Beating Depression

When I was diagnosed with depression in 1989 I laughed at my Psychiatrist. Because I had been sexually abused as a child, I had gone to her, after years of searching for other ways to deal with the issues I had in relationships with men. And here she was, after just a couple of sessions,  telling me that I was clinically depressed and suggesting I go into hospital for intensive therapy and anti-depressants!

If it were not that I respected her immensely, I would have believed that she was a 'quack' trying to tie me into a life of therapy, expensive drugs and long-term hospital care. (Trust issues). In fact I am glad I did not voice this thought, or she would probably have thought me insane and had me committed.

Back then I had the sort of personality that if you had said "This is black" I would have to say (or think) "No, it's white". (Argumentative) So when I was told "You are depressed", my immediate reaction was "No, I don't think so". (Had to be right)

Like my high physical pain tolerance, I apparently also have what is known as extremely high 'Negativity Control’. Which is a euphemism for a person 'who lives in la-la land', or who'sees the world through rose-coloured glasses' or who are fondly - but patronisingly - called 'the eternal optimist'. Just a few of the expressions used for people who have a way of denying reality and their unhappiness, and who pretend they are alright. It's just as well I had this ability really or I probably would not be here today writing this. It's not a band-aid; it’s a suit of armour.

I was a superb actress, so good in fact I fooled most people and mostly fooled myself. However it was the sudden, overwhelming feelings of loneliness and a deep unutterable sadness that would come crashing down upon me when no-one was around to see my 'act', that alerted me to the fact that all was not as it seemed. When these feelings overcame me, I would feel sorry for myself for a moment, let myself cry for a minute or two and then tell myself off for being a woos and cry-baby, and to pull myself together.

Phycology calls this ‘Repression’. Repression of feelings is the mental cauterising of emotional pain. The problem is that if we don't express our feelings, we lose the capacity to fully feel anything, and we lose touch with empathy for others. We become a shell of a person. And worse still, however much we deny them; they are always waiting in the shadows, hanging over our heads like a Damocles Sword, ready to pierce our hearts at any moment.  These unexpressed feelings can also manifest in addictions, obsessions and sickness.

How right phycology was! In 2001 I contracted a virus and became very ill, to the extent that I could hardly walk, eat, or sleep. I was told this condition was incurable and that I would have to suffer it for the rest of my life.

At this news, and for the first time in my life, I felt depressed. Perhaps because of my illness, I had no defences left to protect me from the emotional pain I had been suffering yet denying all my life. The feeling of depression was overwhelming. I prayed every night for death to come and release me from both this agonising physical pain and the unbearable emotional holocaust it had unleashed. It did not. I was suicidal. For months not a day went by  where I did not contemplate killing myself. I had all the right drugs, narcotic painkillers... The only thing that stopped me was the thought of how my children and grandchildren would react. Thank goodness for children!

Eight years on I am still very much alive and am no longer depressed. I have realised that most depression is not an illness in itself. It is fashioned from a set of circumstances and conditions that happen when we are young, and it is our response to them that create the ‘feelings that create depression’. 

It probably seems too simple when said like that, but having rid myself of the negative feelings attached to the circumstances and traumas of my childhood, I am totally free of the feelings of depression. I did not take anti-depressants or go into hospital, or have therapy to achieve this remarkable shift in my emotions. They gradually disappeared as I removed the negative beliefs attached to them. I survived and overcame depression.

Having worked with many people suffering from depression and watching them too emerge from the darkness and pain,  I realise more and more that we can overcome and survive depression without resorting to conventional treatment and anesthetising our already suppressed and sublimated feelings. And you can too.

I think my Psychiatrist would be very proud of the fact that I refused to accept the conventional path of treatment and found an alternative ‘path less travelled’ in my pursuit of emotional healing. Unfortunately I cannot tell her of my exciting journey as she died of Lupus, aged 54. She was such a lovely person.

Annie Moyes - August 2008