Don't be too proud to ask for Help

[Fungus]

I wasn't going to say anything about my actual state when I felt suicidal on an open forum, but as this is so important, I have decided to.

That must have taken some guts.

 

[Pot noodles for everyone]

When I'm feeling glum, this cheers me up.

 

[Pot noodles for everyone]

If you click on the picture you'll see why.

sorry, but I feel we need to turn those frowns upside down.

 

[Brovion]

I wasn't going to say anything about my actual state when I felt suicidal on an open forum, but as this is so important, I have decided to. I will try and keep this short.

My life has been blighted by depression since my school days. I have never been able to put my finger on the reason for this. Right through my teenage years, I was in and out of depression, but apart from one occasion I declined any medication for the illness. I worked from the day I left school, so I had money, done ok with girlfriends, had great mates and of course through my teenage years the Albion had its best ever spell. Anyway fast forwarding to meeting my future wife, we were very happy and things moved on. We went on to have three lovely children. All through this I was in and out of spells of either mild or deep bouts of depression. But I had long spells of feeling what I thought was normal, so thought I was coming through this awful illness. Then at the age of 34 I started feeling tired and run down, but soldiered on with my job and being a husband and father. But the tiredness got worse and I went to the doctor and was put on a high dose of Prozac. My mood lifted, but the tiredness continued and then I was suddenly feeling pains in my legs and across my shoulders. To cut a long story shorter, this was the start of my disability. Within three short years I had gone from working for Brighton and Hove council as a dustman and chief earner for the family, to a disabled person who went from a walking stick to a wheelchair within three years. Obviously this had a very detrimental affect on my depression, which came back with a vengeance. On the outside I thought I was being myself and tried to be happy around loved ones. But in reality I was a snappy moody bastard. I went through the why me stage, and the I'm feeling so sorry for myself stage, which I thought was very hard to deal with. But after a year or so, the reality of the situation hit me like an express train. I felt useless as a husband, as a Father, as friend and as a man I suppose. Things started going through my mind about how much of a burden I was on my family. I just couldn't see that they still loved me. All I could think is I am useless and will become more and more so. My wife started seeming more like my nurse, and my kids more like my helpers. In the end I was so so low, I didn't think life was worth living (a totally selfish feeling I know) I had been contemplating how to end things, but nothing came of it, until one night I was lying in pain and feeling surprisingly numb, I struggled out of bed and actually got partially dressed, and made my way towards our front door. I didn't have a clue where I was going or what I was doing, I only knew that this was to be the last time I went through that door. What happened next was unbelievable, almost a sign even though I don't really believe in all that. But as my hand was on the door latch, my youngest daughter aged 11 at the time, coughed in her sleep and I said bye bye darling. Then I found myself on the floor sobbing my heart out. I don't remember falling down or anything, just thinking how could I do this to my children? My wife insisted I went to the doctors, who the referred me to the mental health team. The rest of that week was just a haze. I was put on sedatives to I assume stop me from be able to do anything stupid to myself. I can write and write about my feelings, but I expect you are bored already. I am sitting here in floods of tears and have taken over an hour to write this. But you can, and will come out the other side feeling stronger and grateful that you are alive. I still have serious bouts of depression and am on the highest dose of medication I can be on, but now I know, I have an extremely loving family and circle of friends to lean on when I need too.
I am one of the lucky ones, as I am still here to tell my tale. To those of you who are not rest peacefully now forever.

Not bored at all and I think you're quite brave to write it on an open forum and open yourself up to abuse, or what might be worse: well-meaning but 'bad' advice. One of the things though with NSC is you do tend to think you 'know' people with whom you have only ever conversed online and you wish them all the best the same as you would your 'real life' (for want of a better term) friends and family.

I hope just typing it out on here helped a bit, all the best.

