How I won against my mental illness

Good to know before you read this article: What is depression?
To me, depression is like a little monster that develops in the back of your mind. It whispers negative thoughts to your mind and you repeat them as if you were thinking them. And the more you listen to it the more it grows, and the more it grows the more in control it will be. If it develops for many years, the person dealing with it will most likely only be in control a fraction of moments in their life. Also, when a traumatic event happens to them, depression will most likely take complete control of their mind; they are still in there somewhere, they are aware of things, but can’t really control what they say or think anymore.

Any negative thought or negative presence in the person’s life will become a bridge for depression to take control. It takes advantage of these opportunities because that’s when you’re more likely to listen to it.

It is very unlikely that someone who hasn't experienced this mental illness will actually understand it. You need to have a very open mind to wrap all of this around your head. Also, know that everyone with this mental illness will experience it differently, and some may also have different definitions as to what it is.

· Let me share with you how my depression developed and took control over me (If you just want to know how I won the battle against it, skip to the next part):

I have suffered from depression for 15 years, probably longer, but at age 8 was when it really started to affect me. It didn’t take too long for it to become severe, but as I didn’t know anything about mental illnesses back then, I talked to no one about it. Being surrounded by a lot of negativity and arguments, depression (which I named Amnet, by the way) took advantage of every little opportunity it had to get into my head and grow.

Soon, I became the saddest and most negative person I know. I was already suicidal when I was 8 years old. I had two suicide attempts between the ages 8 and 10/11, but no one knew about them because what I drank did absolutely nothing to my body. When I was 10, I adopted my son, a lovely Chihuahua; he was the only thing keeping me going and helped me battle my suicidal thoughts by wanting to stay here to give him a better life (that became my only purpose in life).

A lot happened that made my depression worse and worse until it was in control of me at least 90% of the time. At one point, though, when I was 21, I auto-analyzed myself and learnt to differentiate between Amnet’s thoughts and mine. This helped me for a little bit, but depression didn’t take long to take control again. I went to therapy not for long and it didn’t help at all. I went to the psychiatrist who prescribed me depression pills; it made me better for some time, but then I was unable to keep taking them for personal reasons and I fell into the same hole again.

The time arrived when my son passed away, just a month ago when he was 12 (a month away from his 13th birthday). He had cancer and it had damaged more than 80% of his liver; in his last day, I watched him have several seizures until he was no longer there, his body moved involuntarily only. Before his mind left his body, he gave me one last look, a look I didn’t recognize from him, I assumed he was saying goodbye. Right after he passed, I had the worst mental breakdown I had ever had. Until my mind gave up and I entered a stage in which neither I nor Amnet was in control.

The following days I thought I was taking it well, until one day I had to leave work early due not feeling well mentally and went to the psychiatrist again, who said I needed to be hospitalized. I don’t remember anything about that time, but by what I was told, I was in the clinic for almost a week and had a kind of therapy where they electroshocked my brain. When I regained consciousness, I was not much better.

Amnet continued to be in control and kept telling me that my son’s last look was him telling me to go with him; until I could no longer bare the pain without my son to keep me going. So I gave in and had my third suicide attempt. This time, though, my sister had to call 911 and I ended up in the hospital again. I was discharged to go home the same day, but didn’t regain consciousness until the day after. I was forced to stay at my mother’s house for the following days as I could not be trusted to be alone. I was not happy that my attempt was unsuccessful and Amnet was already telling me to attempt again soon, to which I agreed.

My parents own a ranch away from the city, in which they spend most of their time. They took me with them to spend some days there to disconnect my mind and connect with nature. Amnet was still almost in complete control, but the next part is how I managed to hold on to the little part that was left of me to kick Amnet’s butt.

· How did I manage to gain control again?
It was completely random for me, to be honest. I was sitting under a tree, feeling the breeze in a really hot day. Suddenly, my mind felt at peace and I felt connected with nature. I took advantage of the moment and started to auto-analyze myself again, as it had been a while since I’d done it. I realized that I no longer had the power to tell when it was me or Amnet talking inside my head, but at that time it definitely sounded like me.

A thought came to me “I am Not who I have become”. I kept repeating it in my head, but at the same time, I kept asking myself “who am I?”, “who am I without Amnet?”, “who am I without my son?”, “do I have a life without him?”.

I definitely had no idea what the answer to any of these questions were; so I dug as far into my memory as I could to remember a time when Amnet was not there. It was really hard, but I made myself remember the times when I was genuinely happy. Any type of memory would help: playing around with my siblings as a kid, reading a good book, playing on a swing, and the most powerful of all memories: when I first met my son.

Then I asked myself “how did you see life during those moments?” to which I replied “with joy, hope and love” and suddenly… I knew who I was again. I held on as tight as I could to those happy memories and to how I saw life and described to myself who I am until I believed it. “I am a person full of love, who enjoys living and is ambitious to accomplish new goals.” I also repeated several affirmations such as “I am enough”, “I am loved”, “I have good people in my life”, “good energy surrounds me”.

At the end of this process, is like I woke up being a complete different person. Amnet was nowhere to be heard. I was technically my 7 year old self, but with my adult mind. I also interpreted my son’s last look as “Please keep going and have a great life until it’s time to meet again”, because that sounds a lot more like my son than what Amnet tried to tell me. I understood that people don’t have only one purpose in life; my first purpose (to give my son a good and long life) was accomplished, but I’m sure that’s not my only purpose.

Amnet sometimes still tries whispering negative thoughts, but I have kept a positive mind and ignored them. In fact, anything Amnet says, I turn it into a positive affirmation. Example: “You’re alone in this world” to “I have several people in my life who care about me and love me”.

I truly hope this same method can help others. Let’s make a simple recap so you know what to do if you have my same illness:

Understand that who you are now is not yourself, you are being controlled by your mental illness and you need to break out of it.

Make sure you are in a quiet and peaceful place, and find a moment where you’re not filled with negativity. Dig as deep as you can to find genuinely happy memories and hold on to them. See through the same eyes as the happy person in your memories: What do you see? What do you feel? How do you see life?

Hold on to your answers and find out who you really are without your mental illness.
Battle all negative thoughts with positive affirmations and do not give in to the negative voice in your head.

· Please remember:
Someone who took their own life didn’t do it by their will, depression took control and they thought they didn’t have a choice. Mental illnesses take lives just as much as physical diseases do.