Black Ice
“I wish I’d known,” my brother-in-law said. “I wish I’d been able to help.”
“Well, I tried hard to make sure nobody did know,” I said.
That’s usually how the conversation starts. The undertone is always ignorance, and regret for that ignorance, as if you could have known. As if I would have in any way let people see past my forced smile and false engagement. As if my mental illness was something I was just going to discuss casually like I would the Lakers or the weather. I mean, that’s just not done. Especially by guys.
Before I was diagnosed, I didn’t know what depression was. I’d seen the commercial with the sad egg and heard the word, but it was always directed at someone else. Not me. I was a happy, funny, jokey kind of guy. I was invincible.
I’ve never lived in an area prone to cold weather, but I have a sense that depression is like black ice. You’re driving along on your way somewhere, or maybe nowhere. There’s a song on the radio. Your fingers are tapping on the steering wheel. Everything is under control. And suddenly, without warning, you’re sliding off the highway, tumbling, wondering what the hell just happened.
In the nine years since I first slid off the highway and into depression, what I have found most disconcerting is how many men, whether they know it or not, have slid off the same patch of highway. Some of them don’t even know it. Some of them are swimming around in their own confusion. Maybe they’re drinking too much or working too many hours or just shuffling through life like it’s quicksand. Maybe they’re cheating or snorting or gambling. The self-distraction is all part of it. That’s the hiding.
While I was chatting with my brother-in-law Saturday night, fireworks popping and whistling not far away, he told me one of his clients killed himself last week. The guy bought a two-million-dollar house, his business collapsed, he couldn’t afford his bug mortgage payments, and he took his own life. Depression? Probably. I’m not a therapist or a psychiatrist, but I’ve been in those scary places where you wonder if trying to rescue yourself is worth the effort.
It is. Do not succumb. Fight. Get help.
Turn into the slide.
I have a friend who suffers from depression. She was anti-drug for many years but finally found a doctor and a dosage that works for her.
Your description is right on the money, at least when I compare it to talks I've had with her about it.
That sensation that all's well with the world and then, WHAM, it's not!
I'm going to give her your post to read, especially your ending:
"I’m not a therapist or a psychiatrist, but I’ve been in those scary places where you wonder if trying to rescue yourself is worth the effort.
It is. Do not succumb. Fight. Get help.
Turn into the slide."
I guess this is exactly why I support you so much Danny. What you're doing is shedding light on something so serious and yet so hidden. And to put yourself out there while you do it is heroic in my book.
I love you.
that is all.
oh, and also, I wish my friend who is depressed but thinks she's not would read your posts. they could potentially save her, since she won't let me...
In my early 20s my dad had a huge bout of depression. Conversations with my mom went from, "Dad isn't sleeping so well these days," to "Dad isn't feeling great," to "Dad ran away and I don't know where he is." He eventually came home with scabs on both wrists. It took a long time to get him off the edge, but he is doing really well these days. He still doesn't talk about what happened - so I'm really looking forward to reading your book to try to get a glimpse to the other side of a really painful chapter in our lives.
Danny,
My soon to be ex husband suffered from depression for probably 2 years. I don't think that either one of us realized what was happening. It was such a gradual process. But it cost us our marriage. He is getting the help that he needs, now and will be a much better father for our boys.
I remember when someone first asked me if I thought he was depressed? I couldn't get my arms around that. My husband? Depressed? Depression is a womans problem. Men aren't depressed. Turns out? It isn't just a womans problem and men ARE depressed.
I believe that your bravery in talking about this will pay off, that it will save people, men, who don't know why they are suddenly in the ditch. And hopefully for the women trying to be their tow truck. (Did I just take the metaphor too far? I never know.)
Thanks for the post..
I feel that I've suffered from it since my son was born about 2 years ago. (Our third, now working on our fifth) But then I worry that I'm just feeling selfish and just need to get over it. My wife always tells me I look miserable. Usually it's because I'm lost in thought.
I've thought about going for help, but sometimes fell that I'm better than the medication.
I think this post will help me make more of a decision and talk to my wife about it.
Your children are lucky. Every dad who reads your book and gets help is lucky. My dad died when he was 44 and I was 22. There was definitely depression involved. I remember as a high school girl, staying up late, trying to convince him I still needed him around, he had to get better. I got married (maybe too young), moved away, like a normal child does. His life kept crumbling. I saw him the night before he died, so very drunk, the mall kiosk business lost ... the next day, a sheriff found me, and that is that.
So much regret and guilt. It doesn't matter if it's logical, it's in me forever.
