Tag: major depression

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I Pressed On!

A very dear friend sent me this post today which says, ‘If you rearrange the letters in Depression, you’ll get ; “I Pressed On”. Little did she know how desperately I needed to be reminded of that; ‘Your current situation is NOT your final destination.’ And then in her own words she wrote; ‘You have been pressing on! The rewards for you are just up ahead! Hugs. I believe this was no coincidence but God’s reminder to me that I will make it through this storm.

It’s been several weeks now and I have been pressing on, but barely. My depression, like any other illness, sometimes gets the better of me and I get so scared that this time I’m not going to make it. That my strength, my fuel is going to run out and just like a car; I cannot run on an empty tank. And to describe it best, that’s exactly how I’ve been feeling; like I’m running on an empty tank. I have used up every ounce of strength, energy and will power that I have left. Today I awakened with panic, if you haven’t experienced what a panic attack is, then be thankful, very thankful. It paralyzes and disables every part of your body. But I know I can’t let it, so ‘I Press On’. I force my legs over the side of the bed and let my feet hit the floor. And the thoughts of facing another day of fighting this broken mind, so overwhelms me. Again I ask for God’s strength, wisdom and guidance for another day. And that He would be my fuel in my empty tank, that He would take the wheel of my life and steer me over the rough road ahead.

You see I have a disability; not a physical one that confines me to a wheelchair, like my darling Lauren, but a disability of my mind, a disability that confines me to my broken mind. Not trapped in a wheelchair but trapped inside my mind. A mind that is so fragile, that on the darkest days; I can only see sadness, hopelessness, helplessness and emptiness. But ‘I Press On’ and hope that tomorrow will be better.

Depression as become the epidemic of the century. The statistics speak for themselves. According to the Canadian Mental Health Association, 1 in 5 people in Canada will personally experience a mental illness. And according to the World Health Organization, more then 264 million people of all ages suffer from depression. Close to 800,000 people die due to suicide every year. With statistics such as these, the stigma that is associated with mental illness should be greatly affected and reduced. No one is exempt from having a mental illness, no more then someone is exempt from having cancer. So let’s respect, be nonjudgmental and be kind to all persons and may we realize that tomorrow we could be suffering a mental illness.

If you are suffering today from a mental illness, let me assure you that you are not alone. And that there are people out there who really do care and do want to help. I encourage you today to stand tall, with your head held high, we have nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to hide, we have an ILLNESS called DEPRESSION. So let’s rearrange those letters and lets say, “I PRESSED ON!” We can do this, you can do this! I believe in YOU!

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The Silent Killer

I wouldn’t say that Winter is my most favourite time of the year. The freezing cold, slippery streets and sidewalks, back breaking shovelling of the snow and the claustrophobic confinement inside your home because of a monstrous snowstorm. None of which make for the ideal situation for someone suffering from chronic depression and anxiety. I would call Winter, ‘One big trigger for mental illness.’ And then there’s the relentless hours of darkness, where daylight savings time is at it’s cruelest.  We require, as human beings, a certain amount of daylight each day in order to produce enough vitimin D, which  in turn increases our mood and helps combat anxiety and depression; that’s not always possible this time of the year.

But I’ve been doing fairly well and by fairly well, I don’t mean cured. But it’s been managable for the most part, with a lot of daily work; it certainly doesn’t  happen naturally. But at least I can function, to a certain degree. This functioning level recently was misinterpreted falsely by someone’s ignorance and boldness. When she stated in an email that I was more then capable of working and that I shouldn’t burden my family, friends and Community with the financial responsibility of Lauren’s needs. Our hearts were broken and torn that someone could be so cruel and insensitive.

