For obvious reasons, suicide led by depression isn’t exactly a dinner conversation piece. Recently, though, it has been mentioned by a handful of close friends, and as someone who has hit rock bottom, faced countless other major depressive episodes, and yet still stands strong, I want and need to stand up for those who have lost the battle.
I think there are too many people who fail to fully understand depression. Those who take their lives aren’t taking the easy way out. They couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel, and that’s not their fault. They weren’t weak. They weren’t quitters. They were tired.
I know this because I am often mentally exhausted. I battle major clinical depression, anxiety, panic disorder, ADHD and bipolar disorder every single day of my life. There have been (and still are) months, days and minutes in which my mental illnesses weigh so heavily on me that I am briefly literally too tired to fight. However, I have learned there is always a light; in my case, that light comes in the forms of my two baby sisters Amelia and Laurel. When someone hits rock bottom, it’s very difficult for anyone on the outside to understand, because half of the time, even the person in the battle doesn’t know why. People fighting mental illnesses can’t control their conditions; if we could, we would.
Depression is a disease that the outside world can’t see. We can’t control that a small mistake throws us into a downward spiral. To be able to escape our mind’s delusions that everything is falling apart, when in reality it’s not, is the hardest task to overcome.
OCD, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, took control of my life when I was in the fifth grade. One minute, I was happy, carefree little girl learning her multiplication tables and jumping in excitement when Momma presented a new book, to my mind insisting that I perform ludicrous rituals before I could move on to my next thought or action. Psychologically, it was scarring. I wouldn’t wish those times on my worst enemies. There are many things I have mentally blocked. Mom will bring up memories from my childhood, and she doesn’t understand that I don’t remember. To be frank, I hadn’t realized I blocked out so much until about a year ago, when Mom referenced something to my childhood.
I know that outside of the depression, anxiety and OCD, I had a great childhood. But the intrusive thoughts that just wouldn’t go away stole much of my childhood. At one time, I wanted to become a scientist only to find the cure for OCD. Later, I learned that while science intrigues me, writing is really my forte.
During my high school years, I outgrew my OCD. Not completely, of course, but I became busy with boys, my first job and watching my baby sisters enter the world. There was always a light I had to check 10 times before departing for school, and a certain order for books, but the intrusive thoughts disappeared for most part.
It wasn’t until my second year of college that anxiety and depression struck hard. I’ll spare you the details of why, but I placed my love and trust into the wrong hands. The situation took a toll on me; I withdrew from school, temporarily relocated, moved back home, enrolled back into college, etc. Essentially, I hit rock bottom. I wouldn’t wish the feelings I experienced on my worst enemy. It was terribly scary, and I may not be where I am today without Southern Highlands and Dr. Staci Kraft, who listened and gave me hope.
Looking back, nothing traumatic happened to trigger the depression. But in my mind, there wasn’t any hope, light, or happiness… which was traumatic to me. Scary is an understatement. My mother, who wanted nothing more than for me to graduate college, could hear the depression in my voice when I spoke. She urged me to turn a different leaf in life — at least until I found myself again.
Countless panic attacks, suicidal thoughts and tears later, I found myself once again. The last 2 1/2 years haven’t been easy. However, I am finally graduating, living on my own, etc. I overcame a personal major depression, and continue to fight small ones every single day.
It’s beyond exasperating to have a mind that’s capable of so much, yet a part is always looking into a dark, endless tunnel. The most frightening realization, but important epiphany, I have had is understanding the disorder will always be a part of me and those who have it. There will likely always be a heavy weight on our shoulders, and we must fight it.
I truly believe each of us has a purpose in this life; some find theirs, others don’t. I have learned that I am alive to do more than battle depression and anxiety. It’s an unbelievably hard fight to win over and over again.
It’s important to know that those who don’t see the light aren’t taking the easy way out. Depression is an illness that exhausts all who face it. They’re not selfish, but tired of fighting a seemingly never-ending battle. So please, before you condemn those who have taken their lives, know they weren’t selfish quitters.
Always give everyone the benefit of doubt, as we don’t know their stories unless we have lived inside them.
