This is my story. Perhaps it will resonate with someone, helping them to realize that they are not alone. Perhaps someone will be able to shed some light on my situation, giving me a fresh perspective and hope.
I am a 34 year old male who suffers from depression. I have been receiving treatment these last 4 years, although my depression goes back as far as I can remember. I suppose that the stigma of having a mental illness kept me from seeking treatment earlier in life. This "stigma" is still an issue for me, not because I judge other people; but because I judge myself.
I was in a relationship with a woman who
suffered from extreme anxiety and depression, she later became my wife. Her anxiety attacks were frequent and debilitating. Almost every night she would have a panic attack and ask me to take her to the hospital. We both knew that it would generally recede before we ever reached the emergency unit, however going through this process seamed to help. Maybe it was simply the thought that someone cared and was going to take care of her that alleviated the anxiety, or perhaps it was simply a matter of enough time passing. I spent several years encouraging her to seek help and eventually she did. There was a marked improvement as far as the panic attacks were concerned although her depression never really left.
Towards the end of our marriage, we have been separated for three years now,
my own depression seemed to increase. There were a number of factors that contributed to this; the suicide of a close friend, the terminal illness of a family member, my feeling that my wife and I were both withdrawing and drifting apart. I believe that what had helped to keep me focused and able to work and function was the notion that I needed to be strong for her sake. I know now that one cannot make someone happy, happiness is a personal journey, and something that needs to come from within. My own people pleasing behavior was never going to result in my own happiness either. It became apparent to me then that if I did not get some help that I would eventually kill myself. What price misery?
I am running out of characters so I had better come to some sort of point.
The last few years have been a dizzying merry go round of medication and therapy, so far nothing seems to stick. I am currently undergoing a protracted period of
extreme depression, over two months. In this period I have lost my apartment and my job, because I have not gone to work.
Losing all hope.
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