In reality I have no obligation to explain the status of my health to the general public. Nor do I need public clearance for when I go back to work. I think this would be my doctor’s area of expertise and the public should keep their opinions and comments to themselves. It’s really sad that I feel the need to even justify my illness. I guess that’s why it’s sometimes referred to as the ‘hidden/silent killer.’ It’s an illness that you don’t always see on the outside. And when I go in public I’ve mastered how to act ‘normal’ despite an abnormal illness. The public will never see my worst days; it’s those days I hide; I isolate. But in the end , it lends significantly to the public’s misconceptions about the severity of my illness because just maybe what they are seeing and what the reality of my illness is, are two different things.

I’m telling this because it’s easy to judge a person’s well being on what you see; and you certainly cannot diagnose the severity of my illness or the wellness of my being by what you see. But when you see me, you aren’t seeing all of me. I write this because I want people to understand that when someone looks okay on the outside, certainly doesn’t mean that eveything is fine on the inside. Sometimes we are so quick to judge someone else and to dictate what we think is right for that person. But if we don’t walk in their shoes, we have no right to judge that person. So if we can’t say something nice about someone, it’s best to say nothing at all. And for a lot of people that is near impossibe to do. I have to live with this illness, every fighting day of my life; as does so many others who are fighting this battle called mental illness.

I believe (I know) we have been the topic of conversation around many supper tables. I have never experienced such cruelty, gossip and backbiting in all my life.  And the topic of conversation being our fundraising efforts in order to give our six years old little girl, who has cerebral palsy, and who’s needs far outway the needs of a ‘normal’ child. We were told we were a burden to others and society. It’s attacks like this that make it near impossible for us to live a normal life. Life is hard enough as it is while trying to raise a child with a disability, 24/7 365days a year and no government funding. But then to have to deal with such cruelty, added stress and humilitation is beyond humane.

But we will move forward, with courage, strength and hope; despite adversity, hatred and insensitivety. We are so grateful for those in our lives who support us with their love, compassion and encouragement. It’s those people that help us each day to put one foot in front of the other, without them we could not survive. I am sorry that I have to write such a disturbing blog but I feel exposure is the best and only remedy.

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ASHAMED

It’s been weeks and I have written nothing. Not because I didn’t want to but because I couldn’t. I couldn’t lift that pen and start letting my pain flow onto the paper. I was ashamed of how I was feeling, ashamed that my depression swept over me like constant grief. I was like someone grieving over death and my grief was not getting any easier. So rather then writing about my depression/grief, I tried to hide it on the inside. I had shared my illness in countless blogs before and here I  am years later and still struggling. I was ashamed, ashamed that I can’t beat this beast within my prisoned mind. But then I realized, that’s why I have to write, to enlighten those reading, just what living with depression is like. It’s not always something that is here today and gone tomorrow. No, mine as lasted a lifetime. A lifetime of fighting, a lifetime of being ashamed.

I have had moments when I thought that shame was gone, times when I felt I had nothing to be ashamed of. But depression is not that forgiving, it will remind me over and over again. It will remind me until it as me beaten down so far, that all I want to do is hide it and suffer in silence. Well, once again here I am, fighting back! Fighting back with the little bit of fight that I have left in me.

My very good friend reminded me of just how brave someone is, that is fighting a mental illness. It’s in the words of this poem by Lana Rafaela;

I Think It’s Brave

I think it’s brave that you get up

in the morning even if your soul is weary

and your bones ache for a rest.

I think it’s brave that you keep on living

even if you don’t know how to anymore.

I think it’s brave that you push

away the waves rolling in every day

and you decide to fight.

I know there are days when you

feel like giving up but I think it’s brave

that you never do.

But there are some moments when I do give up. Moments when I just can’t fight anymore. Moments when hidden away behind closed doors; I just loose it and cry out to God, ‘I just can’t do this anymore’. I guess in some way, God reaches down and pulls me to my feet and says, ‘Now go fight, I am with you.’ And I do!