Thank you for your willingness to call attention to this subject.
Another reason to love you, Danny. You put yourself out there.
My StepMom read a bit of Rage while she was here this weekend. She suffers from depression and is now separated from her husband becausee is horribly depressed and won't admit it. He won't seek help and walked away.
Sigh.
My brother-in-law has been diagnosed as manic depressive, bi-polar. They have been tweaking his meds for years and can't seem to find that perfect match for longer than two weeks. I would like to buy your book for him and his wife once it comes out. Maybe it will help him to know that other men suffer as well and he's not alone.
Wow, I've never seen it summed up better. I've been on anti's for 4 months and I'm all for them. Things don't seem nearly so drastic...I can't wait for the book. I'm sure us females will get alot out of it too! Thanks Danny!
I hope your commenter above, Eric, does decide on medication and/or therapy.
I divorced my first husband when our son was just 2. At the time, I didn't realize he suffered from depression; I just knew he was miserable to live with and that I wasn't going to raise a child in that environment.
Probably a year after our divorce, after having a long talk with him and realizing he needed help, he went to the doctor and was prescribed Paxil. He said just a week later, he felt like his old self again. He also told our son recently that if he'd been on it when we were married, I probably never would have divorced him. (I'm sure that's true.)
We are both remarried and very happy now (and good friends with each other), so it had a happy ending... but it still makes me sad to think how long he must've been depressed and I never recognized it. I feel guilty and responsible, to some extent.
There's nothing wrong with medication. Nothing. I hope Eric seeks help sooner rather than later.
Thank you for this post, Danny. You've potentially saved/helped lives.
You are so, so brave to recognize it, write about it and advocate for it. I think people do forget that this isn't just a women's issue. It's a human issue. And all of us with it have gotten there on different paths and with different reasons (including no reason at all).
I can't wait to read Rage.
danny- this post is magnificent... as is your story. i am proud of you.
Your honesty is such a gift. Depression is so seldom recognized in men. Thank you for what you bring to the conversation. I plan to recommend this site.
I wonder how many men (and women) will read this and recognize that they have been hiding all along. I am so stinking proud of you for putting this out there. You are going to help a lot of people, Danny.
Jesus. This is both beautiful and heartbreaking.
And absolutely necessary to be said out loud.
You just described exactly how I feel. I am actually a daily reader, but I don't think I feel ready to tell these thoughts out loud to anyone, so I am posting anonymous. But it is interesting to see my thoughts placed into words I am too afraid to write myself. It IS like black ice.
Beautifully put, good sir. I'm really glad someone's speaking up about male depression, it's so important and necessary.
Hi Danny,
I admire your willingness to lay it all out there, and I'll be checking back here to follow your writing. We've all known somebody battling depression, but what we don't often see is somebody talking about it.
I came across your blog on a list of excellent daddy bloggers (I'm a new dad myself) and decided to check you out. I'm glad I did.
Parry
Thank you for this, Danny. I think the hardest part of depression, for those who aren't going through it, is to watch someone they love wrestle with their own darkness, and to watch them fail is to watch a part of yourself become lost, too.
Shuffling through life like it’s quicksand...I've been there. thank you for speaking up about your depression. The more we talk, the more people will know they're not alone.
I too have suffered from depression and anxiety. "Black Ice" is a brilliant way to describe it and I couldn't agree more to "get help" life is so worth living!
I have suffered from depression for 12 years. I am 24 years old with 2 (+ one on the way) children and husband. I attempted suicide once when I was 17 years old, just before I got pregnant with my first son. I am a living testament to DEPRESSION IS A DISEASE and medication is almost ALWAYS an incredible resource. Try it! I say. If it doesn't work, try another one! Try till one fits. It took doctors 7 years to come up with the right combination of meds for me (also suffer from adult ADD), but it will forever be worth the trial and error. My meds have saved my life, sustained my marriage, and kept me alive.
My husband has suffered from periods of depression also, and each one has nearly torn us apart. Hot Wife is my hero for being able to stick with you through everything and coming out on the better end of things now that you're better. Sometimes I wonder if I have it in me to endure when things get really hard and I'm wondering where my husband has gone. You two are absolutely a couple worth looking up to, and I cannot wait to read your book. Perhaps I'll learn something I really need to know about my husband... while laughing my ass off.
