Life With Depression: Onset of the Depression

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The Depression Started

Depression, the silent killer. My story has been similar, yet also very different from so many people that suffer from depression as a mental illness.

Everyone’s story will always be different and it can be hard to say that someone has it worse than another because everyone deals with it and copes with it differently.

In this series of stories, I hope to outline my journey with Chronic Severe Treatment-Resistant Depression and Anxiety.

Hopefully, this will help raise awareness for depression as a mental illness and help to give people a better understanding of just what life is really like for those of us who have to live with this illness every day. With that out of the way, let’s dive into the beginning.

As far back as I have been able to track things with my doctors and the therapists I have seen, the depression started when I was about 12-years-old.

At the time, I didn’t know what was wrong with me, just that something wasn’t right. My energy levels were low, I was always feeling sad, I became very quiet and isolated myself quite often, and I had no desire for life.

By the time I hit grade 9 in high school, a freshman, I was pretty far into the depression. I still didn’t know what was wrong with me and I didn’t know what to say or who to say it to.

My step-dad at the time was a very businesslike man and approached everything in a business way. He was not good with emotional issues.

My mom wasn’t around much, she was always out doing her own thing and seemed to be wrapped up in herself, so I didn’t know how to approach her and, even if I did, I had no idea what was going on or how to explain it.

My First Cry For Help

Going into high school, I made my first cry for help. Although it was subtle, it made sense to me.

person with head rested on knees dressed in all black in alleywayI began wearing all black, all the time. Not in a Gothic way, or typical Gothic clothing. Just regular jeans and shirts, but all black. In my mind, people wore all black to funerals. So I was always dressed for my funeral and black represented death, which is how I was feeling, dead inside.

I guess at the time I had been hoping that someone would pick up on the sudden change and start to question me about it. Nothing ever happened, nor was anything ever questioned.

The sadness inside of me was so immense that I had no idea how to control it or what to do with it. I couldn’t figure out where it was coming from.

I didn’t have it hard at home, I was well provided for with the things I needed. No abuse or anything like that. I became very quiet and inwardly withdrawn.

The thoughts that assaulted me were terrible and just added to the confusion. Of course the thoughts of why was I feeling this way, but also thoughts of my own death. That I didn’t want to be alive or here on this earth anymore. Thoughts that people didn’t want me around and I wasn’t good at anything; I was worthless and had nothing to offer anyone.

School became very difficult. I would get anxious every day in every class, and that tripled when we had an in-class group assignment.

Being so quiet and shy that I was, no one ever asked me to be in their group with them so I always ended up going to the teacher to inform them I had no group and had to have them place me in one, which was, of course, awkward and embarrassing, just adding to the worthless feelings and the feelings that nobody wanted me around.

2 small dolls on chess board surrounded by chess piecesI could not bring myself to do any of the presentations throughout all of high school. I would do all the written work, but on the presentation days I would skip class, turn in the written work and take the decrease in the grade. The anxiety at having to get up in front of my classmates increased tenfold and terrified me, I just couldn’t do it.

My second cry for help and the first suicide attempt were not far off.

Read the next part in my personal story:

Do you suffer from depression or another mental illness? Leave a comment telling a bit of your story below!

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Richard Bailey

I have suffered from severe chronic depression for just over two decades. I have gone through many treatments and all medications that the Dr.'s I work with have available to them but have been treatment resistant. I hope to help people and inform people on mental health and wellness through this blog.


    • You’re absolutely right that some acknowledgment is all it takes to make a difference. It can completely change the outcome of someone’s day if they are feeling really depressed or on the edge.

    • Thank you. I am hoping that I will be able to get other peoples stories to post on the blog as well. Just need to come up with some key points and questions to be answered in each individual’s story. The more stories that are told the better the awareness.

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