One year ago last spring, I discovered a place where time was entirely suspended. There was no beginning to anything. There was no ending to anything. I could not feel the breeze on my skin. I could not taste the food I tried to eat. Simply attempting to drink a glass of water usually resulted in feeling like I would lose my stomach. The hour, the day, the week, all were lost into a category of being so unimportant they began to lack all substance. Entire days could arrive and disappear, without ever being noticed by me. Several times I crossed railroad tracks in front of trains. Not because I intended to do such a dangerous thing, but because I never saw the trains. And you would have to agree, trains are very large and loud and hard not to see. But when you are suffering major depression, you seldom see anything, regardless how immense in size, regardless how solid it surrounds you. There were multiple events, each filled with its own enormity of sorrow, which resulted in my arriving at such a state of non-being. The vacancy in my mind and soul was so real, I cannot even remember when, why or how I decided to set first one foot and then the other on the path toward recovery. I do recall taking an evaluation to determine degree of depression. On a scale where any score above 25 indicated I needed to be hospitalized, I scored 41. Being a therapist, I already understood that "therapist heal thyself" is not good advice. Yet because I am a therapist, I also knew I had the tools. I had the skills. I could navigate the darkest night of my soul, if I could grab a good rope and haul myself into even a small patch of light, and if I could find a competent guide to walk with me, give me discipline, keep me heading in the correct direction. I did heal myself. I did have an excellent guide. And I also forged several genuinely therapeutic friendships along the journey. Depression therapy and group participants are very confidential things, and I would never say more about my experience than this: I will forever be grateful to my guide, to the friends who worked with me and helped me. I hope I helped them a little bit, as well. I hope a few of them will read this and know how valuable they were in helping me find the light out of that dark night of my soul. It can be done.
