I have a problem. I realize this. Most of you do not know about this problem. But lately I have been thinking about opening up this problem to the outside world. It is a scary proposition, but after thoughtful consideration, I believe I am ready.
I suffer from depression. Actually, my clinical diagnosis is Major Depressive Disorder (MDD) and Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD). I have kept this a secret from most people, and by most I mean the vast majority of the people in my life. I have had to act, and lie at times, to keep this a secret, but no more.
Our nation has a mental health problem. It is not that everyone is crazy, it is just having a disorder like mine is almost taboo. The only way to get around this is to shine some light on the subject. Although my flashlight is very small, it may light the way for one person, and that is enough for me.
My depression started long ago. I am not sure when or why. I guess that is often the case. I remember being very sad even back to elementary school. Definitely I had what I now know is depression by about age 13 or 14. I had my ups and downs. Some periods were fine, others were very dark. I went quite awhile without a major episode. Probably eight years or so. But a few years ago I began sliding back downhill. Further and further down, until I hit bottom.
Like many others with depression or any number of other mental illnesses, I did not seek treatment for my problem for a very long time. When I did decide to get help I was amazed at just how hard it was to find the help I wanted and needed. I spent a few days calling different psychiatry and psychology offices. Every time they either didn't take my insurance, or even more often were not accepting new patients. I finally found one that was taking new patients and my insurance. The catch? The next available appointment was over three months away. I almost lost it. So, I asked if there was any hope of something sooner, and the disengaged receptionist told me that I could be put on the waiting list for a cancellation, but that wasn't very likely. Even more frustrated I said "So short of checking in to a hospital or killing myself, what are my options?" The woman had the gall to tell me "Well, unfortunately even hospitals are turning away some patients." This was... Shocking. I could barely mutter any words. When given two options she just told me that the only sure fire way was to kill myself. Nice.
I called one last place, a place I had tried before but was closed when I called. Last ditch effort to get help. They actually took me. First appointment was a couple weeks away, much better than a season away. They put me on the waiting list for cancellations, and they actually had one within a couple days and I got in sooner.
The psychiatrist I saw was surprised I never sought treatment before. He said most people who go as long as I did don't make it. I guess it is the little victories. I was put on some medications, had to be switched because the one was causing some odd reactions. I won't go too far into the medication merry-go-round that ensues to try and find the right combination with this post. I have to save something right?
So I guess this just about does it for my introductory post. My next one I will talk about some of the symptoms I had leading up to seeking treatment.
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