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What got me going again
Originally appeared on spirituality.com
One thing I remember about depression is that no one understood me. There’s this expectation you’ll just snap out of it—keep the same life, but maybe work in more fun or take a pill. I found this response made things worse for me. Whenever I encountered it, I felt more isolated and even began to feel suicidal.
I watched lots of reruns for a few years and slept a lot. Eventually though, I found a friend—reading. Some of it was escapist stuff, but later, I turned to self-help titles. From this reading, I found that I wanted a better life.
With books, I could take from them what I wanted. For some reason, I had a problem with thinking of drugs as a solution, so I rejected the books that pushed medication. I was convinced the problem was internal—in a place that drugs can’t reach. It related to my role in life, my place in the universe. I didn’t need a pill but a reason to get going again.
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