Hey! I'm Ken. I'm a guy in his late 40's who has been fighting severe depression and anxiety for 8+ years.

I have an enemy named stigma who is not nice! My way of sticking it to him is writing my thoughts and experiences with my mental illness striving to smash down the walls he creates.

Kick back and read away. These are my experiences and mine alone. If you agree, awesome. If you disagree, awesome ... just don't fuel the stigma beast! My desire is that sharing these thoughts offers some help to those that are in the fight as well.

Monday, July 21, 2014

The Crying and Ride of My Life

In my teenage years, I had the opportunity to experience the "lovely" dating scene. The best way to describe that period of time would be to say, "It was the best of times and worst of times." I had my share of being dumped, which is far from the feeling of fun. I have also been on the other side of doing the "lets be friends talk." I had been dating a very good looking girl and things were going good ... did I mention that she was very good looking? Well, I'm not sure what came over me, but I felt that I needed to break it off because I couldn't really see any future. Crazy right? Was I growing some type of thing called "having character?" One evening we decided to go to a drive in movie and I was determined to break it off that night. The movie began while I got my courage up and began the "lets be friends" talk. She buried her head in my shoulder and cried the entire movie. Did I mention that the movie had just started? Yep she cried the entire time.

Though the crying was quite frightful, I experienced something quiet scarier when I was younger. A good friend of mine and his family invited me to go with them to an amusement park. I had been to this amusement park before and was quite excited. We had fun riding this ride and that ride and came to a ride that was new ... "The Colossus." This was a roller coaster that had you go incredibly high, followed by doing two loops and all sorts of sharp turns. Needless to say, I declined the first invitation to go. After much pushing and prodding and some comment about acting like a wimp, I gave in thinking that I had lived a good life. Standing in line I was able to watch two or three rides watching people scream, cry and other noises I wasn't familiar with. Let me just say that didn't help, but I was line and couldn't back out. The time came and of course, my friend and I were up by the front. After everyone was buckled in, the terrifying clicking noise began taking us to the top. I truly thought I was going to die. Reaching the top, the terrifying clicking noise ended and the coaster did a free fall down the track. I was swung every possible way and I think I even made noises I had never made before. After the terror began to come to an end I realized I was going to make it.

Mental illness is the most understandable, mysterious illness I have ever had. Yep, I know that I have been fighting depression, anxiety, ocd and ptsd for many years. Wait, did I say "ptsd?" Yep, that one I feel the most ashamed for because I never was in the military. Let me just say that it is very real and I hope someday, I may be strong enough to open up more about it. I do know that I fight these things daily, every hour, and at times every minute. I work on it every day striving to learn and apply coping techniques and am even adjusting my meds a tad striving to be able to handle "life." What I have fought lately, is the mentality of "aren't you better yet?" I find it interesting that people that don't reach out to me or want to be in any part of my support group, tells me that they have a friend with depression and they are "better, what's taking me so long?" Mental illness is just starting to be recognized that is something more common amongst us all, yet it is so individual. I would love to be able to see when this will end for me, but I don't have that luxury. Trying to do so gets very dark. Imagine going through hell not knowing when it will end. There is no vacation from it. Yes, the size of the jail cell may get bigger at times, but the bars are still there. How I wish I knew it would be over. Having a girl cry on my shoulder was difficult, but I knew the movie would end. Feeling complete terror on the roller coaster was not fun, but I knew it would end. For now, I can't see the end. I just focus on today and am thankful for loved ones.