Image credit: Dayne Topkin

 

**MHMs are shorter posts designed to be a quicker read than my usual posts. Today’s MHM tackles something we don’t talk about enough: Hope.**

I wasn’t officially diagnosed with major depressive disorder until I was 47 years old.

That was partly my fault, because I did not seek psychiatric help until I was 33, although I’d been in therapy for several years. I’d been very depressed most of my life; I don’t really know why I waited so long to try psych meds.

Unfortunately, as I’ve written before, my first psychiatrist diagnosed me as having bipolar disorder, type II. Subsequent psychiatrists took her word for it for 14 years and continued to treat me with medications that were designed to help with bipolar disorder, not with MDD (major depressive disorder).

Because my treatment was focused on bipolar disorder, I made no progress during that time, especially regarding the meds. I just got worse and worse.

But once I was finally diagnosed with MDD, my treatment took a happy turn. Now I can say I’m actually happy some days, and the rest of the time, I feel pretty okay. It’s rare that I feel angry, anxious, or frustrated enough to lose my cool. 😊

The hard truth is that you are your own best advocate, especially in matters of your physical and mental health. You know you better than anyone else does, right?

IT’S BEEN A LONG ROAD TO RECOVERY

I felt hopeless, helpless, and desperate for far too long. It truly is a wonder that I’m still alive.

I’ve been through a ton of therapists, over a dozen psychiatrists, countless social and county workers, case managers, and anyone else who I thought might be able to help.

I’ve been hospitalized more than a dozen times for my depression, usually with suicidal ideation. Group therapy, individual therapy, intensive outpatient groups, ECT, TMS, DBT, CBT, virtual therapy, therapy over the phone – I’ve done it all.

It has been a very long and frustrating road.

Not everyone I worked with was right for me, but I learned something from each of them. Well, except maybe Dr. Whatshisname in Minnesota. He was nothing but a quack with a serious God complex. (Can you tell I still have a little resentment? LOL)

For more than thirty years, I thought I was completely hopeless.

I’m not kidding – I was convinced I would die drunk, depressed, and alone in a dark basement apartment and no one would notice I was dead until the stench got so bad a neighbor would have to call the police for a welfare check.

I have “treatment-resistant” major depressive disorder, and that’s a bitch. I used to spend my days and nights crying my eyes out, trying to formulate a way to just *disappear* without hurting anyone. But I think that’s impossible, because we all have someone who cares about us.

Someone cares about YOU.

I care about you.

All of those professionals I worked with, male and female, from private and public institutions, whose services were either costly, on a sliding fee scale, or free – they all tried to help me. And I wanted that help. But therapy and meds just weren’t enough.

Finally, when my ex discovered TMS (transcranial magnetic stimulation) and I took a DBT (Dialectical Behavior Therapy) class, my life changed. That was in 2015.

THERE IS HOPE

Two years later, I started this website. At the time, the tagline was “Fighting the Stigma of Mental Illness and Addiction.” I still felt like these illnesses ruled my life, even though I wasn’t feeling as depressed as usual, and I was able to stay sober for long periods.

But since I started feeling better and better and believing that I was no longer doomed to die alone and depressed, I changed the tagline to “On Surviving Depression.” This more accurately reflects where I’ve been for the last year or so, and it implies that surviving – even thriving – is possible, despite your diagnosis/diagnoses.

For thirty-plus years, I was distraught. Now, I am hopeful. I actually have goals! Do you know what that’s like for someone who never even saw a future? Now I have things to do, people to see, places to go, and things to look forward to! 😊

All I’m trying to say is, I’m glad I didn’t give up.

Throughout my severely depressed life, I must have held onto a modicum of Hope, even though it didn’t feel like I had any. All those times I thought I wouldn’t make it, all the days I couldn’t go to school or work because I was too depressed – I DID make it.

The fact is, I’ve made it through 100% of my worst days.

And so have you.

You never know when a new treatment will be introduced to you. You never know which anti-depressant is going to be the one (or two or three) that works. You don’t know if your current psychiatrist or therapist is going to change your life or if it’s the next one you try.

Don’t give up before the miracle happens.

If you are suffering from depression, anxiety, or any other mental health issue, do yourself a favor and look into getting some medical help. Don’t wait two decades like I did. Suffering in silence sucks the big one, and there is no grace in being a martyr.

As my first boss taught me, “Pain is inevitable; suffering is optional.”

There is no need to suffer endlessly. Find a professional to talk to, find a psychiatrist to help figure out how to balance the neurotransmitters in your brain, try Chinese medicine, start a new daily routine, talk to a spiritual guide, do everything you can.

Happiness and relief are within your grasp.