Counseling

Sometimes people with long-term health problems, like Sickle Cell, feel cheated in life. Perhaps you can relate to this and similarly feel cheated out of time with friends or out of the life you wish to live. I know how heavy these kinds of thoughts can weigh on the mind. Though these feelings may seem justified, take care in how you deal with them. Other wise you could find yourself, like Darth Vader, consumed by the dark side of the Force.

Talking with a psychologist—often called counseling—may be what you need to help in the coping process of living with Sickle Cell. Counseling and taking antidepressants often go hand in hand. A good psychologist can:

➢    Help you accept the fact that you live with a chronic illness
➢    Provide instruction on how to handle the physical and emotional pain you endure
➢    Be a person who will listen to your deepest concerns and fears without you having to worry about being judged by them
➢    Help you resolve any conflict you may have within yourself or with others.

When I was young, I thought counseling was for people who had a horribly abusive family life, for disturbed people who liked hurting animals, for psychopaths, lunatics, and for individuals whose father was also their uncle and their brother. I thought going to a psychologist meant there was really something wrong with you. I didn’t know everyday people often have things they need or should talk with a psychologist about. Nor did I understand how a psychologist could help average people come to terms with their problems.

When I was about thirty-one years old, I had a relapse in my depression that was largely triggered by staying on the antidepressant I had been taking for over three years, for too long a time. Unbeknownst to me, and overlooked by my doctors, two years was the maximum length of time I was supposed to be on that medication. This resulted in what my doctor called “the bottoming out” of that antidepressant. This is where the medication stops working and plunges you into a deeply depressed state. When this happened to me, it caused me to experience depression on a scale like nothing I’d ever gone through before.

I can only describe my experience as supercharged, mega-performance enhanced depression on steroids that threw me into a deep dark pit of emotional despair. It was a horrific event I don’t care to ever repeat. For one thing, those suicidal thoughts that had been absent for three years returned with a vengeance. Where I once only thought of ways to take my life, with this round of depression, images of actually taking my life played with vivid detail in my mind. They were powerful and intrusive images that I struggled to control. It took nearly a year of finding the right balance of antidepressants, at the proper dosage, accompanied with counseling before I felt I was back to being Jon, again.

The psychiatrist I was seeing during that hellish time helped me come to terms with the biggest issue I had about my depression, my need to take antidepressants. Before this incident occurred, though I had been taking an antidepressant for a few years, it never occurred to me that I might have a long term need for them. I hated the idea of always having to rely on medication to keep the depression away. However, I could not deny the fact that for over three years I lived without having daily thoughts of taking my own life; quite the opposite, I was happy to be alive. Eventually I accepted the truth that, like my pain pills and other medications, antidepressants were something I needed to some degree to stay mentally healthy.

With time, counseling, antidepressants, and much prayer I eventually recovered from that awful experience. There was a period during that time when I was taking three different antidepressants at once. Since my recovery, I’ve had no need for counseling and little need for antidepressants. (I say “little need” because the last of the antidepressants I’m taking is used to treat my insomnia more than my depression.) Additionally, the constant suicidal thoughts I once daily battled with, have long since fled. For nearly ten years, my enthusiasm for life has been . . . well . . . the only word I can think of is, wonderful.

Where I once was always angry and on edge, I’m now at peace. Where I once thought of all the different ways I could take my own life, I’m now happy to be alive. Where I once couldn’t imagine living another year, I now look forward to the years ahead of me.

If you’re at a place in your life where all you feel is darkness, sadness, emptiness, hopelessness, or have recurring thoughts of death and dying, listen to someone who has experienced it and get some help. For nearly eight years of my life I struggled daily to control my suicidal thoughts. For nearly eight years I believed it was just something I had to live with. For nearly eight years I was wrong by not admitting to myself that I needed help.

If you are silently experiencing something similar, please, know you don’t have to live like that. You can get help. It doesn’t mean you are weak and it doesn’t mean you can’t control your emotions. It may simply mean your body chemistry is out of balance or the electrical impulses in your brain aren’t firing properly. There is no cause to feel ashamed or embarrassed about that. Remember, depression is a disorder the same as Sickle Cell, and there’s no shame in it. Talk to your doctor so he/she can help you. You can find joy in life again. And life can be so very sweet.