 

[zfleas]

i guess the difference is that feeling down because you've lost a close friend is a perfectly normal reaction to something horrible

personally i found that my emotions were completely out of sync.........for example when my gran died i felt absolutely no emotion about it whatsoever........however the day before she died i burst into tears because i burnt my toast!

it's hard to describe because i'm a different person now, and i've tried to block out those awful years from my memory as much as possible.......but i sometimes found it impossible to get out of bed.......i wanted to, but my head was basically telling me "whats the point? you haven't got anything to do if you get out of bed........so don't".....that cycle is so hard to snap out of.

you also take no pleasure in doing anything........my friends would try and get me to go out with them, but i just didn't want to even though i knew i'd probably enjoy it

because i wasn't doing anything i'd take no pride in my appearance at all........now, i'm a good looking guy but i'll tell you know i looked like shit most of the time

it's very hard to snap out of, medication will help a bit but i found therapy most effective, as it helped me to be able to talk about my problems more

this is just from a personal viewpoint......the thing about mental illness is that it effects people in different ways, so every case is unique

Thanks, thats helped me understand alot, pleased to hear your better now

 

[zfleas]

I wasn't going to say anything about my actual state when I felt suicidal on an open forum, but as this is so important, I have decided to. I will try and keep this short.

My life has been blighted by depression since my school days. I have never been able to put my finger on the reason for this. Right through my teenage years, I was in and out of depression, but apart from one occasion I declined any medication for the illness. I worked from the day I left school, so I had money, done ok with girlfriends, had great mates and of course through my teenage years the Albion had its best ever spell. Anyway fast forwarding to meeting my future wife, we were very happy and things moved on. We went on to have three lovely children. All through this I was in and out of spells of either mild or deep bouts of depression. But I had long spells of feeling what I thought was normal, so thought I was coming through this awful illness. Then at the age of 34 I started feeling tired and run down, but soldiered on with my job and being a husband and father. But the tiredness got worse and I went to the doctor and was put on a high dose of Prozac. My mood lifted, but the tiredness continued and then I was suddenly feeling pains in my legs and across my shoulders. To cut a long story shorter, this was the start of my disability. Within three short years I had gone from working for Brighton and Hove council as a dustman and chief earner for the family, to a disabled person who went from a walking stick to a wheelchair within three years. Obviously this had a very detrimental affect on my depression, which came back with a vengeance. On the outside I thought I was being myself and tried to be happy around loved ones. But in reality I was a snappy moody bastard. I went through the why me stage, and the I'm feeling so sorry for myself stage, which I thought was very hard to deal with. But after a year or so, the reality of the situation hit me like an express train. I felt useless as a husband, as a Father, as friend and as a man I suppose. Things started going through my mind about how much of a burden I was on my family. I just couldn't see that they still loved me. All I could think is I am useless and will become more and more so. My wife started seeming more like my nurse, and my kids more like my helpers. In the end I was so so low, I didn't think life was worth living (a totally selfish feeling I know) I had been contemplating how to end things, but nothing came of it, until one night I was lying in pain and feeling surprisingly numb, I struggled out of bed and actually got partially dressed, and made my way towards our front door. I didn't have a clue where I was going or what I was doing, I only knew that this was to be the last time I went through that door. What happened next was unbelievable, almost a sign even though I don't really believe in all that. But as my hand was on the door latch, my youngest daughter aged 11 at the time, coughed in her sleep and I said bye bye darling. Then I found myself on the floor sobbing my heart out. I don't remember falling down or anything, just thinking how could I do this to my children? My wife insisted I went to the doctors, who the referred me to the mental health team. The rest of that week was just a haze. I was put on sedatives to I assume stop me from be able to do anything stupid to myself. I can write and write about my feelings, but I expect you are bored already. I am sitting here in floods of tears and have taken over an hour to write this. But you can, and will come out the other side feeling stronger and grateful that you are alive. I still have serious bouts of depression and am on the highest dose of medication I can be on, but now I know, I have an extremely loving family and circle of friends to lean on when I need too.
I am one of the lucky ones, as I am still here to tell my tale. To those of you who are not rest peacefully now forever.

Can I say thats one of the bravest things I've seen. Im pleased you've made it through and im sure no one wishes nothing but the best of you for the future. Reading that has made me understand how difficult mental illness must be, as I've never had it I cant say I will ever truly know unless I do get it.

All the best Steve, so much respect for you for writing that

 

[public school boy]

I find it quite incredible how people have been able to open up to others what are very personal and painful episodes of their lives. Being able to be honest shows real courage and strength of character. It NEVER helps to store up or try and lock away problems as they WILL only come back.

 

[Wexford Gull]

Respect and thanks to you all. Having read this thread too many thing's sound familiar and have convinced me to take my doctor (think's i have a depression problem) seriously and go back to have a chat with him.

Thanks again.

