In the beginning.... A brief history of my early years with depression.

While I was in high school, signs of depression were clearly manifest. Depression runs in both of my parents' families and two of my brothers struggle with it as well. However, it wasn't until about 2 1/2  years after my husband and I were married that I was diagnosed with severe depression. We had been trying to get pregnant and as we continued to be unsuccessful, even while working with different doctors, I became more and more depressed.  My infertility was largely unexplained and several different doctors told me I probably would not conceive a child.* I felt a huge sense of loss which definitely compounded my depression. All my life I had dreamed of having children. I couldn't fathom life any other way.
*(Several years later I found out I have PCOS)

Nothing seemed to matter any more. I didn't feel like there was any point in living.  I was 'let go' from my job at Consumer Credit Counseling because of my erratic behavior which I was unable to explain to my boss.  I felt like nothing but a burden to my family, especially to my husband, Grant. He deserved to have a wife that was happy and productive.

Anti-depressants helped but as soon as I'd start to feel a little better I would stop taking them and end up worse off then when I started. Being stubborn, I did not want to be dependent on antidepressants.  Now I can clearly see how distorted my thinking was.  I just felt deep and unrelenting sadness at the time....not to mention my overwhelming feelings of worthlessness. Life seemed unbearable and miserable. I truly thought that I would never be happy again.  

I started thinking a lot about death and dying. I did some very unreasonable and stupid things which I may talk about later. I was admitted to the psychiatric unit at LDS hospital for about 5 days. When I got home I felt even more depressed than when I went in and shorty after returning home I ended up back in the hospital for another 4-5 days. 

As much as I hated it, being in the hospital did help me come to an important and sobering realization. I knew that if I was going to get better it was going to be largely up to me and the decisions I made. At first this just made me more depressed and hopeless because I felt so weak and powerless.

A major turning point in my life happened when I was in a car accident in April of 1997. While coming down Parley's Canyon I went off the road and ran into the rock mountainside while going between 60-70 mph. When my car came to a stop it had flipped and landed on it's top. I hadn't been wearing my seat belt so I was laying on the inside roof of the car in shattered glass. I just laid there in shock for a few minutes. I couldn't believe I was still alive. Passing motorists called 911. I heard a policeman frantically calling for life flight outside. I was able to pull myself out of the broken window pretty much untouched. All I had was a bruise on my arm and a small scratch on my finger. This was no small miracle. It was at this point that I knew I was on this earth for a reason and if I wasn't going to have children I was going to find out what exactly Heavenly Father had in mind for me. I stopped basing my self worth on whether or not I could conceive. From the moment I had made up my mind about this, everything started to gradually get better.

What is important to realize here is the fact that being put on anti-depressants didn't take away my deep feelings of loss, my low self esteem, etc...They helped 'stabilize' the chemicals in my brain but it wasn't until I made up my mind about working towards progression and realizing my life had purpose, that I was able to move forward towards getting better. (For many people, talking to a therapist while taking anti-depressants is the combination that works best and will help get the person moving in the right direction.)