Depression so deep and painful, you don't feel like moving, let alone breathing. I've certainly been there. Sometimes only a day or two. Other times for months. It can happen even when I'm in a beautiful location, and life is great. Like it did when I was in Sevilla, Spain this last December and the following months. Alas, this is normal for me.
During the times within the darkness, all I can do is count my blessings (which is a lot) and stay the course. Keep working, keep grinding. Even though I don't feel like moving. Just keep telling myself that this is a temporary chemical imbalance. Because that is exactly what it is, and I know I'll get through it.
Fortunately, as of the time of this posting, I can say that I am of sound mind free of the claws of depression. Although admittedly, I started this writing weeks ago in the midst of the darkness. Please know that I wrote this NOT to implore pity. Rather, to put these thoughts into the world to let others know they are not alone. To evoke discussion around their own experiences with depression.
As a lifelong sufferer of depression, I know how painful depression can be. How it can feel unbearable at times. How the venom of your own depression can drag down the loved ones around you. Trick your mind into believing you are a burden to the world.
Even if brief, I would be lying to say my mind hasn’t been poisoned with this mindset from time to time. Be that as it may, this false reality never stays in my mind for long. Nor have I ever felt too close to the edge that I couldn’t easily step away from this mindset. I am grateful for that, and for the ability to mitigate my depression.
I attribute a lot of my mitigation of depression through being an endurance athlete. The combination of a clean diet, and exercise can do wonders for depression. But I often wonder if my desire to ride long hours alone in the wilderness isn’t me trying to run away from something from my past. Perhaps the scares from being a child of divorce (like too many others) and being so painfully shy. Or is it trading in one bad addiction for another that is more socially acceptable in the name of being an “athlete”. Even if socially acceptable, I cannot deny that it is absolutely an addiction.
Furthermore, to be a competitive endurance athlete takes the ability to put oneself into extreme pain. I always felt that there is a degree of darkness in this. An internal hatred of oneself to be able to push so hard.
At the same time, being an athlete has bestowed a confidence in me that I never had before. Shaped me into the person I am today. Made me a better Father, Husband, employee, and all-around human being.
But do I lean too much on being an athlete to feel good about myself? And how many times has being an athlete been a negative on my life and my loved ones? Nevertheless, I still believe the positives far outweigh the negatives.
I also question what I will do when it’s over. As a seasoned athlete, I can’t deny that I am getting closer to the top of the bell curve as far as year to year athletic gains. There will be a time when gains become loses, and I will need to reevaluate not just if I want to continue to pursue being an athlete. I will need to evaluate how that will affect my entire life.
To be an elite athlete takes every element of your life and soul to endure. And when that’s gone, you better have a strong exit strategy. Already, I am mentally preparing myself for that day.
Until then, I will keep pursuing this addiction. Keep hoping that it is a just treatment for the darkness that is my own depression. And hope that when it’s all over, I can let go of this crutch and walk on my own two feet without it.
In conclusion, I pray my friends I call fellow athletes have a more positive path that guides them down the same journey. And if they do share the same battles with darkness, that they will let me, or someone know before it becomes too much. Don’t let the darkness swallow you my friends. You are loved.
#letstalkaboutdepression #shredthestigma
Go4Graham Foundation
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK (8255).
