First a thank you to Rebecca Massie for building the Better Because website and offering the community a forum to explore the positive aspects of mental illness. We all know the negative effects of mental illness. We seldom recognize the positive ones.
Mental illness doesn’t run in my family, it gallops, but it never really affected me until seven years ago. That’s when I fell into a dark depression. Surprisingly, it was the best thing that ever happened to me. How could something so debilitating as depression be good? The answer is that it was the catalyst for my personal growth. I’m a more open and compassionate person now, and humble too. Depression will do that for you, no extra charge.
When I hit age 57 an avalanche of health issues swept me off my feet, literally. I couldn’t get out of bed. I would hear my wife drive off to work and be overwhelmed with loneliness. I knew it was foolish to feel abandoned by such a trivial separation, but I still crawled back under the covers. The serpent brought me to my knees. “I’ll do anything you want,” I whispered, “I’ll even kill myself. Just make the pain go away.” He wrapped himself around me and squeezed even harder.
Mine is not a unique story. According to the National Institute of Mental Health, fifteen million adults in America suffer from depression every year. That’s almost seven percent of the population. Forty million Americans a year experience anxiety disorders. That’s almost one out of every five Americans. Fifty percent of Americans will experience a bout of some form of mental illness during their life time. Depression is estimated to cost four hundred million lost work days in America every year. Including indirect costs, that translates into two hundred and ten billion dollars in expense to the American society. Clearly this is a problem we need to address as a nation.
Removing the social stigma to mental illness is a crucial first step to addressing the problem. Emily Dickinson, JK Rowling, Georgia O’Keefe, Princess Diana, Oprah Winfrey, Winston Churchill, Michel Phelps, Charles Darwin, Wolfgang Amadeous Mozart and Sir Isaac Newton all suffered from depression. Depression is not a character defect, it’s a medical condition, and each of these very successful people triumphed over it. Outing myself publicly is my attempt to normalize this condition. Once it’s out in the open I am inoculated from the shame I once carried around in my head. Shame only exists in the shadows.
I am humble enough to know that I can’t control the future, but I do consider myself recovered or more precisely evolved. Saying otherwise would be a self-limiting belief that does not serve me or speak my truth. I’m not saying I won’t ever feel sad, anxious or even depressed, I just won’t react to my feelings with maladaptive behavior. Life for me is meant to be lived full of both pain and joy, fear and love, humility and grace. Being vulnerable and sensitive has an upside. You can have positive experiences, positive relationships and positive outcomes. If you embrace your vulnerabilities, it can empower you to grow spiritually, emotionally and mentally. I’m grateful I was suicidal. It brought me to where I am now; stronger, more vulnerable, wiser and more compassionate. It also led me to help others through life coaching. To quote Mahatma Gandhi, “The best way to find yourself is to lose yourself in the service of others.” You can’t be depressed when you are helping someone else. And let me be honest, depression for me was a state of self-absorption.
I recall reading Abraham Lincoln’s own words about his bout of suicidal depression in January of 1841. “I am the most miserable man living. If what I feel were equally distributed to the whole human family, there would not be one cheerful face on the earth… To remain as I am is impossible: I must die or be better.” I took solace in knowing that one of America’s greatest presidents shared my malady. I also wondered how he pulled himself out of it. In August of 1841 he told his close friend, Joshua Fry Speed he was not afraid to die, but he had an irrepressible desire to connect his name with something that would contribute to the interest of his fellow man.
Reading these words, I realized Mr. Lincoln found his answer by serving others in political office. Lincoln was never “cured.” He suffered through frequent bouts of “melancholy” till the day he was assassinated, but he chose to find meaning and vitality in his life, not despite his suffering, but because of it.
My search to understand my depression led me to discover scientific research on post traumatic growth. Some survivors of trauma not only avoid falling into PTSD or recover to their former healthy selves, but actually bounce forward. The five paradoxical changes reported are: an increased sense of personal strength, deeper interpersonal connections, discovering more meaning in life, greater compassion and spiritual development. This is not to say survivors who experience post traumatic growth experience less distress or increased happiness. They experience life on a deeper and more meaningful level, but it’s not carefree. I compare it to the title of Jon Cabot Zinn’s 1991 book, “Full Catastrophe Living.”
Recovering from depression was the hardest thing I’d ever done in my life. It made summiting Mt. Kilimanjaro feel like a cake walk, but it also gave me a sense of confidence that anything is possible. I’ve written my first book, Love and Prozac, a novel based on my evolution through depression. (From the shameless commerce department, it’s available on Amazon and 100% of the profits go to promote mental health.) I’ve become an executive and life coach. I speak in public to community organizations and schools about healthy male behaviors, mental health and the keys to finding your potential, passion and purpose. I also cry more often. I owe all this to my depression, though I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone. There are more intelligent, less painful strategies for personal growth.
One of the biggest lessons I learned from my depression is simple. If you run into a brick wall, find your own path onto the other side. Climb it with ropes, dig a tunnel under, sledge hammer a hole through it. Do whatever it takes. My biggest breakthroughs came from meditation, spending time with friends and family and listening to my own inner compass. What was important to me and what did I want to do with the rest of my life? If your life isn’t fulfilling, search for something better. Each and every one of you deserves a rich, meaningful life. Find yours. No one else can do it for you. To quote Oscar Wilde, “Life isn’t just about finding yourself, it’s about creating yourself.”
Kind regards,
Gary G. Gilberg
