"Get a Life!" - yeah, right. (My Experience of Depression)

Member Name: helmet

Product:	My Experience of Depression
Date:	05/05/01 (58 review reads)
Rating:

Advantages: None that I can think of

Disadvantages: Loneliness

I don't even know the best way to start this.

I'm a 33-year-old fed-up bloke. Fed-up to the point of past caring (or am I?). I seem to remember being an outgoing, fun-to-be-with kinda guy when I was in my late teens; life & soul, couldn't-care-less and all that but certainly for the last decade I've been more of a 'they're talking about/laughing at me', paranoid recluse. I'm now not all that keen on socialising, as I seem to have acquired an inferiority complex convincing myself that other people will think me, or the things I say or do, stupid or boring. I have lost all confidence in myself although I know (realistically) that I'm good at a lot of things. I can't even seem to make a decision without looking for someone else to agree with it first. I've resigned myself to being single; _I_ don't like me and I certainly wouldn't want to be married to me!

Yep, I've thought of ways commit sideyways but not without damaging something or hurting those close to me. That and I'm too much of a coward.

A brief history...

For some time my parents and friends were concerned that I didn't look after myself properly; not eating, not concerned about my appearance, not bothered about getting out & meeting people, etc and that I should see a Doctor. I knew that what they were saying was true but I didn't seem to want to do anything about it.

A doctor's time is valuable and I didn't want to waste their time on something daft like this when there are plenty of others who need it. What could a Doctor do? It's not as if they can spoon-feed you or make you iron a shirt and head for the pub.

However, it did start to pray on my mind so I eventually decided to go to my GP who diagnosed Clinical Depression. Eh? Depression isn't an illness; to be depressed is to just be kinda pissed off, right? Well, apparently not as my Doc' prescribed anti-depressant
s that were, over a period of time, increased to the maximum dose. I told my Mum & Dad of this diagnosis but, with no disrespect to them, they rubbished the idea and said I needed a good kick up the backside and that I was just lazy. This didn't help.

OK, so now what happens? I'm taking pills. Did I get undepressed? I can't say that I did, though my mate said I seemed to be on better form. I didn't start eating any more, I didn't go out more often. My GP referred me on to a Psychologist and whilst waiting for an appointment I just stopped taking the tablets. It wasn't a conscious decision to stop, I certainly don't recall making that decision (I can't seem to remember much at all these days), I just wasn't taking them any more.

The thought of seeing a Psychologist was strangely of no concern but actually making myself go to the appointments was a different matter. I had some irrational fear that I would say something wrong and although totally unfounded, this never eased as the appointments continued. I also admit to making excuses for not attending a couple although I had no good reason not to. During these sessions with the Psychologist I was told that it was me that was stopping me from making changes in my life, convincing myself that something drastic would happen. How did she put this? It wasn't 'disasterising' but it was something like that. I was also told that I didn't have to worry about trying to do things perfectly; that it was OK to be wrong. I understood what I was hearing; it made sense but I couldn't seem to make the logic thoughts override the 'disasterising' ones. Argh, I wish I could remember that word! Eventually the Psychologist said that I was unconsciously committing suicide and that she would have to refer me on to a Psychiatrist as she had gone as far as she could.

I genuinely couldn't attend the first session with the Psychiatrist and asked for it
to be changed then waited for the new appointment to be arranged. I waited for a couple of weeks but thought it was too soon to 'phone; they'd think me impatient. So I waited until it got to the stage that it was too late to 'phone them; they would think me stupid for not calling sooner.

That was 2 years ago. I never had the neck to call them back and it's only recently I've gone back to my GP. She's referred me again so I'll have to wait and see what comes of it.

I told myself I would just write this and not worry about what you thought of it but it's still taken just over 2½ hours to get it done and that word's still bugging me. It may have been 'catastrophising' now I think of it. Anyway, I've probably missed something and it’s too long as it is...

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