The Ferocious wolf..
Depression is a disease, and a very serious one.
The WHO defines depression as a black dog. Until 2016, they were bloodthirsty ferocious wolves to me.
From here I will narrate the greatest depressive crisis that I consider to have had during 15 years of suffering from this disease.
Not everything was going well, because depression manifests itself when there are specific triggers. In this case, it was something I did not expect: love, or, lack of love; this tragedy (I refer to the literary genre) is not part of this story.
The mixture of unresolved internal conflicts, the anguish of living in an unstable country and the guava of having distanced myself from many people, led me to what was my last depressive crisis but curiously, the most serious because at the end of that 2013, I fell account of how I brought so many people to my inner conflict.
I feel alone, hopeless, aimless in life, alone still surrounded by people, useless and above all, empty. The way out of everything seemed easy: suicide. It sounds banal, but whoever has lived it knows what I'm talking about.
I had read on the internet that acetaminophen cured love sickness, and therefore depression, the placebo worked, but the great sadness and my desire not to live were still there.
The days passed, each one was worse than the last. I picked up the Bible, read Job, and felt deeply identified with him. I cursed my life and the day I was born, I condemned God that I kept suffering, I consider that He is love and not hate.
Why give me life if I am going to suffer? Then I learned that maybe it was a lesson. Meeting with Him will always be the best decision and that I will never be able to forget.
My closest friends, in fact, the real ones, noticed that my mood had changed a lot. There were those who caught his attention of the super dark verses that he shared, there were those who noticed that I had moved too far, or that I was no longer eating; There were even those who saw me cry at the university (I had never cried in the street, much less in a public bathroom or on a staircase).
I cried so much that my eyes were already allergic to tears, sleeping was impossible for me due to the constant nightmares and performing any task, it was deeply difficult for me. And all right in the penultimate semester of my first university degree!
And of course, there was always someone who said "you are very young, what are you going to be worrying about?" Without knowing that, since I was 8 years old, I had already begun to develop concerns that I should not have.
I felt defeated, again, did I go back to 2011 when I first faced depression publicly and with his name? Was the question I asked myself. But unlike the curse of 2 years ago, in 2013 I did accept that there were people who loved me and I no longer had the thought that they would see me as that other person that I did not want to look like at all.
The support my dad gave me was a blessing from God and it kept me alive. Contact with a professional psychologist also kept me alive. This professional for 5 years helped me to decipher everything that happened to me and guided me to know what was the correct way to heal those wounds that had generated me in the past.
In 2011, I accepted my own challenge and my eternal advice was; I went to the psychologist. I cried thousands of times, accepted hypnosis therapies and retreats. With the help of experts, I got tools to keep my feet in life and work for it.
Again, from this depressive crisis, I learned about myself and my environment. I was grateful to God, for keeping me alive and with the illusion of meeting again at some point with all those family members from whom at the time I left out of shame or simply, I felt that, if I was close to them, I was going to harm them.
My thanks also go out to all the people who were understanding with me during those terrible years because they endured my attitudes, reactions or actions; these being the worst moments of my life.
I beat the big bad wolf, for that time, I beat that 2011 which was when everything started to get out of control, and the depression, which is there, always latent.
If I use the words of the WHO, I must always tame that black dog, and I am at it, sometimes it will bite me again, but, the human is me, therefore I am in control.
Every 40 seconds someone on the planet commits suicide, let's be attentive to this.
If you suffer from depression, you feel that life is worth nothing more than suffering and that imminent death is the way, you can write to me, I am not a psychologist, but I can direct you to someone to help you the way they did with me or if you prefer it that way.
For me, it will be a pleasure to help you get out of that turbulent path and of course, to be able to stimulate you.
Don't be ashamed to admit that you suffer from depression ... Seek help..
I upvoted you, thank you for posting! 👍