Rates of depression and anxiety are skyrocketing; both intentional suicides and overdoses are rising sharply; loneliness is shooting up as the number of close friends people have continues to fall; people are waiting longer to get married and have kids if at all. While this mental health epidemic impacts all demographics, it might be surprising to learn it’s been especially pronounced in men living in the United States. This brief snapshot paints a grim picture with complex socioeconomic factors exacerbating existing issues and creating new ones. However, I’d like to make things a little more personal and share a brief synopsis of my own journey, a bit for personal catharsis though writing and also in the hopes it may illuminate, or help guide others on their journeys, to let them know they are not alone.

In October it will be three years since I took my last pill for anxiety and depression. I quit for a number of reasons some of which I wrote about years ago at this point. If I recall correctly, just the road getting to that point took about a year of slowly cutting back the milligrams. Since I’d be feeling shitty anyway, I took this time to quit nicotine, pot, and caffeine. After that, it took maybe another year where it felt like relearning just how to breathe. And after that it’s been a cycle of ups and downs, highs and lows. The low’s started off intensely terrible, a constant tightness in my chest, always short of breathe, surprise dizzy spells. During this time it became difficult to leave the house, let alone talk to people, without the sensation of panic overwhelming me, then Covid hit and further isolated me the world.

I spent months bingeing on various streaming services while I slowly struggled on my good days to readjust to simple existence. Even before this time circumstances kept weathering me down where I consistently kept losing creativity, confidence, and becoming more alienated from both people and myself. I haven’t written anything like this in over three years, it also takes far more effort to organize my thoughts into a well structured format. Thankfully, nueroplasticity is a thing and mental atrophy need not be permanent.

The latest symptoms in this readjustment journey have been persistent and intense, though they come and go. At least a year ago now, I finally started getting out again, walking, working out, seeing people. And then I needed a filling – something I’ve done before with no problem, something that cognitively I knew would be quick and mostly painless if a little uncomfortable, But that’s not how my brain wanted to react, it could not tell the difference between a trip to the dentist and being drafted to fight in a warzone. I never liked needles, or drills, but now they filled me with abject terror. My therapist at the time suggested I play the scenario in my head and look at it rationally. Sometimes that helped. Other times I kept running the scenario in my head over and over in an attempt to convince myself of the mundane and harmless nature of the situation. It distracted me from enjoying or focusing on other things and took over six moths before I managed to set up and follow through with the appointment. I even took a pill to help calm me down for a few appointments- the first time it actually made me feel worse.
Then I stumbled across a post talking about Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. And it sounded like me. In fact, the constant visualizing of going to the dentist sounded much like a mental compulsive ritual. In fact, things I’ve done on and off my entire life kept checking off OCD boxes. Before this revelation, I’d never recognized intrusive thoughts as such, they were always just thoughts. Somethings would just get stuck in my brain and would not leave, they’d play over and over in my head just like the dentist.
At this point I felt annoyed, then angry. Are you telling me that for thirty fucking years I may have had some form of OCD and not one doctor picked up on it? With more digging, considering the previous diagnoses and the suspiciousness of the often non-repeating nature of those diagnoses, it really seemed as though mental health disorders and nuerodivergence truly exist on a spectrum; a conclusion others have had long before me to be sure, but a realization the left me feeling frustrated at being placed within singular boxes that would only describe and address certain aspects while leaving others completely unseen then left to undermine any progress.

Although I’d still like to be more active and sharp, even though it’s taking much longer than I’d like, I continue to making progress – slow and tedious as it might be. Turns out, one of the best things you can do with these thoughts is to not fight them, just accept and agree with them then move on. While that’s much easier said than done, it actually does help and many of my recent good days can attributed to this practice. I’m finally feeling a desire to do things with increasing energy to do them, to set goals beyond getting out of bed. This is a necessary journey, but certainly one where if it were possible to skip past all the lows, to jump to the part where the highs aren’t just a reprieve from tension and anhedonia, but enjoyment, instead of the snails trek over a mountain I certainly would.

As much as I have criticisms for both individual doctors and the mental health industry as a whole, both are absolutely crucial and when at their best can save lives. At the same time, it’s also crucially important for you to do some of your own research and be your own advocate.It’s important to realize the amount of effort it can take to overcome these issues and for too many it’s too much. I’ve also been incredibly lucky that I have a support system that’s allowed me to undertake this long journey, many people will not have that option. I can’t promise you that you’ll find the light at the end of the tunnel, you may struggle yet never find that light – there’s no shame in that, the world can be tough to navigate without having to fight battles in your own mind. What I can promise is that you definitely wont find that light if you don’t keep fighting for as long as you can in every way that you can.

~David T.K.~