I live in a cold area and my brother and my father both have major anxiety disorders. I am lucky enough to not have to deal with the anxiety. My father also has major depression. It manifested as drinking too much. My own issues started with PMDD and escalated to mild depression after 15 years. I still consider myself lucky. My destructive behavior was eating. I now eat healthy and have a healthy weight. I went from 210 to 113, I am about 5"5". I am glad you wrote this book. I am glad you are talking. Talking about it and sharing is the hardest part.
Danny,
These posts are bigger than the whole Dad / Humor Blog thing. You're a good man. Takes a lot of courage to be yourself and put it out there. Glad you see the bigger picture. We all are. Peace.
Jay
I've seen first hand with a wonderful lady I work with.
Her early 20's step son committed suicide in February. The dad decided that everyone needed to be tough and deal with it, no counseling. A second son did the same thing just 3 months later. Both had young children, in the middle of divorces-their whole lives ahead of them. Tragically their teen brother is the one who found them both. Depression issues for both of them was the source.
There are no words to comfort someone who has experienced the lasting effects of suicide.
Excellent, Danny. Thanks so much. Congratulations on Rage!
Funny how it takes all the courage in the world to admit such a "weakness". Being honest with yourself is such a brave thing sometimes. You have to ask yourself the hard questions -- and, braver yet, ANSWER them. Good for you. Sounds like you're back in control of the vehicle.
I think it's incredible that your story will, almost undoubtedly, help improve, or even save, the lives of some of the people who will pick it up.
I've suffered from depression on and off for over a decade, including post-partum. I've had that whole "I wish I'd known"/"I worked hard to make sure you didn't know" conversation with several loved ones. "Black ice" is an eerily perfect description for how it sneaks up and swallows you.
Thank you so much for your bravery in writing this book.
I'm depressed and on meds and surrounded by people who think it's ridiculous, that it's a character flaw. My life has so sucked and I'm so lonely that even with the meds I still want to do myself in. The black hole is still there.
Totally. It hits you out of nowhere. When you least expect it. (As it did me this year.) And I think everyone hides it. Its virtually impossible to understand unless you've felt it. And once you've felt it, you never ever want to go back there again.
I think its so hard to know that its bad enough to seek help. And when you are that deep in it, you are so lost that you can't really get help. That's why it is so important for everyone to be educated so your close friends/family can recognize the slide and intervene. They can get you the resources you need to get back on your feet. You never know who it is going to hit next. No one is immune.
You actually inspired me to begin trying to write about having been hospitalized for depression. Realizing you don't have to be free of the black ice to process it, that actually by the time you're 'done' there's no reason to write at all. That maybe by getting it out, bits at a time, I can turn into the ice. Thank you.
If you want to read it, the first part is up here. I'd be honored. http://thinkingmyselfwicked.blogspot.com/2009/07/part-i.html
Thank you, Danny. For writing this post, for writing the book, for being so brave. My father committed suicide when I was 5 months pregnant with my first child, his first grandchild. It threw me into the black ice face first. This post is the best description I've ever read about how it happened and what it was like. I am so looking forward to reading your book. I know it will be a blessing to so many men and women. I hope you realize how many people you are helping - thank you again.
I've driven on black ice before and I'd say that your metaphor is apt, though it had never occurred to me. As someone who was (is? but not as severely) depressed and on the edge, I can say that 4 years ago I didn't think there was anything worth living for. Now I'm very grateful I did. I couldn't have imagined, when I was depressed, how much better life would be now.
It also taught me a lot about living with my depressed husband. The depression makes our marriage harder sometimes--but since we know it's there and can talk about it, it's more like being married to someone with a chronic illness than taking the toll that depression sometimes takes.
I apologize in advance for the epic length. I had a blog, and now I don't. Haven't been moved to write until now.
Depression runs deep in my family. I lost a sister to manic depression a few years ago. She went off her meds and spiraled into suicide. Both my former and current wife suffer from depression and are medicated.
I tell myself that I suffer from seasonal affective disorder. I take the meds "when it gets bad" and stop when I'm feeling "normal" again.
The problem is, "normal" for me includes daydreaming about how I'm to die. I have a loving and vibrant wife and great children, and I never expected to be alive to see them grow up. Am I suicidal? I don't think so, but perhaps I'm not qualified to make that judgment. Right now, I can take those feelings out, look at them, know that they're there, and put them away with a good deal of success. I am fortunate to be vary self aware, believe that if things ever get to the point where I'm on the verge of acting, I'll get the appropriate help.
I am a classic "men can't be depressed" story. If I'm depressed, and need to indulge that, who goes to work, who pays the bills, who takes care of house maintenance? Men, generally speaking, feel those pressures in a far more personal way than women do. Even today, we feel we have to be the breadwinner, the rock, taking all the responsibilities on our shoulders, and we just don't have time to be depressed. It's self indulgent, and weak.
