So I signed up with a few friends to do this 7-day blog challenge. Unfortunately, I had nothing to write about and its 3am the next morning of day 2 so I have to push something onto this blog. So let's talk about the most uncomfortable topic in my life... depression.
In college I found my purpose in life. I lived giving everything I had for that goal. I would pull 2-3 all-nighters a week for this and I used all my disposable income for this and I WAS HAPPY living that way. I was an idealist and perfectionist. So that crazy goal was attainable and I would refine every aspect of my life until I got there. At least that's how I was trained to. Then it all came crashing down.
When I was 30 I went through the most difficult time of my life. Through hurts from those I was closest to AND my own failures, I was either running away from or was ostracized by every single person I knew. That's not an exaggeration. I lived in utter isolation as I was spiraling out of control from this driven, motivated, structured, goal-oriented life. To add to the trauma I stepped down from my high-profile job in the midst of all this leaving me friend-less, family-less, job-less, purpose-less, and hope-less.
I was depressed.
The 2 things that kept me from melting into a pile of goo were:
- Basketball - growing up a basketball fan and falling out-of-love with the NBA, I had an excuse to attend every Warrior game and that frequency multiple times a week helped get me out of the house.
- Battlestar Galactica - having never seen it and it being a pretty long series, I bought the DVDs and watched hours of it everyday. Appreciate that TV show for keeping me entertained and away from my fracking thoughts.
But in hindsight there's no doubt I was depressed. I wasn't eating right and could go a whole day without leaving the house to eat and still wouldn't be that hungry because my emotional stress was so high. I definitely wasn't exercising and I got fat. No really, I did. I ballooned from 125 lbs to 165 lbs in 12 months. I was disgusting. I couldn't hold relationships with people and I was unreliable to friends and family. I was depressed and I was powerless to do anything about it.
When I talk to people or read conversations about those "counseling" their friends struggling with depression, I shudder at the advice. Of course it makes perfect sense to "JUST GET UP!", "Stop being so lazy.", "You just need to get out of the house.", "Just call me, talk to me! I'm here for you." But when I was there, I couldn't, I was frozen. My brain didn't work. Logic escaped me and was nowhere to be found. I was truly powerless to change my situation.
Depression is the most powerful force I've ever faced in my life. It took away the incessant drive and passion I was so used living with in my 20's. It stripped me of confidence and my arrogance (shocking IKR!). My clear-minded focus on the grand purpose of my life was gone. I bottomed out.
4 people stuck by my side in a measurable way: my wife Ayaka, my sister Joann, my aunt Shirley, and my cousin Jeremy. They were present. They didn't tell me what to do. No advice was given, as if words would have had any affect on me anyways. They just stayed with me. Some of them were right here with me everyday. Nothing special, just present. "Midnight McDonald's run, let's go.", "I'm coming to hangout during your lunch break.", "We are going out tonight.", "I'll wait." Somehow through their commitment to me and their patient, non-judgmental, gracious attachment to me I pulled through and started to put the pieces back together after 18 months.
But what I really wanted to share is that depression still haunts me today. There are many days where I don't even leave the surface area of my bed until 5pm in the afternoon. It's terrible. (I actually think I could do this NASA study where you lie in bed for 70 days straight) There are days I don't eat until 6pm out of laziness, just plain blah-ness until somebody else is eating. Purpose isn't always clear, motivation lacks, and logic escapes my actions.
The residual effects of that time of my life are still with me today and I'm not sure it will ever leave. So I'm slowly rebuilding the constructs of purpose in my life. Can I ever live with the raw, pure, passion I once did and so fondly look back upon? Or am I fulfilled the cynical, doubting, risk-averse, bet-hedging old man mentality I criticized when I was young? I haven't found the clarity I search for, but I do sense some maturity from this journey.
This blog post doesn't end well or offer any answers or solutions, but I hope it starts a dialogue. I am open to discussing all this junk of my past and hope it sheds some light to the power of depression in case there's someone close to you who might be struggling with the same issues I have.