The following piece of writing was posted on a blog I keep at Wordpress. I was approached by the management team here at My Trending Stories about writing, and when I asked about their interest in me, they expressed I had some interesting things to say about mental health. So, I felt this was a great way for me to express it in my own words. Please understand, I am not a professional and I can not offer any advice outside of my own personal perspective. But I hope this might explain what mental health struggles might look like for one person, although it can vary from person to person.==================================================================================
Ever since I first heard the word depression applied to me, I felt like I needed to find happiness. I didn’t want that label, because there was no way that should ever be applied to me. I was Mr. Optimistic, I was happy, people came to me to feel better. How could I possibly be at a place in my life where I was miserable, depressed, full of anxiety and worry? I found the concept of depression to be a choice, just like I used to tell anyone who asked – Happiness is a choice. I even argued with therapists about it…
Wait?!?! What the fuck was I seeing a therapist for, if I didn’t need to fix something in me? Something like depression. It was there. I had family members that had dealt with it. I had family members that had other mental health issues too. There was certain possibility that I had the genetic disposition to be fucked in the head. I just never thought it would happen to me, because I was always able to find happiness. I knew what made me happy, I knew what I needed to do. “So, why don’t you do them…?”, my therapists would ask. And I would gleefully respond, “Because my wife goes berserk when I do the things I enjoy…” But I knew, as soon as I said it, that they were logically beating me at my own game – this meant I made the choice to accept these issues. I chose to accept my lack of happiness. Which would mean I had the power to choose a different spot in life, right?
But that was too simple. There were other circumstances where I felt saddened and couldn’t break free of the feelings. Times when I needed outside emphasis on making the changes I needed. Times that some prodding moved me in a more positive direction. These felt like definitive examples of my depression. But the big things that convinced me were the two times I made an active contemplation of suicide – well, make that three (Actually, maybe I need to spend some time really contemplating that…or does it matter?). I find that I tend to enslave myself to my negative feelings when I can’t come up with an answer. I think it has something to do with the fact that I have a very controlling personality – sometimes I think I have the ability to change outcomes. The older I get, however, the more I begin to realize there is very little I can control.
And then I find that I am feeling unfulfilled in my life and I begin to search for the happiness I yearn for. Maybe it’s this searching that is most important. Maybe as long as I never give up searching, I’ll be able to find that elusive thing.
Published by Tar Nished