How I got help with depression

This post is written for anyone who may be having some feelings of depression and is wondering what to do about it. This post is long because I want to share enough details that you can maybe find some commonalities and learn from my experiences. I want to tell you what I wish I had been told back when I started feeling depressed in college: Your feelings are real. Your pain is not your fault. You deserve help; you deserve better than this from life. Not only is it okay to get help but it is actually a good, smart, productive thing to do. Please go for it!

I first experienced depression in the wake of my parents' divorce when I was in 1st and 2nd grade. I remember very little of the pain I felt (this, I imagine, is when I first became adept at blocking my emotions), but I do remember that at that young age I considered myself depressed. I didn't receive any treatment at that time, but upon moving to a new town in 3rd grade my circumstances improved and I became much happier. I still tended toward loneliness, self-criticism, and intense feelings of guilt. Nonetheless, I had enough going for me that these tendencies were not debilitating, and I had increasing hope for the future.

My depression came back during my first year of college, and since then it has been seeping in and out of my life with increasing frequency and duration. In other words, I've had depression for the large majority of the last six years. Yet I've only sought serious, sustained treatment for my depression during the past two years.

I waited so long because I didn't believe that I deserved treatment. I believed that I was at fault for not overcoming my problems--if I just tried harder, worked harder, exercised more, studied more, had more self discipline, was more likeable, did more extracurriculars, applied to more internships, was thinner (read: prettier), was more cultured, was wittier, had better social skills--then my problems would be fixed. Sometimes I managed to voice a counternarrative in my head that would say "Kate, you're not actually a bad person," but I rarely actually believed those words. Attempts at compassion toward myself were always overwhelmed by guilt--"Kate, you're just being too easy on yourself; you should work harder; you should be able to fix these problems." Going to therapy seemed like giving myself undeserved, wasteful attention; antidepressants were nowhere on my radar.

I also doubted that my depression was real. Early on in my college years I did not know that my feelings of emptiness, guilt, and apathy were symptoms of depression. Thus, I only paid attention to my pain when it came in the form of sadness or hopelessness.

Twice, in the midst of episodes of deep sadness and hopelessness, I sought out therapy. Both times, I went to the free counseling services for people affiliated with the university. I saw my first therapist during the winter of my first year of college. The therapist was very kind and had a few helpful suggestions, but I left the sessions feeling somewhat unsatisfied. I knew we weren't getting at the heart of the matter, and I felt like she never quite understood what I was trying to express. After several weeks, as I started to feel better (thanks to my social science class and the onset of spring), I decided to stop going. I tried counseling again my second year, briefly meeting with an academic counselor to help me stop procrastinating and focus better. Again, I found the counseling to be mildly helpful, but because it was limited to the subject of academics, I didn't feel like I was getting to the root of my problems.

Both of my first attempts at therapy were relatively unsuccessful because I did not know that I was allowed to try different therapists until I found a good fit. Here's what I needed to know and want you to know so you can have a better experience than I did: when you're trying out a new therapist, after your first session, sit down with yourself and think: do I feel like they were able to challenge me in a helpful way? Did I get something out of that? Do I think I could develop a connection with them/feel safe with them? If the answer is primarily "no", then politely call and cancel the next appointment/ask to see a different therapist at that facility/try a therapist at a different facility. If the answer is "I'm not sure" or "yes", then try another session with them and see how you feel at that point. If at any point you become uncomfortable with your therapist, it is okay to switch and try someone new. Therapy is for you. It is not your responsibility to try to avoid conflict or protect the feelings of the therapist; any good therapist will be professional about the situation if you want to see someone else. Therapy works best if you feel a good fit with your therapist, so keep trying until you find someone who you think can truly help you.

I didn't seek therapy again until the end of my fourth year in college, even though I experienced a lot of depression in the intervening two years. During this time I was no longer having many episodes of deep sadness and hopelessness; thus, I doubted that my depression was real. Every time I had a good week, or even just a good day, or even just a good afternoon, I would convince myself that my earlier feelings of emptiness, guilt, sadness, and lack of motivation were just "all in my head." I took online tests for depression time and again and consistently was told that I had depression, anywhere from "mild" to "severe." But my fear of being too easy on myself and getting therapy that I didn't deserve was so great that I doubted my results; I wondered if I had rated my symptoms too severely in order to give myself an "excuse" to say I had depression and get treatment.

Finally, after dozens of tests, countless hours logged on wikipedia and psychology websites, and endless conversations with my supportive and patient best friend, I began to believe that my depression was real. With only a couple of months remaining in Chicago, I went back to the student counseling center and worked up the courage to ask to see a different therapist. My request was met with grace, and I began seeing a new therapist. This therapist provided what I'd been longing for--he was incredibly smart but also compassionate, and he quickly picked up on what I was saying and helped illuminate the relationships between my feelings and experiences.

