Could you tell me a time you felt hopeless?

The passions I used to have had been cremated from my mind and the ashes scattered without my permission. An abundance of anxiety plagued me whilst still feeling completely empty. I had lost all the ability to love, to be grateful, thankful, and empathetic. Instead, these values that had been nurtured in me for eighteen years were suddenly replaced with anger, frustration, and a sense of deep sadness and an inability to function like a ‘normal person’.

It takes a while to understand depression, perhaps longer than it lasts most of the time. After school, I naively took a gap year with no real plan to travel, no career path and no desire to grow up any time soon. It was a recipe for disaster and that’s exactly what it created. I had no routine and it proved to be destructive.

It’s hard to describe to those who have never experienced depression what it feels like. However, to those that have, there’s no easier task. For months, I was physically incapable of getting out of bed. Not an exaggerated laziness but a genuine pursuit of Everest faced me every morning. If I had a shower and ate three meals on the same day, I would consider it a resounding success. Thoughts would plague my mind in a way that would terrify anyone else around me. I was comfortable with them. This was what I knew now, this was my mind, this was my life and there was no way out of it. I didn’t want to see or talk to anyone. I saw no joy in anything and wondered how it was possible that others could. The functioning of my brain had completely changed and I watched it happen right on top of me.

I can vividly remember countless times of physically gripping my head at night, trying to tear out whatever mess was going on up there. My eyes ran out of tears in the end and my body was slowly shutting itself down as fast as it could. I’d look in the mirror to discover a face of embarrassment and hopelessness looking back at me, wondering how I had come to this. I was really desperate.

The only people keeping me going at this point, my parents, asked me one evening what was going on, this was far beyond a grumpy teenager now. This was an opportunity for me to let out a physical cry for help. I had gone beyond the ability to help myself anymore so please could someone else? The next morning I find myself face to face with a GP being asked a multiplicity of intrudingly personal questions such as whether I feel suicidal. It’s almost impossible to admit to anyone that you have had suicidal thoughts even if you know that they’re trying to help you. It’s physically irrational to admit that level of weakness to another human. Alas, I forced a nod and feel the last droplet of my pride sink to the tips my toes.

Depression creates this odd brain chemistry where you lose all logic and rationale. I was convinced that I needed to do certain things when they made no sense at all. One night I was adamant that I needed to go to my golf course in the pitch black and hit golf balls into one hole. So that’s what I did. I must’ve hit about fifty shots in the pitch black dark, rain soaking me through. I lay on the grass for a while having found no enjoyment or resentment from hitting the balls. I felt nothing. Yet I still wept to myself and begged the world to explain itself to me.

I lost interest in everything, the idea of playing the sports I loved was out the window. The God that I’ve been raised to believe that loves me is obviously not there now, or at least he wasn’t answering me. And the idea of attending social events put unspeakable anxiety into my mind.

There’s no magic pill or inspiring phrase that can drag someone out from the pit of sadness that depression throws you into. It’s a long process, and for me, felt a somewhat subconscious one.

A pandemic came around whilst I was at my lowest. I’ve read many accounts of people expressing how isolation caused them deep loneliness and solitude that ultimately led to mental health problems. I feel guilty to say, isolation became a great friend of mine. It was the loneliness and solitude that I needed at that time. I could go outside and run for miles, with a very small chance of seeing anyone. No social events occurred that required me to charge up my body battery for a week after. And every day gave me a chance to self reflect, journal, exercise, and let my body and mind recover from the stress that it had been through in the months before. My family moved house to the countryside, another opportunity of solitude and peace.

Slowly I began to rebuild my mind. I forced myself to do the things I used to love even if I didn’t find the same enjoyment. Gradually, I began to fall back in love with them. I applied for university, to get myself a fresh start and allow myself to have a plan set in place for at least the next four years. I ran more, what I found to be a form of meditation in the end, running was my happy place. I started journaling, finding my passion back for writing, this proved invaluable to understanding my own thoughts at the time.

I look back now, reflecting upon what I experienced, with nothing but pride and gratitude. Experiencing mental health problems equips you well for life. It helps you to understand the world around you. I can feel other people’s sadness, happiness, anger; I can empathise with them. I can see the beauty in day to day life, I am thankful every day, for life’s little pleasures. The things that I lost, I will never take for granted again. Playing golf with my Dad, and with my friends in the most beautiful parts of Scotland brings me intense euphoria like it never used to. Being able to get out of bed early, see my friends and spend the whole day out of the house without an anxiety attack makes me immensely proud. And being able to listen, be there, and feel comfortable to say the right things to the people around me who are struggling with their mental health makes me incredibly appreciative.

Three years on I am in the happiest place I have ever been. I am two and a half years deep into my degree, my relationship with God is stronger than ever, I’m surrounded with great friends that I never thought I would have, and most of all, I’m looking forward to my future. The future that I thought I may never have.