I have to pay, dunno.
Anyway, keep on buggering on Niall , and everyone else.
niallb says
Thanks @RubyBlue. I have shunned medication, having watched it destroy a close friend. I get therapy when I need it (like now) and that helps. I can function perfectly well, hold down a good job and be a good husband and valuable friend.
But, some days, I just die inside. I have nothing, I’m just an empty shell, a husk.
So I retreat inside myself, shut down.
Music helps enormously. I know I go on about Big Big Train but they have been as much of a help as my therapist. I was on a train into London this morning and this came on the iPod. I found myself staring intently out of the window, desperately trying not to cry. With joy. They are playing Cadogan Hall next weekend and I’m at 2 of the 3 gigs. I will be a blubbering wreck xx
RubyBlue says
Yeah I think medication is a tricky one- works wonders for some, horrendous side-effects for others , and some people just don’t want to go down that road.
Very glad music helps. I find daft pop crap helps me, especially if I get out of the house and stick my headphones on.
Enjoy the gigs! X
mrxsg says
Another Sertraline user here.
I didn’t really want to go back on medication but I had been struggling with anxiety and the blues for 9 months and I needed to do something.
I decided to just take half a tab a day. It isn’t a miracle cure but it has softened the edges so to speak. I just feel a bit more in charge.
If things get bad I can always up the dosage.
By the way; I really enjoy your writing Niall. Especially your tales from the past..
niallb says
Thanks. Last year’s viral pneumonia and now a bout of the black stuff have really stopped me writing but it’s great to get encouragement.
drneil says
I’m currently going through my latest episode. You certainly can’t see depression but in my case you could hear it. Last week I realised just how much I had been swearing recently. I’m about to move from Citalopram, which I find good for anxiety but less good for depression to Mirtazapine. If nothing else I should sleep better.
My saving grace is my lovely wife and having a sense of humour that is able to recognise that most of life is utterly ludicrous.
JustB says
That last bit does help a lot. I have a really bleak side to my sense of humour and am sometimes capable of laughing (bitterly, nastily, but still laughing) at my depression when it strikes.
All the best, DrN. Get well soon.
Kaisfatdad says
Thanks Niall and everyone else who has shared on this very moving thread.
I can just echo Mikethep. I have nothing to contribute but I have leant an awful lot and increased my understanding enormously.
pencilsqueezer says
I’ve dithered over posting.
I’ve struggled with depression since childhood. Tried medication. It doesn’t work for me, made me feel worse. My doctor offers nothing else so over the years I have come to accept that this is my default state.
Now I’m alone, without family or friends that default state has become increasingly difficult to manage. I sleep little, I eat poorly, I drink too much and I rarely leave the confines of my flat.
I don’t listen to music much anymore and pay little attention to TV or radio. I still read thankfully, that helps but mostly I paint. Compulsively, obsessively, endlessly. It keeps me here. It gives me my only purpose.
I’m plagued by thoughts of suicide most days. Only two lame attempts so far. Cowardice saved me. Cowardice and painting.
I wish I wasn’t this way.
I wish everyone else who feels cast adrift was not suffering.
I wish I could write with more coherence then I might, just might be able to write myself and everyone else to solid ground.
Stay safe.
JustB says
As for the last bit, Peter, same to you. You’re loved and appreciated and even when you don’t believe that, it’s true.
Uncle Wheaty says
Peter you are loved and valued here.
Moose the Mooche says
Amen!
bricameron says
Peter,have you considered getting a dog? They work wonders.
JustB says
They’re also pretty expensive to own if you don’t have a steady income, Bri.
pencilsqueezer says
I would love a dog or a cat but my landlord won’t allow it and as you alluded to Bob I simply couldn’t afford it even if it were possible.
Tahir W says
I’d say think again about medication. There are many different options. If your quality of life is at stake, it’s worth trying to find one that works for you.
bricameron says
Would you consider volunteering at your local RSPCA as a dog walker? It would get you out of the house and you’d be doing enormous good for your own well being as well as your communities.
bricameron says
Btw. Your paintings are amazing.
pencilsqueezer says
Thanks Bri. Most kind of you and sincerely appreciated.
I am actually out and about this morning on a paint re-up. It is of course raining.
bricameron says
😂
DogFacedBoy says
The thing about depression (& anxiety – the two go hand in hand for me) is that it is supremely isolating because of its basic internalisation of life.
I was out in that London this weekend and we did a busy museum exhibition, the tube, eating and drinking in pubs, shops n trains. At one point in my life this would have seemed impossible to imagine. Some of you who recall the epic Liverpool mingle and its Beatlesque tour the next day guided by the great Paddy Hoey will probably not have noticed but I was pretty much unable to eat, drink or communicate most of the day – so hard it was to keep myself from collapsing from the fear, panic and sadness that was coming at me in waves. In a room full of friends it can be lonely as hell.
However shortly after bidding my pals bon voyage on Saturday I found myself on a train about to depart from Paddington – wrecked with panic, throat tight, breathing shallow – willing myself to resist the urge to bolt for the door and the sweet fresh air. Knowing full well that if I did I would instantly feel better but curse myself as the train pulled away and would repeat the process again on the next homebound departure. Or the one after that. To stop myself I used the train app to find out the gap between stops and gave my brain escape routes if it all became too much. Even before the first stop and possible escape arrived I was over the worst and, if you’ll pardon the pun, home free.
Knowing that the anxiety and depression are just thoughts and feelings which will pass, CBT 101, are often no use with a brain that is irrational and afraid. Sometimes even having those closest to you doesn’t stop you want to jump in front of that train or call that ambulance when that panic attack is at its zenith. It’s not any stigma that stops you from reaching out it’s a burning hidden shame
A shame of every excuse made, every lied told, every friendship wrecked, of every opportunity missed, of time wasted, of moments not taken, of your lack of control and inability to cope, your defencelessness, weakness, destroying your self worth, dissolving your confidence, the shame that makes you scared and never seems to leave you.
At the moment, I feel trapped, isolated and envious of the subjects of The Undateables. I treasure every friend, savour everyone I meet but life still feels incredibly bleak and empty. The impression of a life forgotten and unmarked is so strong on my worst days.
The front I put up is sometimes to hide the depression but that makes it sound like I’m just pasting n a fake smile to plow on through which is not the case. The front is like an armour to give me confidence and see off any imagined peril. The downside being it acts like a wall and people often take that as disinterest, boredom or dislike. That wall is pretty hard for anyone to get over and many unsurprisingly don’t care to put in the effort.
Any suggestion that writing about this means that I am a passive pill popping emotional cripple incapable of bettering my situation is bullshit. I have worked damn hard to improve myself and my lot. I don’t do any drugs, smoke or drink – would I be more content if I did? – am I any better because I don’t? There is no easy fix, no one thing works for all people.
Advice is pretty much worthless but depression, anxiety and mental health is a vicious invisible killer of hundreds of thousands of people each year in the UK and that should be recognised.
bricameron says
You’re a brave man DFB. Keep on keeping on.
niallb says
I appreciate every word of that, Dave, and know how hard it must be to write. I wish I could have caught up with you and the Irish contingent on Saturday – I must have been leaving the exhibition as you were going in – but I’m glad you had a good day, even if the end was so tough.
DogFacedBoy says
Hard to write but it helps
Yeah woul have been good to meet up