I thought it may be time to mention some more recent events.
In January, 2008, I wrote a first person account of my life with depression for the National Post newspaper. It appeared in the paper on February 20. It was part of a series called Leaps and Rebounds. The title of my article was called " How I returned to a life worth living." I think it's a great title ( it was chosen by the National Post people ), it really sums up what I wrote. However, it is no longer available online.
I know that if I can write about my depression and have it published, I must be well.
My article was well received by the Canadian Mental Health Association. As a result, I was asked by Carol Tooton, Executive Director, CMHA in Nova Scotia , to participate in a workshop at the CMHA National Conference to be held in Dartmouth, Nova Scotia, on August 22-23, 2008. For more information check out http://www.novascotia.cmha.ca/
As well, I was interviewed by Melissa Churly for an article in the up coming summer issue of Anchor Magazine ( http://www.anchormag.ca/ ).
I also was in contact with Daniel Lukasik , a lawyer in Buffalo, New York, who has suffered with depression. He has started a website , http://www.lawyerswithdepression.com/, for which he has received positive recognition. The American Bar Association profiled the site and the work it accomplishes to identify depression in the legal community. The site was also honoured by the New York State Bar Association. The site is well presented in looking at depression and lawyers, and combats the stigma of depression.
So, depression is certainly out there. But so are people willing to publicly discuss it.
It's been over five years since my depression took hold almost taking away my life. But now, my life has taken a positive track, and it feels real good. But, it should be noted, as I have mentioned before, I wanted to get a life worth living. It was on my initiative that I contacted the National Post with a suggestion to write an article; I emailed the article to the CMHA; I found Dan's website and made the first contact. So, one has to make one's own opportunities. I used to do that years ago, and now, here I am doing it again and the events unfolding as a result are positive. But I had to have sufficent self confidence to reach out with my ideas and contact other people, in case the response wasn't so good. Getting to that level of confidence took years of work, by many people.
I am beginning to surface in public now.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Even the Youngest Ones Understood
My family provided the best of support. Once I was diagnosed with depression, we all learned in time what steps were necessary for me to get well. It took our wanting to understand what depression is and its impact on my life.
Even the youngest members of my family, my teen aged ( at the time ) niece and nephew came to understand the illness and how to help me. Two instances come to my mind when I think back over the last few years.
Once I started driving again, at times I used to drop off and pick up my nephew at his summer job. One night, his shift finished at midnight, I was there to get him. Even though I was staying at his house, a few days had gone by when we hadn't seen much of each other. As we drove, he asked " So, Keith, how are you doing?". He was truly concerned and wanted to know more then just a response of "good" from me. I told him I was starting to feel well, that a lot had happened in my life, but that I thought my life would get better, with the passage of time, my doctor's help, and especially with family support. I thanked him for his help. His response was simple but spoke volumes, " Well, that's what families do."
My niece gave me a New Yorker Magazine journal for Christmas in 2003. Now, she always has to make a comment that makes the moment. In the journal she wrote " To help keep your thoughts together on the road to sanity. I love you, and I am proud of you."
So, from the minds and hearts of my niece and nephew. They were concerned for me, for my health, and had come to understand depression.
My depression was in the open for all to see. But, the people who came to see it were those who wanted to see it.
Even the youngest members of my family, my teen aged ( at the time ) niece and nephew came to understand the illness and how to help me. Two instances come to my mind when I think back over the last few years.
Once I started driving again, at times I used to drop off and pick up my nephew at his summer job. One night, his shift finished at midnight, I was there to get him. Even though I was staying at his house, a few days had gone by when we hadn't seen much of each other. As we drove, he asked " So, Keith, how are you doing?". He was truly concerned and wanted to know more then just a response of "good" from me. I told him I was starting to feel well, that a lot had happened in my life, but that I thought my life would get better, with the passage of time, my doctor's help, and especially with family support. I thanked him for his help. His response was simple but spoke volumes, " Well, that's what families do."
My niece gave me a New Yorker Magazine journal for Christmas in 2003. Now, she always has to make a comment that makes the moment. In the journal she wrote " To help keep your thoughts together on the road to sanity. I love you, and I am proud of you."
So, from the minds and hearts of my niece and nephew. They were concerned for me, for my health, and had come to understand depression.
My depression was in the open for all to see. But, the people who came to see it were those who wanted to see it.