It seems the headlines almost everyday is filled with issues pertaining to mental illness. One such headline I read recently stated, ‘Pastor and Mental Health Advocate Jarrid Wilson Dies by Suicide’. (Notice they didn’t say, ‘committed suicide’, committed implies you performed an illegal act, for instance; you commit murder). Jarrid suffered from depression and often posted on social media about his own battles with the mental illness. His wife posted on Instagram; ‘ No more pain, my Jerry, no more struggle. You are made complete and you are finally free’. Prior to his passing he wrote a post encouraging followers to remember that even though loving Jesus doesn’t cure illnesses such as depression, PTSD or anxiety, Jesus does offer companionship and comfort. He confides that he had dealt with ‘severe depression throughout most of his life and contemplated suicide on multiple occasions.’ In his summer blog post, Jarrid challenged the idea some Christians have that those who die by suicide are condemned to hell.’

I’m quoting from an article published by Christianity Today. ‘Christians wouldn’t tell someone with a physical illness like cancer they are going to hell because of their diagnosis, he noted. Neither should they assume it of people with mental illnesses, which can lead many people to do things they wouldn’t otherwise do if they didn’t struggle.’

“Those who say suicide automatically leads to hell obviously don’t understand the totality of mental health issues in today’s world, let alone understand the basic theology behind compassion and God’s all consuming grace,’ he said.

We must do better at educating people on things they have a hard time wrapping their heads around. And mental health is definitely a topic  Christians around the world must yearn to better understand.’ It’s then we will be less quick to judge and swifter to be the arms of Jesus, showing compassion and tenderness without prejudice.

I am so thankful for the gift that God as bestowed upon me to be a mental health advocate. Having a first hand experience with mental illness myself has given me the drive, the passion, the compassion, the determination to break down the walls of stigma and judgement that is still so prevalent in our world today. This gift as not come without its consequences, misconceptions, losses, misunderstandings, isolation and hurts. But I believe that’s what Jesus was referring to when He said, ‘If anyone desires to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow Me (Luke 9:23).’ To follow Jesus was going to cost us something; the cross was not going to be easy to carry. This was not going to be a road of ease, feel good or prosperity path.

And so today I am still struggling, I still hurt, I still feel pain, I still have days that I can’t go on but I do. And for those of you who know exactly what I’m talking about; I pray for God’s grace and healing for all of us. Let’s go on, we can do this!

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His Love Has No Limit

I believe it’s when I’m in the most pain, that God uses me the most. My pain triggers my brain to unleash what’s imprisoned in my mind. Some thoughts are impossible to describe by my pen, they have to be lived and felt in order to fully comprehend the pain they bring to one’s life. I am not referring here to the feeling of down-in-the-dumps kind of pain.

When major/clinical depression hits, and it can hit at any moment, without warning; one’s ‘self’ can disappear into the depression, you loose who you really are. Your personality is dissolved with your tears, your soul is destroyed by it’s flames, your being is no more. You exist, nothing more then a robot, you go through the motions. But you search and long for that ‘you’, the one that you once knew. The one that you felt love towards, now you hate what you have become. Not that I have become a monster but quite the opposite. There are times when it seems as though someone came into my space and turned the lights off; I was in complete darkness. That was the acute stage of this illness.

Today I still have this illness and struggle with it everyday. Not unlike someone with any other incurable illness have to struggle with theirs on a day to day bases. I still have days when I find it hard to even do the small tasks that need to be done, but I do them. I now know my limits and only do what I can with what I have. There are still days when sadness overflows me like a flood. And days when my strength and drive is at it’s lowest.

But having said all of that, I believe, and no I’m not getting all religious on you and no it’s not my illness or my medication talking, I am totally of a sound and sane mind. But I am going to tell you that the only way I have survived this illness thus far is through the constant presence of my Heavenly Father. On days when I am not doing so well, I hold onto His hand a little tighter. And when I was at the acute stage of my illness, when I could not hold on; then it was those days that He literally carried me. There is no other explanation. Nothing! The medical field can only do so much and then no more.

