A story of depression and anxiety

I never would have guessed that a petite, fair skinned, red-haired woman would be the instrument to bring me crashing to my knees, dismantling my confidence and reverting me from a grown ass man back to a young, scared little boy. Of course nobody likely expected David to defeat Goliath either.

In all fairness, I can’t put all the blame solely on this one woman, no matter how judgmental and manipulative she may be. Fact is I have spent many years running from the wounds of abuse, bullying, fear and my own poor decisions because of them. This woman just happened to be the proverbial “straw that broke the camel’s back”.

Allow me to clarify that this is not a love story gone sour. Hell a little horizontal mambo would have at least made a small fraction of the last bit of torment worthwhile. Rather this is a story of a man, who after 40 plus years of suppressing negative emotions and beliefs, replacing them with a search for superficial affirmation, finally ran smack dab into an abyss of anxiety and depression. To make things worse, I don’t even have a cool story about when it struck. Truth is I was sitting on the crapper when I just broke down. There I was with my pants down around my ankles, sobbing like a baby.

It was at that moment, the last bit of personal power I may have held on to was relinquished. The months to follow would be filled with panic attacks, teeth gritting anxiety and major depressive episodes. I found myself completely broken and considering suicide as an way out. I prayed to the Lord, if you don’t want me to end my own life then show me a way out. He obliged and I found myself locked up in a behavioral health facility.

Oddly enough when I arrived at the facility I was overcome with a sense of relief. Despite the strict and structured environment, I found inner peace. I felt safe from the outside world and perhaps more importantly myself. My eyes were opened as I began to meet people and make new friends. My heart cried when I heard their stories. For the first time in my life, I no longer felt alone in the pain.

For years whenever I would have episodes of anxiety or depression, I would simply tell myself to man up and get tougher. I suppose I was afraid of the stigma and labels that would be attached to me if I admitted I was suffering.

This storm though was unlike that any other storm in my life. There was no “manning up” or “getting tougher” this time around. The Lord had stripped me bare ass naked in front of the classroom (figuratively speaking) and I would have no choice but to be 100% vulnerable and honest with myself. I wasn’t OK but that was OK.

Today, I am still healing. It’s going to take some time to rebuild the pieces of me that I have lost. As tough as this storm has been to weather, I have realized a few things. First of all, I am not powerless. I have the power of choice. I decide to stand up and fight back against depression and anxiety. Secondly, my trials and tribulations throughout the years give me a voice. I get to tell my story and God willing my story will help others. Lastly, I am not alone. This world is full of brokenness and it’s full of people, all of which are broken in their own way, who want to help.

Be vulnerable. Embrace the storm. Reclaim your power.