[pylon]

OK, let's do this. In the spirit of this movement, let's talk.....

I made a bit of an insensitive post in another thread regarding mental illness. I still stand be what I said, but could have said it better, and I apologize for that. Many people on this board know me personally, and know my story, some don't. I don't shy away from it, it's who I am.

I had a pretty normal childhood for a 70's 80's kid. Tough dad, a little too tough at times, but that was pretty much normal back then. He is a great guy, and raised me how he saw fit. Would it fit in today's definition of parenting? No. But back then, not all, but a lot of dads were tough SOB's that laid down the law. No point dwelling on the past. Still love the guy, and he's my best friend. Funniest guy I know.

Growing up I took a lot of head shots. Between falling out of trees, bike wipe outs, line drives to the face, getting your 'bell rung' on the ice.... I can remember at least 6 instances of being out cold, and numerous others where I was groggy for days after. We call them concussions now. And I had a lot of them.

In my early 20's I lost my sister in a very tragic way. I was the last person to see her alive, and the last person she uttered words to while having a massive, fatal asthma attack. Those words "I'm going to die, I know it." and she did. The only saving grace was it was me that has to carry that horrific vision. Not my parents, not her kids, it is something I see every single day, and nothing will stop it. After a couple weeks of mourning, I finally decided to go out with some friends. Had some drinks, way too many drinks, was angry at the world, picked a fight with an acquaintance that I couldn't finish, and ended up out cold, face down, on a side walk. I truly believe that was the moment, I became clinically depressed. I believe the combination of my weakened mental state, and the head trauma, locked in, or broke something in my brain.

I struggled for years with it. Dark thoughts, miserable thoughts.... horrific nightmares, reckless behaviour. But I insisted on fighting through it on my own, without help. I managed, but I was never right. Managed to carve out a pretty good career for myself, and became a workaholic to keep my mind focused. Dozens of failed relationships because I had this incredible fear of abandonment, and would always break things off before I got too close. I didn't want to deal with losing someone I cared too much about.

Fast forward to 2012. My sisters son, my nephew, who was like a brother had the world at his fingertips. My folks raised him from 5 years old, and I was the stand in cool big brother. Honour student at the Manhattan School of Music, secured his first real role in an opera in Europe, and one night, he decides he's had enough. Decides to leave the earth on his own terms. 22 years old, gone. As it turns out, the last conversation I had with him, wasn't good. What was said was between me and him, but it was tough love, and he needed it at the time. I just wish it wasn't the last thing we discussed.

After finally getting my life to the point where I was managing well, everything collapsed like a house of cards. This was twice as difficult. This is a kid who I held in my arms when he was 2 minutes old. I followed his activities like a parent. I would brag about the most mundane crap... I know that parental pride. It's lame, but you don't care, and your gonna tell everyone no matter what.

Again I tried to deal with it on my own. I slugged through the funeral. Delivered his eulogy like I did my sisters, put together the memorial.... tried to be the rock of support for my folks. I was dying inside. I wanted so badly, to go to sleep and not wake up. It was truly a nightmare for me. I didn't get help.

I struggled for about 2 years but somehow managed. My work was suffering, I was late all the time. Poorly groomed, eating like crap, getting fat. But I still got the job done. I was sleeping for 12 hours a day, and just doing the bare minimum to go to work and collect a pay cheque. Then, Robin Williams did what he did. The similarities of his death to my nephew absolutely collapsed my world. It made no sense. Yeah Robin Williams was OK and I thought he was cool but I wasn't enamoured with him, but for some reason, it brought every single thing I was repressing to the surface, and I completely broke. I have never dealt with such a wave of sadness. I was dealing with depression, but this was a whole new level. I could not function. It made no sense, but perfect sense at the same time... I talked to my folks, I finally, after almost 20 years, got the help I needed. And followed through.

My therapist recommended antidepressants, and I was completely against it. I would not alter my mental state with drugs. That was my personal choice. And she was fine with it. We talked, and talked, and talked, and got it all on the table. It felt like a 10,000 pound stone came off my chest. Some of the conversations were tough, and embarrassing. Therapists really seem to have a keen interest in your whacking habits... just so you know. And I truly believe they ask you those questions simply to open you up, bring down the curtain, so you'll talk about anything. I could finally be honest with the people I loved about where I was in life. I could finally open up to my employers about why I was like I was. About the guilt I was feeling. It was liberating.

I made a brief career change for 6 months to reduce my stress. I went on a diet. I starting working out like an animal again. I got in shape, and I got happy. And when you get happy, great things happen. I returned to my employer I left 6 months earlier into a leadership role and things are awesome. The girl I loved more than anything, came back after 3 years to a new man. Maybe she was trolling my Facebook, or maybe it was fate. But the positive energy made positive things happen. All because I made the choice to seek help.

What I am trying to say dudes.... Don't try and tough it out. If you get to a dark point, get help. Make a call. Talk to your folks if you can, even if you were like me, in your late 30's. They want nothing more than to help you, and to ensure your happiness. Your story may be more or less tragic than mine, it's not a competition. But I feel I lost at least 10 good years to depression because I tried to be 'tough'. I still have my moments, and I always will. Some things will scar you forever, you cannot change that. But learning how to cope with them, and move forward will make all the difference in the world. It can mean the difference between a bad hour or day, and doing something to yourself you can't undo.

Asking for help isn't weak... it will only make you stronger.