But then the Great Physician steps in. And that’s why I’m still here today, to tell you there is hope in Jesus. He is not my last resort but my only hope! And He can be yours too. No matter what you are struggling with today, no matter what your addiction is, no matter your illness, no matter your pain. It doesn’t matter how hopeless you feel, how far down you may be. Jesus can and will raise you up again! There is only one answer, when you feel you have exhausted all resources, He is ‘still’ there.

I want to leave with you a portion of a song that sums up this blog and reinforces what I’m trying to say:

His love has no limit, His grace has no measure, His pow’r has no boundary known onto men; For out of His infinite riches in Jesus, He giveth, and giveth, and giveth again.                                                           When we have exhausted our store of endurance, When our strength has failed ere the day is half done; When we reach the end of our hoarded resources, Our Father’s full giving is only begun.

I pray today that this blog as reached the ears of the hurting, to the heart that is broken, to the soul that is helpless; may you find peace and healing in the one that loves you unconditionally. He loves you just as you are, no matter what. And if He’s not your Saviour today, it’s not too late. He loves you just as you are; broken, tired, hopeless and lost. Ephesians 2:8 “For by grace are you saved through faith, and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God”.

 

 

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Mental Illness; So What?

Mental illness has been one of the most misunderstood, stigmatized and misdiagnosed illnesses of all time. To be honest it’s only in more recent years to be even considered an illness. Speaking from experience, I believe I’ve become a little bit of an ‘expert’ in the field. Not because I’m a trained therapist, I’m not, but I believe there are some things you cannot learn from a book. Don’t get me wrong, I have great respect for those working in the mental health field. But living with a mental illness all my life has given me knowledge, understanding and insight that I would have never  received if I  had not suffered from this horrific illness myself. Mine being Major (Clinical) Depression and Anxiety.

I have paid an enormous price for this insight into mental illness. It as cost me greatly, I have lost so much because of my illness and brought much pain and worry to both my families. And also it’s affected so much of my social life, especially that being the lost of many friends and close acquaintances.

When I’m experiencing a ‘not so good day’, I just need to be alone but yet it’s the last thing I want. Being alone is the last thing someone should be when not feeling well. A sure symptom of depression is isolating, where socializing and being around people is hard to do. You can feel all alone in the most crowded room. Or to the opposite extreme where being around people can make you feel so overwhelmed and anxiety provoking. You feel guilty because you are feeling sad and you don’t want to bring others down. And there are days when you just can’t hide how you are really feeling, for the sake of others. You have to be honest and admit, I’m not having a good day.

I cannot remember the last time I could say, ‘I had a good day’. I sat in my doctor’s office, with tears trickling down my face and I looked into his eyes and said, ‘If this is living, I’m not living’. I have an amazing, compassionate, caring doctor but he doesn’t have the answers; there is only so much that he can do. It is my belief that what can be done both medically and therapeutically for me, is done. The brain is the most complex organ in the body and the least is known about it. Therefore it is least treatable.

Am I discouraged? Yes, I have days when I think, what’s the point? And feel like flushing my meds down the toilet. I’m not winning this war. But then I think of where I was six years ago, to where I am today; I’ve come a long way. I have to believe that achieving and maintaining a healthy mind is not a single battle, but an on going war. And God knows I have fought my battles, I’m still in the war. But I cannot throw down my armour and wave my white flag in surrender and let depression win, I just can’t. Even when I feel like all options are gone, I still have the promise of God; to never leave me or forsake me.

I feel like I’m walking on water, but I’m sinking… I’m going down. But I’ve taken my medication religiously, I’ve done everything right to my knowledge but yet that heavy gnawing inside me; a sad, aching feeling that something isn’t right inside my head. The darkness is desperately trying to swallow me. Depression may be in my mind, but it’s not in my imagination, this is real. You know that something is wrong and you are grasping for help.

