Thoughts on Depression

I’ve never really been one to struggle with controlling my temper/anger, or rather letting it get to me so deeply that it goes to a violent end. I’m not a violent guy, nor do I particularly enjoy confrontation. But one thing I’ve never been able to control is the inexplicable sadness that accompanies depression.

Times when I’ve felt anger build up inside me I have released it through primal means like yelling in frustration or punching inanimate objects really, really hard. The old Pantera lyric comes to mind “The releasing of anger can better any medicine under the sun”. But there has been no releasing of sadness to best any medicine. In fact, there has been no medicine that I’ve found to defeat depression. There is yelling, but its more internal, occurring inside my head unable to escape its prison. There is a physical pain in my chest to the point that I want to rip open my ribcage just to let it breathe. There are no violent outbursts on inanimate objects, instead thoughts turn to hurting myself. Its interesting that I would never raise a hand to harm someone I care about, but I have frequent thoughts about a raising a hand against myself. I have, however, found ways to lash out in self-hatred against myself in many unseen ways through the years. I will say this, sometimes words are SPOKEN in extreme anger that you WISH you could take back. Worse though are that sometimes things are DONE in extreme sadness that you CAN’T take back. I’m of course speaking of suicide. To anyone thinking about this, as much as it hurts, and as much as you believe that people don’t care, and as badly as you want to have that sudden flash of violence end it all...... give it one more hour… a dinner… a day. Buy a pet that needs you. Find something that makes you feel. Delay the heat of the moment somehow. And I know just how hard it is to ignore this kind of pain! I’ve taken walks and drives with my sidearm where I questioned my intention of returning. For me, the moment of pause is my kids. I always imagine them saying at some future point “I really wish dad was still here to see this. He would’ve loved it.” It gets me through the moment, as long as that is. I try to frequently remind myself “Don’t put your trust in the people who SAY they care, SAY they will be there, or SAY they will listen. Trust the people that SHOW they care, SHOW they are there for you, and SHOW they will listen.” But what if there isn’t anyone who SHOWS they care? I dunno man, that’s the lonely part of depression that I’ve struggled with at various points. Even when there may be people who truly care and want to help, its so hard to see it through the black fog of depression. That’s where outside people really need to step up. Don’t wait for your depressed friend to check in with you. Check in on them, frequently, especially if you know they have had a rock bottom moment! Sometimes all that person needs is simple human interaction. But man, just don’t ignore them when they text, call, email, or stop by to “say hi!” We’ve heard stories/urban legends about a smile stopping a suicide plan because someone took the time. You don’t have to initiate a counseling session to check in on a friend! A person I’ve recently been talking with in an online chat mentioned that he opened up about his struggles to some friends the night he was contemplating suicide a few weeks ago, kind of a cry for help if you will. Some of them talked with him but were aloof, others played it off as either seeking attention or not serious enough to be worth their time. Some didn’t even reply to his messages. Not one of them however checked in on him in the following days to see how he was doing since his bout with suicidal contemplation. I’ve been thinking about his experiences with this a lot lately and it has weighed heavily on me today for some reason. What if he had killed himself that night? What would they have said then? Would they have claimed there were no warning signs? Would they say I never knew he was struggling? I don’t know and it doesn’t really matter I guess. What matters is that he found it in himself to give it that “one more day.”