Being diagnosed with depression was heart-breaking. I knew of no one else who had surrendered to this terrible disease. But I couldn’t deny there was something wrong with me. I had been in tears every day for many months and had no idea why. When I was finally diagnosed, I faithfully went to see my psychiatrist every 3 months, always in tears. Therapy was something I had never had before and it was just starting to become in vogue in 1991 when this happened to me. I was embarrassed enough to be taking anti-depressants; admitting to myself that I needed to talk to a counsellor of some sort was just something I wasn’t prepared to do at that time. There were only 2 people that knew I was taking an anti-depressant; my husband and a girlfriend of mine. Although I never really talked about it openly with either one of them. I took that little pill faithfully every day and felt better within six weeks. I was back to being my energetic, carefree self again. What I was really doing was putting all my problems on the back burner, where I didn’t have to face them, which was something I had done up to that point in my life anyway.
I was under the impression that my psychiatrist would provide me with more than medication. But the only thing he did was increase the anti-depressant to “stop the crying” when I landed in his office in tears. I don’t blame him; he was an “old school” psychiatrist and was doing what he had been taught to do.
It wasn’t until I was forced to see a social worker that I began to have hope that my life could change.
My husband had been transferred to Colorado from Canada to work and I wanted to support him in his career even though I knew in my heart that our marriage was a big part of the problem. With the medical plan that we were given there it included seeing a psychiatrist and social worker. The psychiatrist supplied me with medication but the social worker was there to listen to me. And listen she did! After just 6 weeks of seeing her I knew the time had come to end my marriage. I had arrived in Colorado Spring optimistic about this little adventure our family was on. But within two weeks of being there I was drained of energy. It took everything I had to get our children off to school every day. I just wanted to lie on the couch all day with a cover over my head in tears. However, I did keep my appointments with my medical team. This social worker allowed me to talk and talk and talk. When I began to waiver about leaving my husband she was very forceful and told me I had to go to see if I could find happiness outside of my marriage. That social worker helped me to begin what was to be My Journey Back To Myself (http://ift.tt/2evjkll).
If you are in distress and don’t have a therapist I would suggest getting one, and fast! Within days of me making up my mind in my head that I was heading back to Canada at Christmas my depression started to lift. I was excited about my future even though I was venturing into the unknown. Saying goodbye to our children was hard. But I had to take care of me if I was ever going to be a good role model for them.
On the day that I loaded up my van and began to back out of the driveway of our home in Colorado Springs I felt my shoulders completely relax. That was the only answer I needed to confirm I was making the right decision. Through tears of joy I said, “Thank you God!” “Thank you God!”
Writer & Keynote Speaker
via bpHope – bp Magazine Community