Depression Doesn't Win

"There’s nothing I’d rather do right now than drop dead." 

That’s been a sincere feeling of mine far too many times, or at least more than I am comfortable admitting. I often hate myself, hate my existence, and loathe the idea of waking up in the morning. Sometimes, I am convinced that the best thing about life is that it eventually ends. That life seems so glorious and everlasting, but the only truth amongst us all is that one-day, our flesh will cease to exist. I am fascinated with death. 

I’ve struggled with depressive moments for a while now. Some days/weeks/months are easier than others. Right now, I am fortunate enough to have learned a variety of ways throughout the years to help manage my depressive states. I am not writing this to be a hero. I am not. I am not writing this to be the first to speak so openly about such a prevalent problem, because I am not. Many people struggle with depression and anxiety. I am not special. I am not an anomaly. I am one of many. 

I am writing this right now first and foremost for myself. I desperately need to be reminded of the tips, tools and structures I have put in place to help me manage. I am posting this out of hope that someone who often finds themselves in my shoes reads through these words, and that they find some level of motivation to keep fighting and keep living, even if it’s only for today. 

Now, I want to be amazingly clear here: depression is a disorder. People don’t choose to be depressed, just like most people who take their own lives don’t necessarily choose to commit suicide. There’s something much deeper going on in the mind, heart, brain, body and spirit that can’t be explained with a Facebook status or tweet. On top of that, depression is not merely an attack from Satan. I do not in any manner believe that prayer and scripture reading are the only answers to depression. 

Let me clarify: I believe in the power of prayer and the Holy Spirit to rid me of my depression as much as I believe in that same power to start my business. No, I cannot start and run a successful business without the hand of God, but I also can’t sit on the couch, eat cereal and play FIFA all day either. There’s a balance, and it’s one that includes spiritual and practical means of management and pursuit. This post is mostly aimed at the practical side, but I do mention the role that Christ has played in management over the past few years.

As a child, there were days when I would do nothing but sit in my room and stare out the window. Occasionally, in between looking out at the passing cars and the skies, I would scribble down notes in my journal. Some of those notes would be morbid, other notes were laden with profanity, and sometimes I would write about sports. I would look, and I would write. That’s all I could muster up the emotional energy for. I first thought about killing myself when I was ten years old. The details of this occasion are outlined in my book (A Memoir: on Love & Life) so I won’t go into detail about this. From it, I learned how to talk through my emotions and process my anger. I found different techniques to help me through my times of loneliness. I discovered a myriad of ways to continue to motivate myself, even when a part of me felt like I didn’t want to live. 

People who don’t struggle with depression can have a hard time relating to it or understanding it. Let me assure you: few individuals who are actually struggling with depression want you to know they go through it. We already feel alone, weak and vulnerable, and the last thing we want to do is invite someone into our space that doesn’t have the slightest idea what we’re going through or how we’re feeling.

I would sit in the middle of my room in the middle of the night, sobbing, asking myself “Why am I sad? Why do I want to die?” As time went on and I learned more, it became more apparent to me: being sad for “no reason” is a part of having depression. 

Granted, there are times when some of my more vulnerable moments are brought on because of school, work, family or stress. But there are countless other times when things in life seem to be good, and yet, and I would think to myself: Lord, I will not take my own life, but if for some reason I die right now, I will not be upset. 

That’s merely a backdrop. I can’t give you an entire understanding of what it’s like to deal with this, because I honestly believe I could put that in a book. Hopefully what I have offered suffices. Now, how do I manage it? 

For starters, my depression is a direct explanation of why I love so hard. You take that how you wish. It’s why it hurts when people I haven’t seen in a while can’t find anything else to say to me but “hey stranger.” As if our cell phones don’t work both ways, and as if I didn’t call you a few weeks ago, you picked up and told me you had to call me back, and never did. I don’t mind it, you have a life to live, but please refrain from calling me a bad friend in so many ways. I resent that. I strive to be a great friend because loving hard is one way I manage. I try to turn pain and heartache into substance for loving, so when I offer that love, and it isn’t reciprocated even half way, it hurts, and it cuts rather deeply. 

Another way I manage is through exercise. During my high school years, I didn’t struggle much because football was such an amazing outlet. It gave me the physical contact I needed. It gave me friends. It gave me a goal and objective to strive and live for each day. It was a saving grace. When that got taken away, I didn’t know what to do for a while. I joined a lot of clubs and organizations during college, but those were more self-medicating activities than anything else. The first year of law school was one of the toughest years of my life, and I did a poor job of managing. I was often intoxicated from Thursday night until Sunday morning, just in time to watch football all day. It worked for me, at least I thought: I was entrenched in school work from Monday until Thursday evening, intoxicated from Thursday evening until Sunday morning, and lived my life through football players on Sunday. It seemed like a good strategy, until it wasn’t. I eventually got back in church, but I also started lifting weights and running miles again. This was a godsend. 

I don’t know the science behind exercise or what it does to your brain, but it has been monumental in giving me something to consistently look forward to; something to challenge myself. I’ll often run four or five miles a day and pretend I’m playing for Arsenal in a London Derby. Is it weird? Maybe. Does it work for me? Absolutely. It not only gives me more energy and puts me in a better mood, but it’s something to help channel my energy into. If I’m sad, I’ll run it out. If I’m angry, I’ll take it out on the barbell. 

When managing, it’s also important to keep close with the ones you love. I went back to seeing a therapist, and she encouraged me to do a lot of things, the main one being go home to Atlanta more often. If you know, I love my family. Nothing else matters more. Not being around them for extended periods of time can be frustrating and saddening. I don’t want anyone feeling like they have to walk on egg shells around me or be on their best behavior, because all that will do is tick me off. I’m still a man, an imperfect man at that, and all of life’s ills cannot be attributed to depression. My family and friends get that. They know when I’m just being a jerk and need to be corrected, but they also know when I’m going through a tough time. It’s not something I can really coach anyone up on, all I can really do is let you know about the struggle, and pray you extend me grace as we learn and work through things together. 

One other key way I manage is through my faith, which can be tricky sometimes. I like to consider myself an intellectual, and one of the things I do too much of when I am down is think. Sometimes I’ll think that I’d be better off if there were no God, because then all of life’s ills are simply the product of luck, a mere probability.

Whenever I think like this, I am quickly snapped back to reality. I believe in an afterlife. I believe in the redemptive power of the blood of Jesus Christ, and that belief helps pull me out the dun drums. It’s like God demonstrates his love for us in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. (Romans 5:8). Christ died for me: knowing I would curse out people who cut me off; knowing I would be prideful, jealous and enviousness. That’s a pretty huge deal. I hold onto that, and I hold on to the all encompassing feeling of love, freedom and redemption I have in Jesus, and then I am even more motivated to want to live happily and freely, all in an effort to tell other people about this Jesus. 

This post is long enough. If you’re going through the struggle, know that you’re not alone. I’m here, whenever you may need someone. I love you.