I want to thank Melissa Churly for writing about me which became the cover story. The piece was well written and well researched. I think Melissa came to understand depression and its impact on people. She knew her topic.
I also thank Bill MacPhee and the staff at Anchor for putting me on the cover. It's a great magazine, well needed so people, those with and those without depression, will learn about the illness.
Check it out at www.anchormag.ca
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Monday, June 2, 2008
CMHA National Conference
As I mentioned previously, the Canadian Mental Health Association National Conference is being held in Dartmouth, Nova Scotia on August 22-23, 2008.
The title of this year's Conference is Making Waves for Change: From Surviving to Thriving.
I will be presenting a workshop along with Fred Armitage. We are scheduled for the afternoon of Saturday, August 23, 2008, from 3:20 to 4:50. I know Mr. Armitage is a Halifax Regional Municipality police officer who has had depression.
The CMHA has posted more details on its website ( http://www.novascotia.cmha.ca/ ).
The title of this year's Conference is Making Waves for Change: From Surviving to Thriving.
I will be presenting a workshop along with Fred Armitage. We are scheduled for the afternoon of Saturday, August 23, 2008, from 3:20 to 4:50. I know Mr. Armitage is a Halifax Regional Municipality police officer who has had depression.
The CMHA has posted more details on its website ( http://www.novascotia.cmha.ca/ ).
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Current Events
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.
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.
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.
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Geography
I think it may be important to explain how geography played a role during my depression, my breakdown, and then my recovery.
I lived and practiced law in Sydney, Nova Scotia. Now, when it came time for the hearings before the Nova Scotia Barristers' Society, they were held in the Society's offices in Halifax, which is a 4-5 hour drive from Sydney.
In March, I travelled to Halifax for the hearing. I was unable to drive, my mind beginning to unravel, so, my mother drove the entire trip.
My sister, her husband, and their two children live outside of Halifax, so, we arrived there on a Sunday, the hearing was set for Tuesday morning. I do know that we all checked into the Radisson Hotel at some point, just not sure exactly when. It is located just across the street from the Bar Society's offices. I also booked a room there for my lawyer. He and I met on that Monday to prepare.
The hearing on Tuesday was difficult to make, I had a major anxiety attack early that morning. At that time I didn't know what an anxiety attack was, I had had them before, but I just didn't know what happened with such an attack. My mother and sister who stayed in the suite with me, calmed me down. Then I met my lawyer in the lobby, and off we went for the 11:00 am hearing.
The hearing, held in public though no public attended, consisted of my testifying about my wrong decisions and some of my life. It lasted until after 5:00 pm. I was suspended for 3 months.
Now, my mother and sister waited at the Radisson Hotel all day, worrying and wondering. My brother-in-law spent the day driving around, waiting for my sister to call him with the outcome.
When I walked to the hotel, my mother and sister were in the lobby. Given my suspension, I was in shock. I told them what happened,we hugged and then went to the room. My sister called her husband to join us. He was there in minutes. Now, we had no arrangement made as to what to do. So, we just looked at the situation and I decided that I wanted to check out and go to my sister's, I wanted to see my niece and nephew. Though only 17 and 16 at the time, they were fully aware of the events unfolding.
We packed up and checked out. However, I did leave one thing behind. As a lawyer and thus needing to dress for work, I had maybe 100 ties, some allocated for certain events. I had one tie that I always wore to funerals, that was the tie I chose to wear to the hearing. I tossed it in the hotel trash as we left.
It was at my sister's that my breakdown took hold. My niece was kind and generous enough to give up her bedroom for me, for two years. Her room was a good size, and centrally located. She moved to the lower level.
The doctors I was fortunate to have treat me were located in Halifax. I felt save at my sister's, with everyone there. We all thought I needed everyone's help, and it helped each of us to be together.
But, in order to see to my house in Sydney and other matters, I travelled , usually as the passenger, between Halifax and Sydney, for those years. Those trips were sometimes difficult. I was groggy from my drugs, and unable to drive until the last part of the trip. As well, it was a real effort to leave the perceived safety of the bedroom.
But the travelling also provided me with the chance to get out of the bedroom, which though troubling in the short term, I think I benefited in the longer term. We would stop to eat on the trip, getting me out. As well, we usually picked up groceries . Again, I would go into the store. Now, I know, it may sound like simple things, eating in a restaraunt and getting groceries, but to me, living with depression, they were not. It took great effort to to do these things, but, with each trip, I learned I could. We found a great little spot in New Glasgow that served real food. So, the more often we ate there, the more comfortable I became. Small steps, but huge accomplishments.
My life those years consisted of weekly visits to my doctor; regular trips home; crashing, literally, at my sister's; trying to get out of the bedroom, then the house. These were trying times.
But I also had some hope, though smothered under the darkness of depression. At that time, my hope consisted of just my wanting to get well. How, when, and if I could were matters for another day. I knew the path to getting well would not be simple.
I lived and practiced law in Sydney, Nova Scotia. Now, when it came time for the hearings before the Nova Scotia Barristers' Society, they were held in the Society's offices in Halifax, which is a 4-5 hour drive from Sydney.