Unfortunately, I had to leave Chicago very soon after I started therapy again. A small part of my brain was telling me that I needed more of this kind of therapy, that I wasn't emotionally equipped to jump into teaching in struggling schools. But I was in no way able to let that thought fully speak, and I moved to New Mexico and began my life as a teacher.

Once I began teaching, I experienced the worst depression of my life. I needed immediate relief, so I started trying to find a therapist. I asked some people I worked with if they knew of any good therapists, and I searched on the internet for therapists in a city a couple of hours away. Unfortunately, because I was living in an isolated rural area, I suspected it would take me a long time to find a therapist who was a good fit, and I couldn't stand to wait that long. My mom and best friend started suggesting that I try antidepressants.

I was resistant to the idea of antidepressants for a couple of reasons. For one, I was worried about how they would make me feel; maybe I'd feel like a "zombie" or have bad side effects. I was also worried that taking anti-depressants was taking the "easy" way out, that it was somehow cheating. Luckily (?!), my pain was so bad that my resistance quickly faded. I made an appointment with a primary care physician in town and she wrote me a prescription for Lexapro.

Lexapro was a godsend. Within two weeks of starting Lexapro (it always takes a little time for antidepressants to build up in your system) I felt lightness of spirit again. Teaching was still incredibly difficult, but I did not dread every second of every day; the world was no longer entirely dark; I was able to see positives and look forward to things. I didn't feel falsely cheery or zombie-like; I just felt okay enough that I could live again, could have more good days than bad. The main side effect that I noticed was increased sleepiness. This was kind of helpful though, since I'd been having trouble sleeping and now was able to go to sleep instead of lying awake and worrying.

Lexapro made it possible for me to survive the schoolyear, but I was not able to do anything more than survive. Despite trying several therapists I was not able to find a good fit; the options were just too limited in such a rural area. I finally decided to focus fully on treating my depression, so at the end of the year I moved to Oakland, CA.

I want to suggest a couple of methods for how to find a good therapist. If you are lucky enough to know someone who has a good therapist, ask them to get recommendations from their therapist. My friend in Oakland had a therapist he was very happy with, and she offered to call me to discuss my options. She looked at therapists on my current insurance plan to see if she could recommend any of them, and she also recommended a sliding-scale clinic in Berkeley. I chose to try the sliding scale clinic because I did not want my ability to see my therapist to be dependent on my insurance (and thus my current job.) I ended up getting matched up with a fantastic therapist who I have been with since. (Based on the wage I was making as a legal assistant, 17.50 an hour, my sliding-scale price per session is $65.)

If you do not know anyone to ask for recommendations, call the local university's counseling department. Explain that you are new in town and are looking for recommendations for a therapist. I've done this a couple of times to help friends find a therapist or a sliding-scale clinic, and the people I've talked to have always been very willing to help.

I've been seeing my current therapist for over six months now, and I feel like I am finally making true headway on recovering from depression. I have also more recently made a change to my antidepressants. My therapist began to wonder if my antidepressants were doing all they could for me because I had some persistent systems, most importantly a tiredness that would not go away even when I was taking good care of myself. I thus saw a psychiatrist and was prescribed Welbutrin in addition to Lexapro. Since I've started Welbutrin my energy levels are much higher, and I have seen a large increase in my ability to motivate myself to do things and engage with the world around me.

I now recognize that the depression I have experienced for the past six years is, in fact, real, and that nothing in my life is more important than recovering from it. I see depression almost as a physical presence in my life. This visualization helps me to recognize how serious the thing I'm up against is, which in turn gives me more power and determination in fighting it. I know from hard experience that if I deprioritize my mental health before I am healed I will end up right back where I started. The depression is there and it HAS to be dealt with.

Saying those words gives me a great deal of satisfaction and peace, because they mean that I have finally accepted the importance of loving and caring for myself.

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If you're having any of the thoughts or feelings I described here, I deeply encourage you to reach out. Reaching out might mean starting by telling someone in your life what you're going through; it might mean visiting a doctor and telling them about your symptoms to see if antidepressants could help; it might mean calling your local university to start searching for a good therapist. If you can take any lesson from my experience, I hope that it is this: blaming yourself for your problems will only paralyze your attempts to move forward. True, it is your responsibility to do what you can to help yourself get better, but you did not choose to have these problems in the first place. Depression is an illness, and like any person facing a major illness, you deserve to get treatment. Not only is it okay to get help but it is actually a good, smart, productive thing to do. Please go for it!