When you’re in the darkness of depression, you need a reason to hope. But lately I’m having days when hope is nearly gone. Even if you’re trying medications (and I’ve tried what seems like hundreds) that didn’t work, at least I still felt I was doing something, even if that something is figuring out what won’t work. But if we do nothing at all, then we are hopeless. So to keep hope alive, I fight with every ounce of strength I have within me and pray that my strength doesn’t fail. A very scary place to be.

I know that because this illness is so stigmatized and misunderstood, that many minimize it’s seriousness and existence. I can sit here for hours and talk of my experience but the best way I feel you may get a better understanding of this illness and what it can do, is for me to give you some statistics to prove my point.

300 million people around the world have depression, according to the World Health Organization.

Depression is the leading cause of disability in the workplace.

1 in 5 people in Canada will experience a mental illness (Canadian Mental Health Association).

The Centre for Suicide Prevention states: “The number of people who die by suicide each year in Canada equates to a jumbo jet 747 crashing and killing everyone on board….. every single month of the year. If as many people died in plane crashes as they do by suicide, there would be a pubic uproar. Instead, SUICIDE is swept under the carpet and not talked about”.

The latest research shows there were 3,926 suicides in Canada in 2016.

Canada loses close to 200 children and youth to suicide every year.

Today in Canada 10 people will end their lives by suicide; up to 200 others will attempt so.

Suicide is currently ranked as the 9th leading cause of death in Canada.

Majority of suicides are due to some form mental illness.

The statistics speak for themselves, ‘this illness is real’. And not talking about it will not make it go away but will only intensify it’s effect on mankind. I believe that with time, these statistics will keep growing and we are headed for an epidemic that will be out of control. I pray that I am wrong but time will tell. Watch the Clock!

 

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A Day In The Life of My Mental Illness

 

 

 

 

 

I am so sick and tired of mental illness! I hate it! And I’m sure you must be tired of reading about my mental illness. Why do I do this? Why do I feel the need to blog? Why can’t someone else who’s probably a better writer, more qualified, more gifted, take up the torch. This week as been rough (what else is new lol); I took up my pen several times to write something. But there was nothing, I felt numb, blank, empty, nothing left to give, nothing left to share. The battle with my illness had left me powerless and speechless. I had nothing left to share that could possibly help someone else, I felt I needed someone to help me.

You see when you have been given a diagnoses such has mine, it is something that’s not going away; there is no cure. Just like cancer (and I am not comparing, they are two totally different illnesses) but in some ways they are alike. My ‘cancer’ as killed and destroyed who I am, it eats away at your soul, your self, your being and your will. It leaves you with the haunting fear of a relapse.

So this past week as awakened my somewhat sleeping monster. Before my eyes are opened to face the day; my mind is busy with crippling nightmares. Nightmares of being on a locked down unit on an hospital ward, not a prison ward. A prisoner not a patient. I will forever be traumatized by those evil days of hospitalization. Traumatized by the reality of knowing that I am treatment resistant and I have exhausted all available treatments. My dreams will not let me forget this mesmerizing reality. Then there’s the memories (of what memory I have left of that time) of ECT. In my dreams I’m awakened before the treatment is complete and I’m strapped to the bed and no one will free me. Then morning comes and I realize I’m safe, safe from my dreams but never safe from my reality.

I have to take control of my thoughts as soon as my eyes are open, if not, they could easily spiral out of control to a point of being extremely overwhelmed and panic could easily take over. But thankfully I am still able, to some extent, control my own thoughts. With a mental illness there are not just the mental symptoms but also the physical symptoms. There are times when panic attacks (and thankfully right now are pretty much under control) but I still experience related symptoms such as an extreme rise in body temperature and feelings of mild fear and panic. It’s my goal to keep them from escalating into a full blown panic attack; which I never want to experience again. So I start my day as if every things okay.

