I didn’t realize it at the time but I had withdrawn from my life. Our typically lively dinner conversations had all but ceased. The things that usually brought me pleasure in life—spending time with family, working on my various collections, even a nice glass of wine—seemed more like chores than anything. Nothing in life really gave me any pleasure at all. I looked forward only to bed, because it meant another day was over.
I didn’t realize that anything was wrong with me. I would later learn that family and friends noticed the changes but were afraid to say anything. Only my wife, Ellen, broached the subject, and she remained cautious.
I hit rock bottom when I began crying myself to sleep most nights. Suicide seemed like a more and more reasonable alternative. I craved darkness and solitude. I even called a suicide hotline one night when things got really bad.
Two things kept me going during this period of my life. The first was my family. I knew somewhere deep inside myself that my wife and son needed me. I knew I couldn’t give up. I wouldn’t.
The second was my job here at Wabash. I love teaching here. I love interacting with my friends, and especially my students. I do everything I can to prepare students for what comes after Wabash. In my darkest hours, this perspective gave me purpose. A reason to get out of bed, a reason to keep fighting.
Sometime during this stage I finally realized something was wrong. My wife became insistent I seek help and I finally heard
her. I sought help first through my general practitioner, and ultimately through both a psychologist and psychiatrist.
Today I am much improved. I still struggle with depression, and it might be that I always will. Still, with training and medication I’ve found a good balance. My wife tells me I’ve returned to my old self. I enjoy spending time with my family again. I have a great relationship with both my son and my wife. As is obvious, I continue to teach at Wabash, and continue to love doing so.
So why tell this story? First, for those of you who have never experienced depression, I wanted you to know how dangerous depression can be. You need to be vigilant. If you see signs of depression in others, urge them to seek help. Make sure they understand that you are there to help them. Make sure they hear you.
For those of you who suffer from depression—know that you are not alone. Therapists aren’t simply people to listen to your problems. They can offer strategies, such as cognitive behavior therapy. Yet it takes commitment and an active role in therapy to achieve true changes in destructive thought processes. In many cases medication can help you, but it takes time to get the dosage and specific medications correct.
Only half of all Americans who suffer from depression actually seek help. This number is far too low. There is help out there. It’s okay to ask for it.
Biology Professor Patrick Burton, from his Chapel Talk, Fall 2016