Life is Over Rated

Life is over rated. I made that comment one early morning as I traveled with some friends to Cape Smokey to learn how to ski. Over the years that comment became a joke, a phrase we brought out when one of us was having a bad day. But ten or so years later, that was how I actually looked at my life, there wasn't much promising about it.


I was diagnosed with severe depression in March of 2003, followed a few days later by an almost complete mental breakdown. . I had unknowingly lived with it for years. I was 42 years old. I had practiced law since 1984, except for a one year gap when I returned to university. My main areas of practice were real estate and wills and probate matters.


Looking at my life from the outside, it appeared very full and exciting. I had the career, as senior and managing partner in a successful law firm; the vehicles, a four wheel drive and an MG for the summer; money in my pocket; for awhile, a younger, attractive girl friend. But to me, I had nothing.


With my mind now clear, I can see how the illness moved into my life. At the time, however, I saw just a series of bad moments, bad days, bad things happening to me. I knew I was in pain, but that's all I knew. I had no way out. So, why did I miss the signs that I had a mental illness and what were those signs.


The "why" is now easy. In my twenties, I did well, in university and then at work. I enjoyed taking on any challenge. I was strong minded, hard working, and optimistic about life.


So, when in my thirties, life brought more challenges, I just thought I could, in time, overcome them. Asking for help was not in my options, I could do it alone, I always had. But there was a difference in that these new challenges were personal to me. I had always dealt with the problems of others, but I came to learn that dealing with my own was another matter, of which I knew little.

My personal difficulties began with a failed business venture, spearheaded by a partner, in 1990. However, the law firm we established in 1989 became successful. It took many long days and nights, over many years, but the financial rewards were realized.


But the most traumatic event that put me on the path to having depression, from what my doctor, Dr. DEB, and I determined, was the death of my father in February of 1992.


I was close to my father. We spoke everyday and saw each other most days. Our respective jobs brought us into contact as well. He was a real estate agent, I practiced real estate law.


Growing up, and still to this day, my family was and is close knit. We always had dinner together when I was young. We would talk about the day's events. Holidays were a special time, whether it was around Nova Scotia, a trip south, or seeing a baseball game in Montreal. These times were important. As well, we all had a love of politics, which during the Trudeau years, made for exciting times.


The actual signs of depression are now easy to see. I think I could identify problems, but I made no link to an illness. I knew thing's weren't going well for me, but I dismissed it as just a bad day. I just didn't understand that after 100's of bad days , that it was more.


Well, perhaps one of the first signs of my developing depression was that I started withdrawing from my friends. I had always enjoyed my alone time, but I also had many friends. Some friends were important and close to me, others were, as I call them, 9-5 friends.


Some of my best friends live overseas. We attended university together in 1986-87, all being foreign students, so having that in common brought us together. We kept in touch, on the telephone, letters ( in the days before email ), and spending holidays together. Then gradually, I stopped communicating with them. So, that, within a few years, these relationships were no more.


As well, one university classmate from undergrad, who lived just a few hours away was cut out. We were pretty tight in the good years of my life. I enjoyed our times together because we didn't always talk shop, we had common interests beyond work. But slowly, this went away too.

Lunch time became a solo time. Given how hard I worked and the long hours, I made a point of going for lunch. It was a much needed break in a usually hectic day, a time to breathe and chat with friends. But gradually, I stopped going out to eat with people. When asked out, I had an excuse. Then eventually, the invitations stopped, as to be expected.


I would eat alone in my vehicle. I would get a plain bagel and a bottle of water, and eat it as I drove around. When I didn't have the energy to drive, I would eat in a parking lot, hidden among the other vehicles, hoping that no one would see me and want to talk. I couldn't be part of the world for that half hour. I could eat alone and think that I could disappear for a brief moment. It became my means to hide during the day, week after week.


Another means of avoiding people was to shop for groceries on Monday evenings when, hopefully, the store would be quiet. I can now say I avoided people because with a clear mind, I can recognize that behaviour.


As well, I can look back and shake my head, I had such a twisted way of thinking with regard to certain things. A prime example was the insomnia that set in and the reasons I had for not sleeping.



What a horrible sleeping routine I had for years. On Sunday night/ Monday morning, I would be awake until 5-6 in the morning, then sleep until 7:30, then get up and go to work. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday nights/ mornings were the same. The exhaustion was overwhelming , but I still would not sleep. By Thursday and then Friday, the lack of sleep would finally get to me and I would crash. I would get some rest on the weekend. But then, along comes Sunday, the routine repeats. This occurred on a regular basis for weeks, going into months and years. I would get a normal week's sleep once in awhile.

So, why would I not sleep. At the time, I certainly wasn't happy. I had a poor outlook on my life, nothing was going well. I looked forward to very little. I hated to face the next day, the work, the people, the demands, the pressures. I had no fun at work or after work. Now, this is where depression set in to mess up my thinking, there is no logic involved. By staying awake late into the night/ morning, I thought it would put off the next day's beginning. If I slept, the next day would come quicker. So, I stayed awake, hoping for tomorrow not to come.


Tears became a regular event. They would flow from when I left my house to when I drove into the office parking lot. I would walk into the office and pretend to be in a good mood. Pretending is exhausting. Then after a long day of work, more tears while driving to my house, well into the night. This went on for weeks and months.


Since I was a child, I loved to read. Even during my university days, I still read books not related to my studies. As I studied law, I would read books on evolution, physics, or politics. Book shops were one of my havens, whether it was Waterstone's, Barnes& Nobles or the used book shop around the corner.


But as my depression progressed, I found that I couldn't focus well enough to read, concentration was just not available. I would read for twenty minutes, then stop, realizing that I had no idea what I had just read. My work required lots of reading, which I could do, but I couldn't read for enjoyment. I would buy the books, and they would find a place in a book case, unread.

Another indication of the impact of depression was on my last true relationship. We met a few years before my diagnosis. She was quite possibly the most interesting, exciting, attractive, certainly the most fun, woman I had dated. But as my depression wrapped around my mind, and thus my life, I grew distant from her. I was not able to commit to many things, whether it was a trip or dinner tomorrow night. My non-existent self worth prevented me from accepting the relationship as actually happening. I thought I didn't deserve to be happy. I remember saying to her early on that she intimidated me, a sure sign of depression. We were in touch throughout my breakdown period. I now know that that relationship had great potential, but it was taken away by my depression. So, D., we were short changed.

So, now with a healthy mind, I can easily identify the symptoms of depression I experienced. The above are the more pronounced signs , but there were more.

A physical pain I can handle, but a mental pain is different. The pain was my mind breaking into pieces. The exhaustion, the angst were overwhelming. Depression had taken hold.


Keith