Depression – The Perfect Storm
Sorry its been a while since I last posted. A bike accident got in the way. And maybe a bit of depression as well.
The following is a post I did for the GoFundMe page that was set up to help me cover costs while I was being treated in a Melbourne hospital.
The previous post on my blog was on “Fitness” as part of the 6F & 2C Mental Health Ladder I designed to help me manage my mental health. I will return to this at another date.
The Perfect Storm & Depression
Along with having a broken body, I fell into the deep waters of suicidal bipolar depression. A period of destructive and terrifying times which absolutely felt as though it ought to carry a storm warning in the threat to my life as I know it.
This storms flooded my brain with muddy thoughts, that teared down my carefully-constructed life, I had my fight and flight mode on high alert, as this storm began to wreak havoc on my confidence, support systems, and sense of self.
At the pinnacle of this storm a friend reach through the stormy seas and made a phone call that ultimately saved my life.
I was admitted to a psychiatric hospital in Dunedin NZ, where I stayed for 2 weeks receiving care and medication adjustments. This was one of the worse emotional storms I had ever encountered as it lasted a relentless 4 solid weeks where each day was lived out in pure survival mode.
It’s very hard for me but I know that the first stage is to ride out the storm, not try to get through it but to ride it out. You see, every storm has an eye of a storm when it’s at it’s most ferocious, unforgiving, disruptive, and scariest, and to try and fight it at that point will take the very best of you of what you have in the emotional, physical, mental and social tank.
I was completely drained in all four tanks, and I know that that’s the time to take self-care to the max; whack open the toolkit that’s served me in previous storms and dive headfirst into the soothing, comforting and hunkering down stuff, on repeat until the worst has passed…but it wasn’t working this time around
I was tossed and turned into the raging ocean storm like a T-shirt on spin cycle at the highest mode. I didn’t know which way was even up. Depression magnified my physical pain so I was a lot more reliant of pain medications. I couldn’t see a way out of the darkness.
Having a broken body and a broken mind drove me to the bottom of the ocean where hope doesn’t exist.
But somebody had hope for me and along with another person they both dove down to the deepest, darkest part of the ocean floor with arms reached out to gather me and begin the process of navigating me back to the surface.
Once the worst of the storm has passed (after about a week in hospital,) there’s often an eerie silence and calm which encompasses a wake of devastation: damaged relationships, battered self-worth, and self-confidence, the coulda, shoulda, wouldas on repeat in our thoughts, the regret, the anger, the hopelessness, the broken-ness which feels unmendable and insurmountable.
I said to myself do not give up, Matt – you have inside and outside of you, everything it takes to get through this, slowly but surely.
Claim within the storm
I said to myself do not give up, Matt – you have inside and outside of you, everything it takes to get through this, slowly but surely.
There are some storms, which once gone, feel freeing in that they give us a more level playing field that we had to begin with. Perhaps it was a storm that was brewing for an awfully long time and it brought with it perspective, valuable lessons, and much-needed conversations. But some storms, like the one I had just experienced are just so frikkin’ debilitating and I need to call them out for what they are, a dung-downpour from which I often think that I will never feel myself the same again.
But I’m learning that I do not have to wade through depression alone.
There are people who have storm-stripes in that they’ve been through these things and have the hindsight or expertise to hold my hand through the rebuild. There are people whose lives I have touched who have been waiting for an opportunity to repay that. There are people waiting at the end of the phone who have friendly and patient ears waiting to hear my story who can offer guidance, differing viewpoints, and help. There are people who are more than happy, who’ll take the baton and stand in the gap for me, to share some of the burden I carry.
And lastly, there will be lessons, once the worst amount of mental debris has been cared for, where I can make time and space for the reflecting that’s bound to come but do it with the kindest of self-kindness, the most compassionate of self-compassionate, and the most forgiving of self-forgiving.
Your fellow LIFE companion,
Mattyg
