In the depth of the darkness

I have just survived the most violent depressive episode that I have had in a long time. Following my sleepless night and in spite of the fact that I slept well for the nights that followed, I started slipping into a dark hole where the pain, physical, mental, emotional, was so unbearable that I became suicidal - all I could think of was that I wanted out of it and the force with which my darkest self-anihilation thoughts came bombarding me scared me because I started to feel that I might not be able to resist them for much longer.

And so I did what I instinctively and automtically do in such circumstances, I fought hard with all my might and kept everything thightly locked up inside for fear of hurting anybody else, starting with my husband. I kept so much inside of me that it built up and up and I eventually found that crying wasn't enough to release the pressure and I had to scream as loud as I could.  On that particular day my husband who usually works from home was away at his head office all day so I could make a lot of noise without alerting anybody. 

That day was absolute hell and I thought of calling my medical team for help but I could not even bring myself to pick up the phone. By the time my husband came home in the evening I had locked everything inside again and I said nothing of the hellish day I had had.

The next few days, I started feeling suicidal again and I eventually had to tell my husband about it because I felt choked and I could not pretend everything was OK any more. I broke down and told him all that had happened and was still happening and he was his wonderful understanding supportive self. I saw straight away that the mere fact of talking about the torment made me feel better and we agreed that he would check up on me at regular intervals throughout the day by asking "how are you coping right now". This helped enormously but I battled within myself with the strong desire to let go of the fight completely and be hospitalised, and the equally strong panicky desire NOT to go into hospital

Then my best friend and neighbour, who sensed that something was wrong, came over to see me late afternoon when my husband was on a long conference call in his office. She sat with me for over an hour, holding my hand and giving me tissues as I broke down and told her what had been going on. She was wonderfull and, once I had stopped crying, she suggested that I needed a 'plan of action' in order to help me go from where I was to my next ECT (electro-convulsive therapy) nine days ahead.  This plan essentially was there to remind me that I had a lot of support available to me and she made me promise on my son's life that I would ask the people it listed for help as soon as I needed it. The names of the people in question (including her own)  are written large on a piece of paper that I stuck on my dresser in our living room so that I can see them every minute of every day.

And I kept my promise. The next morning when I felt tormented by my suicidal thoughts again I called my CPN (Community Psychiatric Nurse) who then contacted my MHSW (Mental Health Support Worker) and he came over within the hour to sit with me and listen to my agonising woes. He was with me for an hour and an half and by the time he left I was feeling much better.  In the afternoon I contacted my friend to keep in touch as promised and let her know how I was feeling. By then I was at level 3 on the Scale of 1 to 10 - 3 being my 'coping level', so not feeling wonderful for coping OK.

I have managed to stay at coping level since, which is a great improvement on the suicidal situation of level 1, and I genuinely FEEL I am not alone and I have a wonderful Support Team to help me.

That team was always there so why did I not seek its help sooner? There is a lot that is truly incomprehensible about deep depression and I don't really know the answer to my question. Why is it that when I get that ill I hold the pain thightly locked inside instead of seeking relief where it is available?  One answer is that depression feels like such a monster that I want to protect those that I care about from its attacks - it feels corrosive and contagious.

It's so easy to say 'seek help if you are not well' but it is so very hard to put it into practice ...  It takes a good friend who knows you well to remind you of who you are, even in the eye of the storm, and to come up with a plan because she knows that you are by nature a planner and an organiser.  Thank God for such a friend :0)