In March, I travelled to Halifax for the hearing. I was unable to drive, my mind beginning to unravel, so, my mother drove the entire trip.
My sister, her husband, and their two children live outside of Halifax, so, we arrived there on a Sunday, the hearing was set for Tuesday morning. I do know that we all checked into the Radisson Hotel at some point, just not sure exactly when. It is located just across the street from the Bar Society's offices. I also booked a room there for my lawyer. He and I met on that Monday to prepare.
The hearing on Tuesday was difficult to make, I had a major anxiety attack early that morning. At that time I didn't know what an anxiety attack was, I had had them before, but I just didn't know what happened with such an attack. My mother and sister who stayed in the suite with me, calmed me down. Then I met my lawyer in the lobby, and off we went for the 11:00 am hearing.
The hearing, held in public though no public attended, consisted of my testifying about my wrong decisions and some of my life. It lasted until after 5:00 pm. I was suspended for 3 months.
Now, my mother and sister waited at the Radisson Hotel all day, worrying and wondering. My brother-in-law spent the day driving around, waiting for my sister to call him with the outcome.
When I walked to the hotel, my mother and sister were in the lobby. Given my suspension, I was in shock. I told them what happened,we hugged and then went to the room. My sister called her husband to join us. He was there in minutes. Now, we had no arrangement made as to what to do. So, we just looked at the situation and I decided that I wanted to check out and go to my sister's, I wanted to see my niece and nephew. Though only 17 and 16 at the time, they were fully aware of the events unfolding.
We packed up and checked out. However, I did leave one thing behind. As a lawyer and thus needing to dress for work, I had maybe 100 ties, some allocated for certain events. I had one tie that I always wore to funerals, that was the tie I chose to wear to the hearing. I tossed it in the hotel trash as we left.
It was at my sister's that my breakdown took hold. My niece was kind and generous enough to give up her bedroom for me, for two years. Her room was a good size, and centrally located. She moved to the lower level.
The doctors I was fortunate to have treat me were located in Halifax. I felt save at my sister's, with everyone there. We all thought I needed everyone's help, and it helped each of us to be together.
But, in order to see to my house in Sydney and other matters, I travelled , usually as the passenger, between Halifax and Sydney, for those years. Those trips were sometimes difficult. I was groggy from my drugs, and unable to drive until the last part of the trip. As well, it was a real effort to leave the perceived safety of the bedroom.
But the travelling also provided me with the chance to get out of the bedroom, which though troubling in the short term, I think I benefited in the longer term. We would stop to eat on the trip, getting me out. As well, we usually picked up groceries . Again, I would go into the store. Now, I know, it may sound like simple things, eating in a restaraunt and getting groceries, but to me, living with depression, they were not. It took great effort to to do these things, but, with each trip, I learned I could. We found a great little spot in New Glasgow that served real food. So, the more often we ate there, the more comfortable I became. Small steps, but huge accomplishments.
My life those years consisted of weekly visits to my doctor; regular trips home; crashing, literally, at my sister's; trying to get out of the bedroom, then the house. These were trying times.
But I also had some hope, though smothered under the darkness of depression. At that time, my hope consisted of just my wanting to get well. How, when, and if I could were matters for another day. I knew the path to getting well would not be simple.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
The Blog's Title
The title of my blog was easy to choose.
The "Kickin' Depression" is derived from an expression my sister uses. In discussing certain events and people, she often says "kick them to the curb". She means simply put that event / person out of your thoughts, out of your life, and move forward. Needless to say, she has told that to me many times these last few years. I have tried, and succeeded, to dismiss the not so nice events that occurred and to focus on the many good aspects of my life. As mentioned, I have also moved forward to the point where I can dismiss those people I think weren't there to help.
But I also wanted the title to reflect where I am now in my life. So, I considered a few ideas, but kept looking at the title that the National Post chose for my article. They decided on the title " How I returned to a life worth living." It just fit. I think I have returned to a real life, and it continues to improve. So, I thank Maryam Siddiqi, Deputy Editor, Arts & Life, National Post, for printing my story and for the title.
Thus, the title "My Return: Kickin' Depression"
The "Kickin' Depression" is derived from an expression my sister uses. In discussing certain events and people, she often says "kick them to the curb". She means simply put that event / person out of your thoughts, out of your life, and move forward. Needless to say, she has told that to me many times these last few years. I have tried, and succeeded, to dismiss the not so nice events that occurred and to focus on the many good aspects of my life. As mentioned, I have also moved forward to the point where I can dismiss those people I think weren't there to help.
But I also wanted the title to reflect where I am now in my life. So, I considered a few ideas, but kept looking at the title that the National Post chose for my article. They decided on the title " How I returned to a life worth living." It just fit. I think I have returned to a real life, and it continues to improve. So, I thank Maryam Siddiqi, Deputy Editor, Arts & Life, National Post, for printing my story and for the title.
Thus, the title "My Return: Kickin' Depression"
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