But it isn't.
I will be buying your book. Because you've been there. You're back (some days more than others, I'm sure).
I'm hoping to find out what the trick is.
Your talent is in your ability to draw people out through your words. I'll never meet you(unless I'm incredibly fortunate), but I relate to you, and that means a lot.
Thank you.
Once again, Danny, thanks for being so honest. Hopefully it's cathartic for you--it's definitely eye-opening for the rest of us. The black ice metaphor seems apt--living in New England, I can at least vouch for the feeling of helplessness and sliding out of control. And that's just in a car.
I'm so looking forward to your book.
Thanks for the post, Danny. It still seems so taboo for men to talk about any kind of weakness, physical or emotional. Bullshit!
I have suffered from what I thought was depression for more than 15 years, but was recently diagnosed with ADHD. Getting off the antidepressants and going on a stimulant has been life-changing. My family thinks this diagnosis is wrong...I'm relatively balanced, motivated, intelligent, etc...not the stereotypical poster child they imagine when they think about ADHD. Except I AM the stereotypical ADHD poster child...and it's the "H" part that has gotten me this far in life. It keeps me going compulsively, but it can make maintaining relationships difficult.
My husband initiallythought my doc was nuts, until the doc looked at him and told him that ADHD folks tend to marry other ADHD folks, because they can relate to each other so well. My husband, who long thought he suffered from crippling panic attacks and deep anxiety, is also on a stimulant now and is doing incredibly well. It was hard to convince him to pay out of pocket for a separate appointment, but he did. And I think we will both be able to function much better together, and as individuals, for it.
Thanks for breaking the silence. Men need a strong role model like you.
Great post, Danny.
Danny...My other half also suffers. His family has a history of manic depression and as the years pass, it becomes more difficult to keep away from the edge. I am hoping I can get him to read your book. We have been together for 23 years today, and the man I married is in there somewhere!! He's smart, funny, and talented and I love him bunches. I come to your blog and always read the columns to him that make me belly laugh. Thanks.
Just want you to know, your words are touching in so many ways. My husband and I are both dealing with depression in our own sort of ways. You really express how we feel, as we sit on the deck reading/discussing your blog. You are great and we, as a couple, can't wait for your book in AUGUST!!!!!!!!!
I think many people aren't really aware that depression is a possibility for men. They expect men to "buck up", "let it go". These outlooks are so dangerous and I am so thankful that you are shining a light on the reality of depression and men. Thank you Danny.
Hiya, my dad told me about your blog as I suffer with depression and have on and off since my sister died suddenly. My mum has also had a couple of breakdowns and has tried to take her own life, so dad being dad let me know about your blog and said I may like to read about your experiences. Thanks for sharing, you help others remember that there not the only ones out there who feel that way.
Pixy xx
My grandfather was a huge inspiration in my life. He taught me about music and how to let it become a part of my being. He taught me to close my eyes and breathe in tense or scary moments. He taught me to find humor in life. I have so many memories of him that make me smile. And more that make me cry. He killed himself when I was 11. I can still remember my mother screaming. I remember my uncle breaking down and throwing himself on the casket and screaming, "Why!? I loved you." I can remember his children at his funeral and how each of them jumped and shook during the 21 gun salute. I remember everything.
He sought help but there was such a negative stigma attached to it, that he gave up. His whole life was reduced to that one moment, reduced to a single flash of light, blood and gun powder. And my life, the lives of my whole family, have been defined by it.
From the survivors - thank you. Thank you for telling your story and hopefully changing the outlook of others. And with that, maybe - just maybe, giving another 11 year old girl somewhere a different definition of her life.
great post.
it is important for people to realize there is nothing shameful about mental health! and we all have to do our part to remove my stigma.
although i don't say what it is - and don't broadcast it, i also don't hide that i take anti-d's, see a therapist for my problem and visit a support group once a month.
i'm very opened about it around my daughter, because i want her to know it's not something to be ashamed about. she even knows i spent a few nights in a mental hospital.
and when she said that she REALLY wanted to know why i went there, i told her that i tried to kill myself. - don't worry, i now fully understand the foolishness and stupidity of that move!
i'm not happy that my daughter had to hear that, but i'm glad she knows it happens to people you know and love.
Thank you for sharing your experience with all.So many people are stigmatized by MI-- especially the male species. Danny, you have written a book that will help so many people that experience symptoms of MI