 

[Uncle Spielberg]

There are some very brave people on here , brave to speak out. Depression is like a cancer of the mind and soul. It slowly but surely eats your insides out until you are merely a shell just going through the motions of life, barely eeking out an existance. The most beautiful sunset will be seen with eyes that see everything in a shade of grey. I have felt like this many times, recently in particular, but have suffered bouts all my life. All one can do is hope you can come out the other end. Good luck to anyone who has been inflicted with this terrible illness.

 

[Uncle Spielberg]

I wasn't going to say anything about my actual state when I felt suicidal on an open forum, but as this is so important, I have decided to. I will try and keep this short.

My life has been blighted by depression since my school days. I have never been able to put my finger on the reason for this. Right through my teenage years, I was in and out of depression, but apart from one occasion I declined any medication for the illness. I worked from the day I left school, so I had money, done ok with girlfriends, had great mates and of course through my teenage years the Albion had its best ever spell. Anyway fast forwarding to meeting my future wife, we were very happy and things moved on. We went on to have three lovely children. All through this I was in and out of spells of either mild or deep bouts of depression. But I had long spells of feeling what I thought was normal, so thought I was coming through this awful illness. Then at the age of 34 I started feeling tired and run down, but soldiered on with my job and being a husband and father. But the tiredness got worse and I went to the doctor and was put on a high dose of Prozac. My mood lifted, but the tiredness continued and then I was suddenly feeling pains in my legs and across my shoulders. To cut a long story shorter, this was the start of my disability. Within three short years I had gone from working for Brighton and Hove council as a dustman and chief earner for the family, to a disabled person who went from a walking stick to a wheelchair within three years. Obviously this had a very detrimental affect on my depression, which came back with a vengeance. On the outside I thought I was being myself and tried to be happy around loved ones. But in reality I was a snappy moody bastard. I went through the why me stage, and the I'm feeling so sorry for myself stage, which I thought was very hard to deal with. But after a year or so, the reality of the situation hit me like an express train. I felt useless as a husband, as a Father, as friend and as a man I suppose. Things started going through my mind about how much of a burden I was on my family. I just couldn't see that they still loved me. All I could think is I am useless and will become more and more so. My wife started seeming more like my nurse, and my kids more like my helpers. In the end I was so so low, I didn't think life was worth living (a totally selfish feeling I know) I had been contemplating how to end things, but nothing came of it, until one night I was lying in pain and feeling surprisingly numb, I struggled out of bed and actually got partially dressed, and made my way towards our front door. I didn't have a clue where I was going or what I was doing, I only knew that this was to be the last time I went through that door. What happened next was unbelievable, almost a sign even though I don't really believe in all that. But as my hand was on the door latch, my youngest daughter aged 11 at the time, coughed in her sleep and I said bye bye darling. Then I found myself on the floor sobbing my heart out. I don't remember falling down or anything, just thinking how could I do this to my children? My wife insisted I went to the doctors, who the referred me to the mental health team. The rest of that week was just a haze. I was put on sedatives to I assume stop me from be able to do anything stupid to myself. I can write and write about my feelings, but I expect you are bored already. I am sitting here in floods of tears and have taken over an hour to write this. But you can, and will come out the other side feeling stronger and grateful that you are alive. I still have serious bouts of depression and am on the highest dose of medication I can be on, but now I know, I have an extremely loving family and circle of friends to lean on when I need too.
I am one of the lucky ones, as I am still here to tell my tale. To those of you who are not rest peacefully now forever.

That is one of the bravest posts ever on NSC. You have extreme courage. I hope things get better.

 

[Nibble]

Life is a very short dream between two very long sleeps

Surely you would be dreaming in your sleep not inbetween.

 

[Durlston]

My own battle with depression has been mainly through drug addiction which has often overtaken everything else in my life at times. I've never had to steal to fund my habits but when something makes you feel better about yourself and have that self-confidence then I always wanted to keep going back to using alcohol, ecstasy, cocaine, cannabis and diazepam, time and time again and they've created massive mental health issues. Luckily, I've had support from Addaction but my key worker summed me up in one word and that I was vulnerable. I can't disagree with that.

 

[Seagull Steve]

Not bored at all and I think you're quite brave to write it on an open forum and open yourself up to abuse, or what might be worse: well-meaning but 'bad' advice. One of the things though with NSC is you do tend to think you 'know' people with whom you have only ever conversed online and you wish them all the best the same as you would your 'real life' (for want of a better term) friends and family.

