What’s the purpose of all this?
After discussing with a few people the journey that I have been on, clawing my way out of depression, I quickly realised that there was far too much to explain all at once, too many digressions and too much background required to adequately make my point.
As such I’ve used the skills available to me to produce a website which outlines my journey, all the steps, trips, and happy accidents along the way that have helped me to somewhat rebuild my life.
Look, I am by no means a medical professional.
I’m just a miserable bloke who suffered from severe clinical depression my entire life.
And I am by no means suggesting that my depression has been magically cured, for a while there, it certainly seemed to be the case, and I was ecstatic about the future which lay ahead of me, however maintaining that level of unexpected joy has indeed been a struggle unto itself, albeit an incredibly rewarding one.
But I have gone from being completely bed bound, barely eating nor bathing, wishing for, researching and actively planning my own death each and every day, to someone who has since then taken huge strides in rebuilding my life, my home, and my self, from the ground up.
I’ve been able to leave my bed.
To rewire my circadian rythmm from nocturnal to diurnal.
To introduce new foods into my diet, after a lifetime of battling Avoidant/Restrictive Food Intake Disorder (ARFID)
To hiking over 600km in a year, as well as conquering literal mountains multiple days a week.
To refurbishing my home, letting go of a hoarding mentality and stripping entire rooms bear, repainting and refurnishing them from spaces that were horrific to be in to spaces that bring comfort and joy.
To being capable of actually feeling comfort and joy.
and so, so much more…
The purpose of this site and it’s content is to document that journey, and the steps that helped me, in the hopes that this information may somehow be useful to someone else.
When I would read stories of others who had beaten their depression, desperate for some kind of clue, I would inevitably end up LOATHING them.
Their flowery language, spiritual tripe, self-indulgent tangents….
I felt they hadn’t been really depressed, “not like me.“
Looking back, it seems such a self-indulgent melancholy.
But they had lives and family and friends and love, whereas I had no one, and nothing.
They sometimes had the benefit of a stable upbringing, or external support.
I didn’t.
It reinforced the idea that my situation was hopeless, that if they could suffer so harshly whilst having access to so many things which I didn’t, that surely there was no hope for me, and that as a result I would surely die by my own hand.
It isn’t entirely accurate, or entirely logical, but then neither is the brain when swimming in the decay of a severe depressive disorder.
And so there is a piece of me which thinks, that if I of all people can make progress, even accidentally, then surely there may be someone out there who could benefit from at least knowing not only that it occurred, but how it did so.
And if not, then so be it.
At least my awkward journey of happy accidents and surprising outcomes will have been documented, so that I may look back upon how far I’ve come, and how I got here.
If you are going to read forward, then I would urge you to do so as is traditional, in order, without skipping any chapters.
And so, I suppose the story begins, where many of them do….with a protagonist.
In this case, myself….
Prologue: The Author.