“There are wounds that never show on the body
that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds.”

― Laurell K. Hamilton, Mistral’s Kiss

 

In the not too distant past, after a very stressful (yet important) time in my life when the demands of the day outstripped my capabilities, I just put my head down and pushed forward with as much ability and positive attitude that I could muster. Eventually, I discovered there was a cost to this situation and to my response.

Every day was a new challenge and an impending crisis. What I thought would be days, weeks, or months turned into a year during which time I neglected my own well-being to such an extent that I gained one hundred pounds, became a type-2 diabetic, lost the ability to sleep, risked my business, and presented to the E.R. on two occasions with level ten pain that would remain undiagnosed.

I find it easy and even more comfortable to put others first. I don’t regret or deny this instinct but I know that if I don’t find the balance in our current crisis, I may find myself, once again, in the ditch.

I share this story today because even after I again turned my attention to myself, I realized it was a little too little and a little too late — my physical health had been compromised.

Along the way, I didn’t ask for help. Or give too much weight to my obvious symptoms and thus denied the darkness that had crept over my soul. When I could finally rest, I put my head on the pillow and couldn’t get up.

The mourning of the loss I had pushed away fell on me like a foundation stone of a temple, trapping me in a dark hole. I jokingly called myself ‘cheerful, tearful’ because I would cry at any situation.

” I learned that my depression never destroyed what was great about me.
You just have to go back to that greatness, and find that one little light that’s left.” 

— Lady Gaga

It was a friend who asked me to accept help as he wanted to “See his friend again.” The walking zombie of me, whom I kept closed away, could be seen by a few close friends. I covered up my inability to leave the house or get dressed or engage by using my energy for the most essential tasks.

I, who can recognize depression in everyone else, was going to muscle through on my own with the will power I once had. By the way, it didn’t work. No amount of intellect, energy (which suddenly is in scarce supply), goal-orientation, or positive attitude can turn on the tap of serotonin in your brain if the tap has rusted shut. That is what my primary care doctor explained to me.

This was not because I was weak-willed but because my brain chemistry needed to be reset.

After waiting too long, I accepted help and my road back to physical, spiritual, social, and mental fitness was reclaimed. It took a year. I lost the weight, out-distanced diabetes, addressed the pain, found my ability to sleep and the brain fog cleared. I am so very grateful.

I share this with you because I sense that as we all are doing our best — feeling the stress, trying to present to our children, our spouses, our families, friends, and co-workers with our best-selves — we may generously be holding up as many people as possible and perhaps not attending to our own needs. It is the easiest thing in the world to do. So I understand. What I also know is that we are in this for the long-haul and you will be needed.

I share this, not because I have mastered these behaviors, but because I don’t want to land in the dark hole again or see my friends dance with the shadow of depression. When it lands, you won’t want anyone to know. It doesn’t align with your image of yourself or the identity you want others to remember. Please don’t make it a secret. Don’t close the door on the dark closet.

The first step is to shine a light on your need. Accept the right kind of help. And learn to lean on other strong people.

Another friend asked, ‘What’s wrong. I miss you. Why aren’t you around?’ and I simply replied that I had fallen into a dark hole. His response was, ‘Well get a ladder and climb out.’ Good advice. But I wasn’t even able to get out of bed so I didn’t anticipate finding a ladder. I had waited too long. But his comments did stir me to action. I became aware that my malaise could be seen by others and I was greatly afraid that my secret would spill out.

The ‘energizer-bunny’ friend, entrepreneur, and family member was no more. Yikes!

As the weeks tick on in this surreal world situation, I can feel my need to be super busy and contributing taking over my more balanced approach to life. I share my story as a confession and a commitment to not letting myself become lost again.

And, for being there if you need a listening ear. 


What is depression like?
It’s like drowning, except everyone around you is breathing.

 

Leslie