Sunday, May 4, 2008
The Details Count
I have been thinking back to the darkest days of my depression. The journal I kept helps me remember the events of those years. My first entry is on April 11, 2003.
The details of me life became most important. Now, some may say such details are just simple things. But to me, as to many people with depression, it is just those details that we have to grasp.
On April 11, I noted that the day before was my niece's birthday, and that I was able to go to Chapters to get her a card. That was an accomplishment. I also wrote " Laugh a bit now". So, I guess I must have laughed at something.
On April 13, 2003 ( a Sunday ), I wrote that on the previous Thursday and Friday, I got up at 9:30 am, which was the earliest since March. Now, I was always a morning person, getting to work around 8:30, and doing my best work from then to mid-afternoon. I always worked later, but I felt the best in the morning. It used to be exciting and fun to get into the office and get going.
April 14, I wrote that I "felt ok today in the pm". But I was "tired by 7 pm." I also noted that I "thought about checking my email." To even think about doing something was a great step forward. The thought came along, and then, if I kept thinking about it, perhaps in a week, I could actually put the thoughts into an action. But, for a long time, I was simply having the thoughts, not being able to do the action. However, it was a sign that I was getting healthy because I was starting to think.
April 23, I felt confidant for a moment.
April 24, I "chatted with clerk at The Body Shop. Went for drive , 1st time out in evening." Now, this was huge night.
I could watch tv a bit, I would watch Hazel Mae do the sports report each morning. I also got to enjoy watching Becker, a sitcom starring Ted Dansen. Also, Water Rats, an Australian cop show, became my afternoon staple. So, I was starting to enjoy tv again. Perhaps not Emmy worthy programs, but I liked them.
On April 25, I "felt safe." Now, that's a major comment. But I also suffered an anxiety attack, which I had started to handle because I had learned from my doctor that such attacks are not harmful. I knew I would live through it, and get a better grip on my circumstances.
So, the details became important. A flash in my mind of a good feeling sustained me until the next good moment, which could be the next hour or the following week. The good feelings were not very common. The bad out lasted, out weighed, and out did the good.
Small steps, but to me, all necessary and important steps if I was to get well. It took years, effort, and patience for me to get to the point in my life where the good has supplanted the bad.
The details accumulated to provide a real life.
The details of me life became most important. Now, some may say such details are just simple things. But to me, as to many people with depression, it is just those details that we have to grasp.
On April 11, I noted that the day before was my niece's birthday, and that I was able to go to Chapters to get her a card. That was an accomplishment. I also wrote " Laugh a bit now". So, I guess I must have laughed at something.
On April 13, 2003 ( a Sunday ), I wrote that on the previous Thursday and Friday, I got up at 9:30 am, which was the earliest since March. Now, I was always a morning person, getting to work around 8:30, and doing my best work from then to mid-afternoon. I always worked later, but I felt the best in the morning. It used to be exciting and fun to get into the office and get going.
April 14, I wrote that I "felt ok today in the pm". But I was "tired by 7 pm." I also noted that I "thought about checking my email." To even think about doing something was a great step forward. The thought came along, and then, if I kept thinking about it, perhaps in a week, I could actually put the thoughts into an action. But, for a long time, I was simply having the thoughts, not being able to do the action. However, it was a sign that I was getting healthy because I was starting to think.
April 23, I felt confidant for a moment.
April 24, I "chatted with clerk at The Body Shop. Went for drive , 1st time out in evening." Now, this was huge night.
I could watch tv a bit, I would watch Hazel Mae do the sports report each morning. I also got to enjoy watching Becker, a sitcom starring Ted Dansen. Also, Water Rats, an Australian cop show, became my afternoon staple. So, I was starting to enjoy tv again. Perhaps not Emmy worthy programs, but I liked them.
On April 25, I "felt safe." Now, that's a major comment. But I also suffered an anxiety attack, which I had started to handle because I had learned from my doctor that such attacks are not harmful. I knew I would live through it, and get a better grip on my circumstances.
So, the details became important. A flash in my mind of a good feeling sustained me until the next good moment, which could be the next hour or the following week. The good feelings were not very common. The bad out lasted, out weighed, and out did the good.
Small steps, but to me, all necessary and important steps if I was to get well. It took years, effort, and patience for me to get to the point in my life where the good has supplanted the bad.
The details accumulated to provide a real life.
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