Seven Years of Clinical Depression: What Came of It?

Hello fellow Steemit users, Creatine here. I am rather new to this platform and have been wondering how I may start getting some traction under my feet... I figured, why not start off by providing some information about a critical time in my life? Why not start of with a story; one that may inspire others who are currently where I was four years ago? I mean, this is a story I have told many times, but never publicly... So, here I go...

The Loss That Led To An Ongoing Battle With Myself.

When I was around seven years old, I had lost the man I held dearest in my life. My Father... They say it easier to say farewell when you know it is coming; when you can say your goodbyes.. I was unable to do that in regards to the passing of my father. It hit suddenly, much like a freight train, and held many repercussions that would slowly ensue after he was gone... Picture a kid who had talked with his dad just three days earlier of a business trip he must attend and that he would be back within the week to bask in the warmth and affection of his family once more... Now, picture that same kid, that same happy, ignorant, kindergarten child, waking up one morning to find his mother sobbing on the living room couch for seemingly no reason, only to be told that his beloved father had died overnight from a car accident in which a drunk driver had caused his death. As expected from any sane person, the intensity and fragility of the situation wasn't lost on my then indignant and livid seven year-old self. The abrupt; piercing sense of loss I felt would bear the creation of something much more sinister within my mind that would remain for the majority of my childhood to come...

(A picture of my father and I)

The Bottom of a Hole That Was Seven Years Deep.

As many people do when something incredibly meaningful to them is lost, I grieved... And grieved... And grieved as if it was a perpetual cycle of self-loathing and despair. My emotions and thoughts jumped to several different perspectives and rationalizations during this time in order to try and find meaning and closure. There was this gradual loss of innocence and ignorance that came with being a child that diminished and left a seemingly incurable numbness in it's wake. Initially, I was so blind by the loss that I was experiencing that I thought my father may one day come back down to earth from heaven (As stupid as that sounds), but that thought was short-lived after acceptance ensued... However, I didn't truly accept what had happened the way I supposed to... I considered it to be my fault for not stopping my father from leaving and I continued to carry that weight on my shoulders for the longest time. I also wanted blood... I wanted the man who was irresponsible enough to let go of himself that night and take my father's life dead; I wanted him gagged, slit, castrated, and mauled beyond the point of recognition before his well-deserved end. Now, the man himself did get a ten year sentence on a count of man-slaughter, but, as one can imagine, that was not enough to fulfill that instinctual: animalistic need for revenge, let alone the hole that was burrowed deep into my heart after the incident... To this day, I still haven't truly let go of my hate for that man... After that court hearing was finished and I was back home, that is when I truly began to lose myself...

Losing Myself in the Upwards Climb Out of a Hole Named "Depression"

It was after the loss of my father settled in, as well as the entirety of the situation around it, that I experienced the repercussions of everything. My mother had noticed my unwillingness to socialize or speak with my family and friends, as well as my reserved; introverted nature that came to be a part of my new persona. I was brought to a psychiatrist who diagnosed me with clinical depression and anxiety at the age of eight, that, in turn, eventually led to my doctor putting me on a high-dose SSRI medication (Zoloft), which I believe in hindsight made my condition worse. It was after the introduction of the medication that my apathetic personality was intensified. I started to eat my feelings, which led to me gaining weight rapidly; I was considered to be obese by the time I turned twelve. That was also the time I discovered the "relief" drugs and alcohol had on my troubled mind, which also led to the development of alcoholism. There just seemed to be no end to my misery.

(A 270 lb me; hours before a party, where I would binge drink to drown my sorrows.)

Finding a Better Me During My Ascent

It was around the time I was thirteen that I finally decided it was time to kick myself in the ass. I'm not entirely sure what triggered it, but I would definitely attribute it to the epiphany I had regarding my self-view. I basically told myself "look, I'm done being an insecure, worthless, obese, pitiful shit-stain on the face of humanity and I want to change it." Now, while that may seem harsh and contributing to my own emotional issues, I believe it gave me the necessary boost to change my life for the better... I decided to join my school's Junior High Wrestling team (Mainly because my father used to be an amazing wrestler and I feel more connected to him through the sport.), And I also made the decision to stop using drugs and alcohol altogether, my anti-depressant included. Now, quitting everything all at once was very difficult, and I'm not saying it didn't lead to more problems (more on that later), but I do believe it was for the better long-term... After this re-invigoration I found within myself and the dedication I applied to my newly placed goals, I lost one-hundred pounds and found a passion for the sport of Wrestling and Bodybuilding. Initially, though, I was very hard on myself and developed anorexia as a result of my rapid; major weight loss, but I was able to recover from that within a couple year's time.

( A 160 lb me following my rigorous weight loss that took place over six months)

Where Am I Now?

I am more than happy to say that I am a completely changed man after my seven year struggle and my four year recovery period. I am an eighteen year old adult, about to undergo my final year in high school without any heavy burdens plaguing my mind. The majority of what has held me back from true happiness is gone and I am leading a fruitful; fulfilling life as someone who has shattered their hindrances. My main reason in writing this was to simply convey that there is always a chance of resilience; there is always a chance of bouncing back from what is keeping you in a rut and, moire often than not, the only thing holding you back is yourself. If you take some time to re-prioritize your life and how you wish to see it unfold, what was once viewed as a never-ending nightmare may just seem like a distant memory.