The colours of depression

When it comes to noticing the colours of the leaves around me in Autumn, I'm not that guy. Well maybe I could be now, but I definitely wasn't.

Towards the end of 2019 I was so stressed out from work that my brain was fried. Sitting at my desk one day I text my wife "I think I need to see someone" and that was the first time I'd really asked anyone for help or admitted that I needed help.

I went to my GP who gave me a referral to see a therapist who diagnosed me with Chronic low mood, which is best visualised with that black and white tree on the far left.

I could never really get out of a 4-5/10 feeling, despite having a solid job, good income, perfect wife and kids. On paper, I had it all except for maybe a 6 pack and another 3 inches in height.

Chronic low mood was not a term I'd ever heard of, I probably associated depression with emo's and not getting out of bed. I was functioning but there were no lights on upstairs.

The Dr prescribed anti depressants which I was reluctant to try, again I was probably making assumptions like anti-depressants are like Xanax and I'll be a zombie. Like always, I was wrong.

The first few weeks on these pills was tough, I never nap and I needed to around 2pm each day but then eventually my body adjusted.

That's when the colour came back.

I remember taking this picture. When I saw this tree I actually said, out loud "holy shit look at that".

Again, I'm not a guy that has ever or anyone would say loved to talk about the colours of leaves. But this was an actual moment for me.

It was when I realised I'd been seeing everything in grey. That low mood really did cloud my brain and it was like every day was 13 degrees, dark clouds and drizzly (there's a Melbourne weather joke in there but be nice) regardless of the blue skies and sun shine.

I don't take those anti-depressants anymore but if that chronic low mood came back, I wouldn't hesitate to start again.

When I write about my own mental health, I get mixed messages and feedback. It's not an easy thing to write or talk about, but I'll tell you why I do.

My mental health dipped to it's lowest point in 2019 but it had never been 10/10 and another factor in me taking that first step to getting better was seeing a few other people share their stories.

One was a CEO who shared a very hard story of his own battles and I read that and thought "man, this is a CEO of a well known company". If it was ok for him to feel this way, it was certainly ok for me.

A couple of friends came out and shared their stories. A couple of NBA players (Kevin Love & DeMar DeRozan) did the same and while I'm worlds away from their lives, I thought if these 6'7 athletic multi-millionaires can have the same struggles, then it's not me, right?

So I share my story because every time I have, I get at least 1 person message me to say thank you because they're feeling the same way. To maybe be of some help to one person getting the help they need is a nice feeling.

As much as I don't want to admit it, with my Aussie male blue collar family roots, talking about it does help me too.

But overall I think it just needs to be normalised. I didn't ask for chronic low mood so it's not my fault. You'd talk about the back injury from netball and having to take Voltaren no problem but you have to hide the "mood injury" and anti-depressants, because why?

There will be some people that form a negative opinion on me or anyone else that shares stories like this, like it's a weakness. That's their opinion and that's fine.

My opinion is people like me who share our stories, our strength is our vulnerability. It's harder to be vulnerable than it is to fake bravado so I don't see myself as weak, in fact I see it very much in the opposite.