I hope just typing it out on here helped a bit, all the best.

Can I say thats one of the bravest things I've seen. Im pleased you've made it through and im sure no one wishes nothing but the best of you for the future. Reading that has made me understand how difficult mental illness must be, as I've never had it I cant say I will ever truly know unless I do get it.

All the best Steve, so much respect for you for writing that

That is one of the bravest posts ever on NSC. You have extreme courage. I hope things get better.

Thanks guys, but no brave is not the right word at all. I just hope that if there are people reading this, they know there are people like me to talk to if they wish.

PublicSchoolBoy deserves the credit for opening a thread like this. It is imperative that people know that they can get help. If this thread or my story gets just one person to go to their GP, then I consider it a success. You have to know that you are not alone, and talking can help tremendously. I know we don't know if depression played a part in the tragic passing of Gary Speed, but it seems to have brought the illness to the fore. I know I keep repeating myself, but talk talk and talk some more. I can't do much to help, that is for the health care professionals to take care of, but I will happily talk to people through PM or even meet for a coffee or a beer. If anyone does want a chat, you can be sure I would never tell anyone else that we were talking, nevermind what has been said. Anyway I have said enough.

 

[Durlston]

You're a top man, Seagull Steve.

Hope you continue to get better mate.

 

[Adam_Banana20]

I wasn't going to say anything about my actual state when I felt suicidal on an open forum, but as this is so important, I have decided to. I will try and keep this short.

My life has been blighted by depression since my school days. I have never been able to put my finger on the reason for this. Right through my teenage years, I was in and out of depression, but apart from one occasion I declined any medication for the illness. I worked from the day I left school, so I had money, done ok with girlfriends, had great mates and of course through my teenage years the Albion had its best ever spell. Anyway fast forwarding to meeting my future wife, we were very happy and things moved on. We went on to have three lovely children. All through this I was in and out of spells of either mild or deep bouts of depression. But I had long spells of feeling what I thought was normal, so thought I was coming through this awful illness. Then at the age of 34 I started feeling tired and run down, but soldiered on with my job and being a husband and father. But the tiredness got worse and I went to the doctor and was put on a high dose of Prozac. My mood lifted, but the tiredness continued and then I was suddenly feeling pains in my legs and across my shoulders. To cut a long story shorter, this was the start of my disability. Within three short years I had gone from working for Brighton and Hove council as a dustman and chief earner for the family, to a disabled person who went from a walking stick to a wheelchair within three years. Obviously this had a very detrimental affect on my depression, which came back with a vengeance. On the outside I thought I was being myself and tried to be happy around loved ones. But in reality I was a snappy moody bastard. I went through the why me stage, and the I'm feeling so sorry for myself stage, which I thought was very hard to deal with. But after a year or so, the reality of the situation hit me like an express train. I felt useless as a husband, as a Father, as friend and as a man I suppose. Things started going through my mind about how much of a burden I was on my family. I just couldn't see that they still loved me. All I could think is I am useless and will become more and more so. My wife started seeming more like my nurse, and my kids more like my helpers. In the end I was so so low, I didn't think life was worth living (a totally selfish feeling I know) I had been contemplating how to end things, but nothing came of it, until one night I was lying in pain and feeling surprisingly numb, I struggled out of bed and actually got partially dressed, and made my way towards our front door. I didn't have a clue where I was going or what I was doing, I only knew that this was to be the last time I went through that door. What happened next was unbelievable, almost a sign even though I don't really believe in all that. But as my hand was on the door latch, my youngest daughter aged 11 at the time, coughed in her sleep and I said bye bye darling. Then I found myself on the floor sobbing my heart out. I don't remember falling down or anything, just thinking how could I do this to my children? My wife insisted I went to the doctors, who the referred me to the mental health team. The rest of that week was just a haze. I was put on sedatives to I assume stop me from be able to do anything stupid to myself. I can write and write about my feelings, but I expect you are bored already. I am sitting here in floods of tears and have taken over an hour to write this. But you can, and will come out the other side feeling stronger and grateful that you are alive. I still have serious bouts of depression and am on the highest dose of medication I can be on, but now I know, I have an extremely loving family and circle of friends to lean on when I need too.
I am one of the lucky ones, as I am still here to tell my tale. To those of you who are not rest peacefully now forever.