What is it like to slowly lose yourself in your own personal hell? To check out involuntarily and have no way to stop it no matter how hard you try? For me, it was like falling into a well and everyone trying to grab my shirt before I fall into the well; missing me completely. It made everyone who wanted to be there for me feel helpless because I had was deep in the throes of my depression and there was no one would save me…except myself. I had experience depression all my life, but this was the one that would threaten everything I own, everything I had work for to establish myself as a photographer and graphic designer, and eventually, my sanity and possibly my life.
I think of my mind like a light bulb. When my mind is sharp, the light shines brightly. When my depression sets in, that light dims and eventually go out. Even though I know exactly when the light switch went off, I am not sure why I could not turn it back on. At first, it wasn’t that bad. Looking back, the light was flickering for a while. There were quite a few times in which I retreated to my bed and stay there and refuse to answer my phone. It was an easy way to check out, to ignore people to figure out my next move. But the past year has been different. The amount of time in bed seemed longer and I would have times of extreme sleep or insomnia. Neither one was good. It got to the point when I would wake up in time to see “Who Wants to be a Millionaire” at 1:30 in the morning and sometimes stayed awake to see the local news at 4:30 or 5:00 in the morning. I just chalked it up to getting old. When I slept, it was like I had planned on it happening. Sometimes because I used I would look forward to those hours of sleep because it was a continuation of unconsciously checking out. I continue to live like this for most of the year until the night the light went out and I could not turn it back on. My personal hell had begun.
Those dark days became figurative and literal. There were the days I stayed in bed an observed as my room grew dark with only the light of the TV the barely lit up the room. I had a lamp right next to me so I could see but it was better for me to stay in that darkness. It was my way to hide. I displayed some bizarre behavior that didn’t really seemed that bizarre to me. Who sits with headphones all day in a room so that you can hide in your own room? Who fills up 7 2-liter bottles of urine to be away from society? Who lies in a filthy room knowing how filthy it is and unable to clean it up? That was me. As the days went on, the days grew darker and darker. Imagine being on stage and the only light in the theatre in the spotlight that is on you. That spotlight was my world now and I was unable to expand that spotlight to include others. As much as I fought my anger with people, when I finally let go, it was mean. You hurt me and now you are no longer a part of my life. There was no discussion; no chance for forgiveness. That compassionate, funny, sarcastic, and light-hearted person had vanished and what appeared was a moody, sad, depressed, and tortured soul.
The return of crystal meth proved to be my vicious ally. I had a partner in crime and no one would be safe from me if I had a say in it. I may not have owned a gun, but what I had proved to be more lethal than any weapon I could find. I had the ambition and calculation of a drugged mind, and now you would be my victims, and I unleashed it with such fury. People who I considered my dear friends, were now my playthings for my satisfaction, not yours. I became very manipulative to answer all my curiosity and usually once I found out what I wanted, I was done. Those were the lucky ones. The other ones I took it to the point of no return and most of the time I had no remorse for what I was about to do to you. I made no apologies because you wanted it to happen. I told you to your face that I knew exactly what I was doing. I made you compromise your values to satisfy the pain I was experiencing. Never once did I think how what I was doing was hurting others. Never once did I think about the pain I was inflicting on myself or how my behavior affected others. Never once did I think that taking my pills may alleviate the problem. 4 pills would have changed things and I couldn’t make myself do that. What was the result? I hurt the people I care about. I damaged friendships, maybe even ended them. Was it worth it? I don’t know. I know that I wasn’t the person I was used to seeing in the mirror. But, how could I? I was surrounded by darkness; both literally and figurative.
January felt like I was in a complete fog. My brain started to shut down and I didn’t realize it. My intake of drugs had now increased dramatically and my reasons for it started to change. It wasn’t my body that craved the drug, instead, it was my mind. It was the only time I could now have a conversation with people, to have a little bit of the old me back. It only lasted for a few days and by the end of the week, my personality demanded it. It was the only way I could now get things done. I depended on that high to finally clean my room. If I wasn’t high, I was in bed by in the catatonic state I had now grown used to. I only had 5 days that my head was clear during the entire month. On one occasion after using, I had some clarity and called my sponsor and talked with him for 4 hours. That would be the last time we really had a coherent conversation until a day and a half after admitting myself in the psych ward. That was the middle of January, which means that for next month, I don’t have a clear recollection of what really happened. It is coming back slowly and painfully. All I do know is that it was maddening. A friend who usually sees me at least 4 or 5 times a week, now barely saw me for 2 weeks. I came and went like a blur, and usually without warning. I broke off friendships because I no longer trusted them. I shied away from social media because that would mean I have to answer questions I was not prepared to answer…
(To be continued in Chapter 5)
If you suffer from depression or know someone who is battling depression, please get help as soon as possible. You can call the National Hopeline Network, 1-800-SUICIDE (784-2433); the National Suicide Prevention Hotline, 1-800-273-TALK (8255); the National Youth Crisis Hotline, 1-800-448-4663.
If you are battling addiction, or know someone who is battling addiction, please call the National Addiction Hotline, 1-888-352-6072.
Keith's Passages 