All day, every day, my physical body feels triple it’s weight, there’s an heaviness that never goes away. It may fluctuate but never leaves. Then there’s the rising tides of emotion that you just want to cry. Most times you don’t even know why; you just do.  Then you don’t  want to start because if you do, it just won’t stop. But sometimes I believe your emotions can be used for your good; a form of release. To admit this makes me feel weak but the truth is; God gave us emotions for a reason. Many times in the Bible, Jesus is recorded as being emotional; ‘Jesus wept.’ If Jesus can cry, and He’s the Son of God; then so can I. Because someone doesn’t shed tears, doesn’t make them any stronger then someone who does ( but if the truth were known; everyone cries). I remember my Dad being a very emotional man, especially when he talked of spiritual things and the faithfulness of God. And because of that I respect him, and admire his compassion for others; he had a big heart that made him a very strong, wise and gentle man. I hope to be just half the man he was, he left me with a great legacy that I hope I will live up to and make him proud. And when we meet again, I hope he can look at me and say, ‘See, I told you, you could do it’. But right now, today, I feel I can’t do it. But I will, somehow find my way.

By the time half my day is done; fatigue sets in, not just tired but exhausted. I fight it as long as I can but there are times when I just give in and have no choice but take a nap. And of course that makes me feel guilty, I’m not suppose to sleep in the middle of the day. But sometimes I just have to listen to my body and rest.

It’s my prayer everyday to just be able to have a day when I feel free and not be held captive by my mind. To just enjoy life, my wife and children without being dictated by my mind of what I can or cannot do. I get angry, angry at myself, angry at not being able to rid myself of this illness. I just want to live, not just to survive.

Not everyone who has a mental illness experience what I am experiencing. Every person is different and their journey may not be at all comparable to mine. If you are reading this and you experience a mental illness (mine being Major Depression and Anxiety Disorder), I hope that you cannot relate to what I am saying because I would not want to wish this on my worse enemy (I hope I have no enemies). I may be treatment resistant but that doesn’t mean that you are or will be. I pray that you will respond to your treatment successfully and are able to live a normal, functioning life. And although I may not be responding well to treatment, I am responding to a certain extent; just not to the point where I would like to be. But I will not give up hope, I will fight to the end!

 

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My Outlook On Life After My Last Severe Relapse Of A Total Mental Breakdown.

How has my traumatic experience affected my overall perception of life? It has certainly changed it in a more positive way. I now look at life has being a gift each day because at any moment our lives can change without any notice. A life altering traumatic experience can change our lives forever or death can come knocking on our door; we are not meant to live forever, that’s life. After experiencing  both traumas; I now perceive life to be something that is totally out of our control. It’s a day by day experience that we should never take for granted.

Having survived my worse nightmare, when I really thought I was never going to make it; but I did. I am totally thankful , grateful, and amazed at where I am today. I am now at a more functioning level to a point, stronger and very insightful.

I am also very aware of the pain that this illness can inflict on a person. It’s a pain that is so overwhelming and intense, that you feel well never end. You think there is no light left but  gradually the light comes back on and life once again can become a little brighter.Sunny days start to become sunny again, because when you are at the acute stage of your illness, all you see is the fog. It’s not a weakness but a painful illness. I now live in the moment; not in the past, nor in the future. The past is over and done with and we are not promised tomorrow, only today.

I am now a champion fighter for mental health, I’m not saying I have all the answers and I’m definitely not saying I’m cured but I now am an advocate for mental health and mental ill persons. Without having gone through this traumatic illness I would never have been able to do what I do today. So in some ways I am thankful (a very big price to pay) but when someone says, they are depressed, suffering from anxiety, living in darkness, not wanting to live anymore; I can honestly say, ‘I can relate’. I know what you are going through, you are not alone! It took me five years to be able to say I am thankful for what I went through and there are still some days that I am not thankful. Days when I am reminded of all I’ve lost that being; relationships, materialism, confidence, self-worth, my purpose, time, memories. Now it’s all about finding my new normal.

