PTSD Survivors Speak: Back From Depression

Tweet

The gift of this blog and the guest posters who are generous enough to share their stories is that I get to be inspired week after week by voices of people making the shift from powerless to powerful. Today’s guest post author struggled with debilitating depression. Since depression often accompanies PTSD I asked him to share his recovery story with us. I think you’ll find it inspirational that one person can turn his life around in such a way — which means we all have the potential to do that.

My life ‘hit the wall’ in 2003. I had unknowingly lived with depression for years. I didn’t recognize the symptoms as a mental illness, I just thought I had a horrible life. The smooth invasion of that dark fog of depression began when my father died in 1992 at the young age of 59.

I was diagnosed with depression on March 7, 2003. I was suspended by the Nova Scotia Barristers’ Society on March 11, 2003. I had a mental breakdown on March 11-12, 2003. I had lost both my health and career in the span of five days. Not my best week.

I would spend the next three months confined to bed.  I would be confined to the house for the next two years, except for a few select reasons to venture out.

Now, I sit here as mentally healthy as I was when I was 25. How did I get to this point, where the world is once again an enjoyable place? Well, I have had many years to consider how I re-gained my good and strong health. These are some of the reasons for why and how I am still here:

My first thought is always of my family– my mother, sister, brother-in-law, niece and nephew. Without their support, I am not sure what my path would have been. They sat at my bedside for weeks, taking turns. They came to learn about depression and what they could do to help. My niece gave up her bedroom for six months so we could all be in the one house. They provided such comfort and understanding that I felt well protected.

Now, this may seem a strange source of assistance, but the Bar Society was helpful. Though they suspended me, they all recognized the devastating impact depression had on my life and that it was the reason for my wrong and improper decision making. The Bar Society Chairman told me to go home and get well. The Bar Society also provided me with a list of four psychologists, for whom they would cover the cost of the first few visits.

Now, going to therapy was certainly an interesting experience. I attended therapy once a week for two years, then once a month for about a year. Once I started, the floodgates opened and out flowed my life. Therapy was the highlight of my week for awhile.

I took medication for three years. I was quite fortunate in that it worked.  It simply shut my mind down.  I didn’t awake in the morning thinking of a hundred files to see to, clients to call, staff problems at the firm. With my doctor’s guidance, I slowly weaned off and I am happy to say I have not needed it since.

A few friends came forth who  not only offered to help, they actually took active steps to do so. They took me to lunch,  for a drive around the city, or to a movie. These may seem like trivial things, but in the context of being confined , just to get out of the house was a huge accomplishment. Also, knowing that people still cared provided great comfort. However, I now know that some friends were not there. I learned that hard lesson for sure. I came to make the difficult but healthy decision that those people are not true friends and I dismissed them from my life.

But also be wary of false comforts. I had some people offer to help, then disappear for years. I even had a former girlfriend, a health care professional, step back into my life, only to use me for my money (I still had some back then!), and the use of my vehicles, then move on from me by way of a “Dear Keith, I’m gone”  late night phone call, setting back my recovery by a year.

All of the above are all needed in any recovery. But I also wanted to get well. Even in the midst of the darkest days of depression, I still had this desire or even a need to get well. I realized that as I had a mental illness, not just a horrible life. If I worked and tried, I may have a second chance at a real life.

I set reasonable, and thus usually achievable, goals such as going to a local bookstore and enjoying it.

I was patient, I wasn’t in a rush to get well.  It had taken years to get as ill as I was, it would take years to get healthy. I accepted that I had a mental illness, so I took the steps I thought I should and hoped they worked.

I have used my 18 years as a lawyer and my knowledge of mental illness to seek a voice, to write and speak about my depression and its impact on my life. This advocacy work has been enjoyable, even fun, a word I have not felt or used in many years. As well, I have been told it’s been of assistance to others.

I have come to appreciate every aspect of my life, whether it is walking down the street, enjoying good food, or time with family.

Life is wonderful, once again. I thank Michele Rosenthal for inviting me to post this article.

You can read about Keith here. Keith invites readers to contact him at kna1960@eastlink.ca

The ideas contained in this post solely represent the perspective of the author. To contribute to ‘Survivors Speak’ contact Michele.

Tags: depression, healing, mental illness, ptsd, symptoms, therapy