How I Fought My Way Out of Depression - A Messy Story That Might Give You Hope

Thousands of years ago as humanity we built villages, cities and started living together. Yet like many animal species we could have chosen to be lone wolves. But we chose to live together for logical reasons, primarily safety and getting our needs met. We are social and emotional beings.So we invented language so we could talk, understand and be understood.

At what point in history these ceased to serve their purpose or where we veered off course, I have no idea.

But one thing is for sure, we are lonely, so damn lonely.

Out there, boarding the bus, walking down the street or inside a government office, I know there are people everywhere feeling deeply lonely and helpless. For the sake of living together, sharing the same language and our thousands, millions of years of history as humanity, I decided to write down this experience, hoping it might give you hope too. Because whether ordinary or fascinating, stories exist to be told.

For the past month I have been extremely happy and at peace. And there is no other reason for it other than the fact that I am breathing. If someone had told me this before I would not have believed them.

Ever since I discoverd that peace and happiness can arise in a person soul for no reason at all, I have been utterly astonished. As I said if someone had told me a few months ago, You are going to be so happy, I really would have said, Yeah right, get outta here.

I figure if I could pull it off, anyone can. So here goes the recipe.

Just kidding. If only it were that simple. 😄

Fair warning. There are no miraculous healings in this story, no knight in shining armor coming to save the day, no divine ascension or anything like that.

This is a very ordinary story about a human being getting sick and tired of themselves and having the most obvious epiphany.

That is why I hope you will find pieces of yourself in it and draw some realistic inspiration.

I was never one of those cheerful, extroverted, highenergy types throughout my life anyway. I had a bit of a tendency, not gonna lie.

It ran in the family too. We were somewhat introverted, sensitive, easily hurt people. But I was managing somehow. Happy when good things happened, sad when bad things occurred, life moved along with general meh feelings.

But the depression I experienced this time was not a natural reaction from my body and mind to a bad event. Because there was no bad event in sight.

I had a decent job, a pretty good income, great friends, a partner and a healthy family. But I was struggling a bit.

My job, family, friends and everything else, which I now view as blessings, looked like terrifying responsibilities, almost like chains around my neck back when I was depressed.

Looking back, that is the first lesson I learned. Depression distorts reality with mind games. If you have learned to master your perspective, you have already cracked the game.

There is no clear date for when it started. But I will never forget that morning. I woke up and said, Holy shit, this is my life, I am actually living it.

My life had been very intense lately, though to be honest, I had not realized it. Work was intense, relationships were intense, I was constantly exhausted and could not even pause to ask myself, How am I feeling? The thought did not even cross my mind. I barely thought at all. That is how deeply I had suppressed everything.

I will never forget it. I woke up one morning after a heavy night. And reality hit me so hard. I am awake, I thought. I am still alive. You know that hazy moment right after waking up when you can not tell dreams from reality? I glanced around my room and felt like a convict serving a life sentence. There was no way out, I had to serve my time.

All of a sudden I had become my own worst enemy. The only thing left to do was physically beat myself up.

These miserable mornings, the ones making me go damn it, I am still alive, just kept rolling in one after another.

Seeing other people happiness and cheer started making me furious with myself. Why are not you smiling, you idiot? Look at how well everyone else is doing. You stupid fool, what are you even missing? Look at that guy, he lost a family member last week and he is still standing tall. And here you are, moping around with a long face. You have everything, yet you can not manage to be happy. You spoiled brat. Go rot. You are just weak, that is what you are, WEAK.

While I was inwardly despising myself and burning with the urge to strangle myself in a teacup, I can not say the people around me were very supportive either.

It was as if people acted like I owed them happiness.

Sure, we can all pull off fake smiles, like putting on our biggest, most genuine looking grin when going for a job interview. But I had started losing the ability to do even that. It just was not happening, man.

My friends first started getting bored, and then downright annoyed because I was subdued. The ones with the best intentions would say, If something is wrong, just tell us, but what was I supposed to say? I did not even understand what was wrong with me.

This phase of gloominess and misery was also starting to get on my partner nerves.

After all I owed them happiness and a smiling face too. And I had no right to ruin anyone mood with my feelings. With a heavy heart, I broke up with them. I did not have the energy left to maintain a relationship anyway. I had no strength to dress up, go out or flirt.

I distanced myself from my friends, broke up with my partner, my work performance was already in the gutter. Now, with crying spells, greasy hair and a pale face, I was officially depressed.

If there were a time machine and I could go back six months, I would immediately walk into the office bathroom, find the version of myself crying in secret and give them a huge hug. Man, were you lonely. Even I failed to see it, in fact, I had turned into my own arch enemy.

