What it’s like to get diagnosed with Depression

I plan to share my own story of depression on this blog slowly over time, combined with relaying my current life and any problems or questions I come up with as I go along.  Hopefully, this will not result in a sad, mopey blog, and will even include posts that don’t relate to depression at all.  I encourage people to share their stories in the comments as well, or even just say Hi or post questions you may have.  That is my main hope for this blog, to get people talking to one another.

How it started

I was first diagnosed with major depression when I was in college, and I must say it really kicked my ass.  I’m sure it had been building up for a while (some of my therapists would say it had been building up most of my life), but it was the summer between my sophomore and junior years that I really became incapacitated.  I was living on campus, taking a few summer courses, and I started having trouble getting out of bed.  

Huge amounts of my time were spent either crying or sleeping, curled up in a ball under the sweaty covers (it was summer after all).  I managed to drag myself out of bed to class and the occasional work shift, but couldn’t find the energy to shower, eat, or clean my room.  I was withdrawing from my friends, losing weight and barely managing my course work. This will sound familiar to many of you as it’s a pretty classic depression story.

Finding Help

Luckily, being a psych major and pre-med, I was able to realize through the emotional fog that something was not right and that I needed help.  I didn’t feel like I could talk to anyone about it, so one day I did an internet search for campus mental health. Even back then the internet was how you found out about most things. I managed to make my way to campus mental health services, which at the time was a really small office. I filled out an electronic survey in the lobby and was then seen by a psych student.  This one day was so taxing at the time that I spent the whole next day in bed.  

I was diagnosed with major depressive disorder (MDD) and started on an antidepressant and a short stint of counseling. After several weeks, miraculously it seemed, my mood started to lift, and light slowly started to trickle into the dark hole I had been at the bottom of.  I remember walking home from class one day and suddenly realizing that I felt okay. The sun was shining, it was warm and it made me kind of smile. This felt so foreign to my face that it was kind of jarring, and this is when I knew that things were turning around.

Returning from the fog

I think I did a total of 12 weeks of counseling (which I now realize is a pittance), and was on the medication for about a year.  My PCP eventually started prescribing the medication as mental health services did not have the funding to keep seeing me.  After a year I was weaned off the medication, and was very lucky not to have another major depression episode for almost 8 years. 

I definitely had ups and downs, but I had a strong group of friends that really supported me during this time. This really made a difference for me.  My last two years of college were spent with 5 amazing roommates whom I remain close to even today.  Still, when I look back at the treatment I received I have mixed feelings. I am both thankful that a resource existed to help me, and kind of shocked that such a small amount of treatment worked. This would not be the case in the future, but more on that later.