Today is the start of something new. For over ten years (maybe closer to fifteen – it’s hard to track) I struggled/fought with depression. I was diagnosed with major depressive disorder (mdd) – there’s a reason I don’t capitalize that. Eventually I found myself in a category of depression called treatment resistant depression (trd) – also no caps. Can you guess how you end up with treatment resistant depression? Right. You treat it with things that don’t work. Lots of things. I will go into some of those things as it becomes useful to us, but for now I will just say I tried a cornucopia of pharmaceuticals, diets, counseling, and other therapies looking for relief; everything up to electroshock which I looked into but didn’t do solely because I couldn’t carve out the three months of my life it seemed to require. I wasn’t afraid of doing it; the threat of suffering significant memory loss is nothing compared to getting some relief from the relentless grinding gray misery of depression. I have a YouTube video saved somewhere of a man explaining his struggle with depression. In it he makes the statement: if you told me that eating rat dung every day would fix this, I’d do it with no hesitation. Serve it up. Yeah. True. There is an amazing discipline to feeling so bad so long. Eating nothing but meat? Did it two months straight. Go to an hour long treatment every day for six weeks in a facility an hour from your home? Did that – no t-shirt, lots of money. Take a little white pill at precisely the same minute three times a day for a year? Without fail. What should we call this? The discipline of hope?

As solution after solution failed I found my options shrinking and becoming more expensive in real terms: the loss of time and the long term risk to bodily health. And I also found a strange phenomena at work; the need to keep something out there in reserve. If you are reading this and have a loved one suffering from depression or it’s evil twin anxiety, or both – probably both because they invite one another to the party in our minds – it’s good to understand that sometimes we look like we are procrastinating but sometimes we are just keeping a potential treatment out there because if it fails it eliminates another path to a better future. It snuffs out another hope. “If this doesn’t work, I can always do that.” But it’s a very bad day when “that” was the most extreme solution out there and it didn’t work. Then where do we go? I have a friend who was diagnosed with a severe form of multiple sclerosis. It was so severe his docs recommended he go to the Mayo Clinic. He resisted going at first because of this very reason. “I mean,” he said, “if I go there and they can’t do anything for me, what’s next?” I get it.

Hope is the thing. If you’ve ever lived through a period of lost or diminished hope you’ve tasted the taste of depression. It’s like waking up with cigar mouth; everything tastes like smoke until it wears off. The thing about depression is that you wake up with it, spend all day with it, and go to bed with it, and do it again and again. And if it’s treatment resistant, no amount of Listerine and Colgate helps.

I’m writing this now because I want to give hope and help to people suffering like I did and to the people who love them and don’t know what to do. As things got more and more hopeless for me I remember googling the phrase “healed from treatment resistant depression” in any form I could come up with. Mostly what came up were sponsored ads for treatments that had already failed me. Not good. The other things were usually not encouraging; usually people telling stories of temporary relief and commiseration about how truly terrible it was to have this chronic condition. It hurt my heart and pushed me down further. I’m sure that out there somewhere there are more stories of healing and hope, but I couldn’t find one. I wondered if the people who got relief were so afraid to go near the topic again that they shut the door, locked it and threw away the key. I can’t say I blame them. If you’ve ever felt as badly as I’ve felt as long as I’ve felt it, you could be excused for leaving it as far behind as possible. But I also thought it was ominous. Wouldn’t at least one leper out of ten turn back to express the joy of being healed? So I’m writing this down and inviting you to come along and see if we can find healing and hope together. If you or a loved one is suffering from depression/anxiety I want to help you. I want to start by saying today I am healed. I am not on any medication or treatment. I have my life back without the defining words “depressed” or “mentally ill” hanging over me. I’m present in my own present. It’s possible and accessible, and no, I’m not selling anything. What I have I will give freely and cheerfully. I will continue to tell the story and give away what I have discovered as I can write it down here. I’ve discovered that public comments and exchanges usually don’t lead people to good places, so I am not going to open these posts for comments. If you want to interact with me you can email me at the contact email and I will do my best to respond promptly. I will share anything I believe that will be helpful and my wife, who has suffered through depression with me will also offer her insights. Today I am healed. You can be too.