Honestly at that point, I would have just kept going without getting any help or taking action. Because I lacked any motivation to fix things. But I had another problem, anxiety.

In a short period the depression triggered my normally mild anxiety into overdrive.

I could live with the depression. But that anxiety feeling, like a truck was about to hit me at any second, tearing me into agonizing pieces, was unbearable. Panic attacks grew more frequent, my hands and feet were trembling, and feeling like I was on the verge of a breakdown every moment, I was literally dying.

I lost ten whole kilograms.

First I tried that positive thinking, self care nonsense that Hollywood stars talk about.

Eat your veggies, drink plenty of water, dress up, go for a walk.

Well, sure, those things work for you, mom. But I am dying.

I do not have the strength to lift a finger. A walk in nature is not gonna save me.

I mean, I was never actually considering suicide, but I did not think it would be so bad if a car hit me and I just died.

That was the moment I realized it was time to get professional help.

To be fair, I used to view things like depression as selfindulgence. And for some reason, I was against using things like antidepresants.

I found myself a magnificent psychiatrist. They freed me from that I am weak fallacy first, convincing me with scientific proof that the brain, just like any other organ, can sometimes malfunction, and that our mood is controlled by a few simple hormones.

Yes, my darlings. You are NOT weak, losers or spoiled. Seriously a few hormones glitching in the brain can completely shatter a person entire system.

And so we started medication therapy.

Unfortunately in real life there are no miraculous recoveries like in movies and TV shows. I started treatment, but for a whole month, nothing changed.

Only the anxiety driven panic attacks and crying spells frequency decreased.Other than that I was still the same, feeling like a zombie.

Sleep, sleep, more sleep. God, I can not even tell you how exhausted I was.

One month passed, two months, three months. Nothing. Meanwhile, my work performance was rock bottom. I was working in a job that required creativity, and my bread and butter, my mind, had failed me. If I got fired, could not pay rent, ended up on the streets, then I would see what real depression looked like.

My appointments with my doctor continued. I frequently complained about how slow the process was, as I had to be productive and did not have the luxury to wait for months.

We live in a brutal world, if you stop, you die. You have to produce, you have to work. Maybe it would have been better if I were not in a job requiring so much mental energy. But I was someone who made money by selling their creativity and thoughts.

The doctor kept saying, Patience, patience. Once this is over, in a few weeks we will start this other medication, it is lighter, bla bla.

That ship that never arrived, the shore that never came into view, that healing I could never reach. One night, I had the biggest nervous breakdown of my life.

I tore the house apart. I emptied the closets, trashed my room, threw my meds in the bin and even wrote an email to my boss along the lines of, I can not come to work because this engine just will not run anymore. Luckily he were an understanding person and said, Take a few days off, do whatever you need to do, then pull yourself together and come back, we will talk.

I had reached the point of having nothing left to lose. What was beyond dying anyway?

The next day, my doctor called, as if they had sensed it.

Turns out, that breakdown night was actually my brain finally shifting gears, saying, Oh, you wanna be happy? Here is your serotonin. Here is your energy. You crazy bastard.

After my breakdown passed, I first cleaned and tidied up my room. I rearranged the furniture and took a shower. I went out, treated myself to a nice meal saying, Is anything more important than me, damn it? and for the first time in months, I ate with a real appetite. I was going to leave the past in the past. I was angry, but I did not know at what.

My doctor wanted me to continue by lowering the dosage. I agreed. Now things like nature walks and healthy eating were actually supportive.

The cord had snapped. This is life, this is the hand I have been dealt, I told myself. We are living, there is nothing else to it.

I started messing around and laughing again from time to time. Most of all I was making fun of my depression and my madness. I did not care about anything anymore. What people thought of me, being weak or strong or even being happy.

Looking back, the second most obvious thing I noticed was this.

In today culture where turning your nose up at everything has become trendy, I could not remember the last time I heard a comment like, I am glad you exist, That meal you cooked was great, You are such a good friend or You did a fantastic job here.

People will not remind you of your self worth, folks. You have to remind yourself.

And a whole year has passed. Under medical supervision, I gradually reduced my medication and eventually stopped.

To fill any voids that might arise while quitting, I packed my routine with plenty of sports, healthy eating, fun music and funny TV shows.

The brain is a weird organ, but it is also easy to manipulate. You can do it.

Definitely get help, do not belittle yourself and do not forget that life revolves around trivial little things.

Slowly and then all at once. That is how it happens, my friends. Do not you dare lose hope. Trust me, it gets better.