Thriving with Anxiety and Depressive Disorders
As we near the end of Mental Health Awareness Month, I want to extend my deepest thanks to those with the bravery to share the stories of their struggles with neurodiversity. As in every past year, I’ve sat on the sidelines of the mental health discussion. However, the truth is that I’ve wrestled with a major depressive disorder and anxiety disorder all my life. I never wanted to “out” my conditions over concern about others seeing them as a weakness, making assumptions about my capabilities, thinking I’m “fragile,” or applying other labels that are not true. So, I spent most of my life trying to hide it. This month I had a change of heart. I hope that others who hear my story know they are not alone, that conditions are often treatable, and that there’s no martyrdom in suffering silently.
The combination of my disorders is no picnic, and it has made some periods of my life miserable. But it’s something I’ve experienced for as long as I can remember, so to me it’s just part of everyday living. It doesn’t define me, it’s not an excuse for anything, and I try not to let it hold me back from things I want to do. I’m the same person I’ve always been. The way I see my condition is simple: I’m a generally happy, humorous, and productive person with frustrating brain chemistry.
My wiring may be unusual, but my ability to obsess and ruminate over things can serve as a strength, too. For example, I can usually absorb information quickly, I love to be creative, and I think through scenarios carefully to explore different outcomes. My clients often benefitted from what we jokingly referred to as “my paranoia on their behalf.” It kept us out of hot water occasionally. Although I usually overthought things and over-prepared for extremely unlikely possibilities. My brain often chose 3 am as a good time to do it, and I could never shut it off.
Around 20 years ago, a combination of things led my disorders to take hold with such a grip that it scared me. I was “down in a black hole,” as some describe it. It’s not the kind of thing I can just “snap out of.” If the answer were that simple, I would have licked depression years ago, and for good! It just doesn’t work that way. As with past depressive episodes in my life, I focused as hard as I could on all the things I love about life and all the things I want to see, do, and experience. But it can be exceptionally difficult to find a ladder when alone in a dark hole. Sometimes it took several days to emerge from the fog, although I never missed a day of work because of it. The distraction and focus on something else could be helpful.
For many years, I resisted the idea of taking medications to treat my mental conditions. I’m not sure why. I guess it was having to admit to myself that my brain was dysfunctional somehow. But I finally gave in when I felt so miserable that I wasn’t sure I could stand it anymore. As a friend of mine said, “You’d get a cast on your arm if it were broken, right? You’d take insulin if it were needed to manage diabetes, right? Well, think of medications for mental conditions as you’d think of insulin. You’re simply righting a chemical imbalance you have no control over. So do it!” She was right, and I did.
A recommendation from another friend led me to a psychiatrist I liked. I’d been through plenty of counseling previously, but in my unique situation, it didn’t help — although it’s an excellent approach for many others. I needed a medical doctor who specialized in scenarios like mine and who could recommend medication to alleviate the symptoms I endured.
After an hour of conversation that helped the doctor understand what I was dealing with, I got my first prescription. Unfortunately, some great medications take several weeks before their full efficacy is realized. That means there were plenty of days early on when the pills did not seem to help. Being patient was a little painful, but I wanted to feel better, and the road ahead of me was obvious. I needed to stick with the plan my doctor outlined.
Three main neurotransmitters regulate mood, so different medications can pull different levers. My doctor explained that sometimes nudging one of them works, and sometimes a couple of neurotransmitters need pharmaceutical encouragement to do the jobs they should do naturally.
During that time, I became quite the connoisseur of anti-depressants. Unfortunately, there’s no shortcut to finding the right medication. Everyone’s chemistry is different, so what works for me might not work for others. When one medication had side effects, I told my doctor I wanted to try something else. So, I tried another. And then another. I must have tried a dozen medications under my doctor’s supervision over two years. I took each medication without fail as prescribed and gave each a fair chance over several weeks of use. After all that trial and error, we found a perfect combination that keeps my symptoms at bay without unpleasant side effects. The reward was far, far better than I imagined it could be. I had all the benefits with very little unwanted impact.
Some people think of antidepressants as “happy pills.” That’s not how they work or feel. They have never made me happy. They do not change my underlying personality either. They just shave off the depressive and anxious lows to prevent me from sliding into the black hole again. Previously I’d tried naturopathic remedies, vitamins, acupuncture, acupressure, and anything else I could think of. But all of those things failed to help me. I needed the assistance of modern chemistry.
I’ve taken the same medications for many years now, and they remain extremely effective. To me, my doctor and my prescriptions were like a miracle. I remember walking down the street one day and thinking I feel mentally “bulletproof.” By that, I simply mean that I was enjoying the walk rather than obsessing over something I could not control or treading carefully in my interaction with others to avoid an anxiety spike.
My medications have helped me profoundly. They worked so well that I no longer think about them. Taking them is just part of my morning routine, like brushing my teeth. They are just there in the background, quietly doing their jobs, helping me enjoy life to its fullest, and reaching my full potential. There’s no cure for my mental conditions, but they can be managed. It’s amazing what one can accomplish without fear and anxiety’s burdens.
Since then, I’ve had an opportunity to cross many things off my bucket list, like hang gliding, scuba, public speaking, and traveling to many other countries. I’d always wanted to try them, but anxiety often became a barrier. Now, I just look forward to checking many more fun things off my list.
I’m lucky in many ways. So many people out there suffer untreated neurodiversity that’s far more disruptive than mine. My disorders can be hidden, and that’s not always possible for people who face physical or mental challenges. I also could access mental care readily.
My employers welcomed me and my brain over the years, and they got a lot of value back in return. I also had many managers who coached me to become more effective in my job roles. Although they did not know about my mind’s quirks, the lessons I learned from them were often extremely valuable.
I’ve also had a close circle of friends and family members who know how my brain sometimes fights me. They knew my hot buttons, helped me mitigate them when necessary, and helped me process the experiences when circumstances inadvertently pushed one. They were always patient with me, and I don’t know if I could have gotten through some overly-depressive and anxious times without them. You know who you are; I love you, and thank you for your support.
A long time ago a friend said to me, “You can’t fix a screwdriver with a screwdriver.” I laughed out loud because it’s a hilarious and perfect analogy for trying to “think” my way out of a depressive or anxious state. It’s a recipe for failure. Fixing my screwdriver required duct tape, a hammer, some WD40, and a couple of wrenches. There are a lot of other tools out there, and it’s important to find those that can help you.
So that’s my story. I still feel uncomfortable telling it, but it’s important to share it openly in the hope it may encourage others to seek help if they need it. I expect most people already did everything they could on their own, and maybe it’s time to try something new. I think of anxiety and depression like a creek running across dry soil. The longer the water flows, the deeper the channel becomes. The creek can grow into a river or it can be diverted and distributed to protect the land beneath and use the water more productively.
As I’ve shared my story with individuals over the years, I discovered I’m far from alone. Some of the most interesting people I know also face challenges from neurodiversity. Their wiring is atypical like mine, but that’s part of what makes them so fun to spend time with.
Estimates suggest that 280 million people experience depression, so you are in good company! If you’ve considered taking the leap of faith to work with professionals to find the appropriate treatment or counseling, please don’t wait as long as I did. My only regret is not starting with them earlier in life.
