It started with an email. Well, sort of…
Back in September 2011, my wife and I had just returned from a cruise to Hawaii. This was right after I started a new job. The position allowed me to work remotely so the plan was that we would wait until our daughter graduated from high school and then move to Charlotte. The last thing on my mind was a journey into the darkness of depression.
I worked in IT in the Financial Services industry. Back then, working remotely was different/not heard of often. Of course, once Covid hit, it seemed like the whole world shifted to that model.
After a few months on the job, sleep was becoming more and more difficult. I couldn’t shut my mind off. All my thoughts were geared to work. I was constantly thinking about it to the point where I was unable to be productive or get a good night’s sleep. My mind was racing. I couldn’t focus on one thing at a time. I was lost within my mind.
I had been having weeks of racing thoughts when trying to fall asleep. I tried everything I could think of to catch even a few hours. One of the methods was to try to calm my mind down by going back in my memories to happier times. This was somewhat successful but not nearly enough. I was awake more than I was sleeping at night.
Then we have the office. It was always there. Whenever I walked by the room it was calling me. Get to work. You must work. You have something to prove. You must prove that you are the best. That you know everything. That you can do it by yourself. That you don’t need to ask for help.
The Event
Then on a Friday in November at around 9am, it happened. My world changed. I lost it. This was the day of the ‘event.’
On this day, I was typing an email and was ready to hit send when I started questioning myself. Questioning what I had written. Did I have the correct information in the email? Should I start over? Should I wait to send it?
I’m stuck. I can’t send the email. I start feeling that something is not right. I grew up with that ‘suck it up and deal’ mentality. I was thinking, it’s an email, just hit send. Easier said than done. At this point I started to shake and pace. I’m like what the heck is going on? I was feeling sensations that I’d never felt before. On the analytical side, I tried breaking things down into manageable tasks. By doing this, I tried to convince myself that I wasn’t stretched too thin. That I could handle this seemingly meaningless task. Come on, it’s just an email. Send it and move on with your day.
It was too late. The battle of send/don’t send raged to the point where I lost control. At the time, I didn’t know what was happening. I always controlled my emotions, held them in check. Until now. I wound up finding my wife in the kitchen grabbing a cup of coffee. I was still shaking and pacing. She asked what was wrong. Then the tears started. I was scared. What is happening to me? Why is this happening?
It beat the heck out of me. I was raised in a time when crying was a sign of weakness. Since my wife and I really had no idea what was happening with my emotional outbursts we headed to a medical facility.
Urgent Care
Not knowing what to do, we head to the urgent care facility that is affiliated with a local hospital thinking it would be quicker than the hospital. We Waited. And waited. And waited. Until finally we were called and led to the medical part of the facility. We were taken to a room and were now waiting for the physician. During this wait, I started to cry.
I thought I had put it ‘in check’ in the parking lot. Don’t cry. It’s a sign of weakness. A nurse brought me a warmed blanket. That helped a bit. It was comforting. Here I am warm and more secure but I still had the racing thoughts. Still not knowing the gravity of the situation. This is nuts. All I was doing was trying to send an email.
Finally, the physician came in and spoke to us and we explained what was happening. After we were done, she informed us that they don’t handle this type of thing there. That I should go to the Emergency Room. OK great we just wasted our time. Now, we still didn’t know what was wrong. But off to the hospital we go.
Emergency Room
Stepping into the emergency room we were engulfed by people. Great. How do I not cry here? Notice the theme: crying… crying… crying. Or more accurately. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. We waited for hours. Typical expectation of an emergency room. Until finally, we are called. It was light outside when we arrived. When we left, it would be dark.
Stepping back into the treatment area they checked my vitals. For one of them, probably blood pressure, they had me sit down and I started to cry. There was only one chair, and I was upset that my wife had no place to sit. After all the vitals were taken, we met with a doctor and were told I needed to go to a separate area of the emergency room, and they would call someone to help me. We were told to have a seat in the waiting room again and they would call us when they were ready.
We did more waiting until finally we were called. The person who was going to bring us back to the ‘special unit’ met with us and asked if we’ve ever been to this part of the hospital. Saying ‘no,’ he described where we’d be going. It is a locked area and there are people who monitor the individual units inside the door. This is weird I thought until we went through the now unlocked door and were greeted with someone pacing and muttering to themselves in the hallway. As the door closed behind us, I saw video feeds of the units and the people that monitor them.
We were taken to an empty unit and told that the hospital staff would call someone to come and help us. So we’re in the room and I’m crying, shaking, etc… One of the staff members popped in and asked if we wanted a ‘paper tray.’ I’m like what the heck is a paper tray? Then they explained it was dinner. Then I got it. In this part of hospital, paper trays were used to protect the patient from self-harm, as well as the hospital staff. I declined the paper tray. I just wanted to know what was wrong so we could get out of there.
We waited for the doctor or someone to come. We had no idea who they were calling. After waiting some more, probably an hour or so, someone finally came into our room. We explained what was happening and after we were done explaining she said, ‘what do you want me to do?’ Talk about a slap in the face. All I remember saying was, ‘I don’t know and pointed to my wife and said, ‘She made me come.’ The lady was from some mental health organization in our city. She wound up diagnosing me with stress. I was like stress? You’ve got to be kidding.
This was not stress. This, for me, was a breakdown. I had lost all emotional control. All the logic that was my being was gone. The walls that I had built over the years came tumbling down. Flooding me with events/emotions from years before that had been safely tucked away. I needed help.
She then sent us on our way only telling us that we should call someone. That’s helpful. Gee thanks.
It was dark on the drive home. We were feeling beaten and exhausted. I just remember staring out into the darkness. Lost.
The Prognosis
The next day I fired up the laptop and started looking for someone who could help me. I found a psychologist about 5 minutes from our house. It was a Saturday, so I left a message hoping for a callback on Monday. To my surprise, he called back on that day and said he could see us on Sunday. Wow, I thought, this is weird but OK.
Lauren and I arrive at the facility and are greeted by the doctor and taken back to his office. After we re-tell our story, he looks at us and says, ‘you’re depressed.’ I’m what, I ask, not believing him. After all I’m not sad. People with depression are sad right? I sit there in disbelief and continue to question him. At some point he takes a book out of the bookcase, flipped to a page and said ‘Here. Read this.’
This was the beginning of my depression.
Part 2 of my journey can be found here.
DISCLAIMER: The information provided above is for informational purposes ONLY and should NOT be taken as medical advice.