Do I like my new normal, to be honest and truthful; not really.  I didn’t choose to move from a place I called home and was quite content; St.John’s. I didn’t choose to give up my profession. I didn’t choose much of anything, my illness dictated it. I certainly didn’t choose to put my family; especially my wife and two children through this trauma. Never in a million years would I have thought I’d be living in Bay Roberts (not that there’s anything wrong with it). I was quite content right where I was. But gradually now , with time, patience, a shift in thinking; I’m doing okay and becoming more content.

I will never be the person I was before my breakdown, but that doesn’t mean my life is over. I am so filled with gratitude to where God has brought me; He really does have a sense of humour (I don’t always think it’s funny lol). But I am so glad and thankful that He brought me out of the pit of despair.

My perception of life has certainly changed. I certainly won’t ever take life for granted and I will always believe there is an higher power. There has to be; there’s more to life then ‘this’. We were never meant to walk this journey of life alone, even from creation God was present. This is one battle that you/I cannot fight alone. You have to search for that power/strength within you, that being God. We ourselves work in the natural  but with God we work in the supernatural.

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Depression is a Choice! Words Matter!

Be careful the words you say…. they could kill!

The Bob’s of the world are out there and they believe that we have a choice. We choose to be depressed. I am so tired of hearing this and then there’s ‘be strong’. Are you trying to say I am weak? I’m sick! How can you be depressed, you have everything going for you? You have a beautiful wife, beautiful kids, a nice house, etc.. What’s your problem? I don’t have a problem, I have an illness. If I won the lottery today, it would not make any difference to my mental health; that’s not the way depression works.

We are not talking about someone who is down because their cat died or a down day; feeling a bit blue. Everybody have days like that but what I’m talking about is a neurological, biological, chemical issue with their brain and they don’t know what’s going on, they are scared to death. The last thing you need is someone minimizing, misunderstanding and misjudging you.

The thing about clinical/major depression is people on the outside cannot see it. You don’t wear it on your chest (you probably should, then people might get it). You wear a smile on your face and put on a fascade that you could win an Academy Award. That person appears great and then they kill themselves. But they looked and seemed fine the last time I saw them! We can fake it to the bitter end  if we think we have to. We don’t wear our depression on our skin like a rash. To preserve our pride, dignity, our ego; to hide from the Bob’s. Don’t listen to these people who think they have all the answers; the Bob’s of the world, they will always be. But don’t take it personally.

Let me paint you a dark picture Bob. You might walk around self righteous, in your “good” mental state and say something ignorant to a friend or family member (who is suffering from depression), that you make them feel so embarrassed, ashamed, so unworthy of their illness, insecure that they are not stable like you, that they might go and kill themselves. You might have killed someone; that’s what ‘words’ can do.

So if you don’t know what you’re talking about; shut up! I know we have the well do’ers who think they’re helping by saying certain things like; ‘be strong’, ‘think positive’, ‘you don’t have anything to be depressed about. You’ve been blessed if you have not been clinically depressed or dealt with major depression, anxiety or suicidal thoughts. But we are not that fortunate. So saying something hurtful (maybe not intentionally meaning too) but you say it anyway; can push that person over the edge. So be careful what you say, is it really going to do some good or will it harm someone, think before you speak. Some of us don’t have that luxury of choosing to be well, it just happens and out of our control.

We all need to look out to each other, we all matter, each life matters. The people that are depressed, didn’t ask to be depressed. If you have nothing nice to say, say nothing at all. And pray, pray you never get depressed. If I could pass this illness over to you for just one moment; you would never say something insensitive, mean, ignorant, cold ever again.

So overlook the “Bob’s” of the world. You matter, what you feel is real. Embrace the people that understand and truly care. You’re going to be ok! Don’t listen to the Bob’s of the world but listen to your own heart. And to the Bob’s of the world; SHUT UP! WORDS MATTER!