Grappling with Chronic Depression and Accepting the Reality of Life

I’ve struggled with depression and shame for as long as I can remember. That doesn’t mean I’ve lived in a deep depression every day of my life, it has waxed and waned for decades. But it wasn’t until I climbed out of my last hole that I fully understood the magnitude of what I was dealing with, at 41 years old.

The most deflating part of it all was realizing that on the other side of healing wasn’t this magical life of my dreams. For a long time, I believed that if I worked hard enough, healed deeply enough, and faced my shadows, I’d be rewarded with bliss. Maybe I needed that illusion, something to focus on through the darkness. Golden Shadows was born out of that journey: not promising sunshine and rainbows, but truth and freedom.

Riding the waves of depression

Grappling with Chronic Depression

On the other side of healing is reality, and accepting that took time. Unfortunately I wasn’t skipping through fields of tulips on my way to Oz. Life was still hard, just a different kind of hard. I wasn’t crippled by shame like I used to be, but it still lurked in the background. And depression? It was still there, too.

That truth pissed me off. I had worked so incredibly hard to claw my way out of hell, for this? That’s when I had to face what I had resisted all my life: my depression has always been there and I had been in denial. The shame that once paralyzed me, it was still there too, just less insidious.

When the fog of substances, denial, and old survival patterns finally cleared, I was left with an unshakable truth: I have always struggled with mental health and likely always will.

Acceptance as a Turning Point

You know what they say about denial right? It's not just a river in Egypt. And that truth hit me right between the eyes. How could I have spent most of my life in denial about my mental health? Why had I been so afraid of acknowledging that? For as long as I can remember, I would say things like, "I can handle it" or "if I just eat right and exercise I won't need medication" or "once I stop using I'll be fine." But the truth was, I was fine.

I've pushed through and masked for as long as I can remember but I could only run from the truth for so long. So I quit running. And when the dust settled, awareness rose. For the first time in my life, I could see things for what they truly were and there was nothing I could do any longer, but accept it.

This realization alone was disappointing, one might even say depressing. But it also gave me clarity on why I numbed myself in so many ways for so long. Substances, relationships, hard work, and the other miriad of ways I was overcompensating worked for a time, pulling me out of reality into a place that felt better.

The most consistent and successful tool I used to feel better was substances. They work really really well! Until, of course, they didn’t. Today, substances don’t work for me like they used to. What once seemed like a fail-proof solution is no longer an option. Two margaritas and I'm paying for it for days. And so I’ve had to lean into acceptance. Denial cost me the life I knew, more than once.

My life is not hopeless, it’s richer and more authentic than it has ever been. I am following my dreams. I have the most magnificent daughter, two loveable and annoying dogs, and a loving family. I know what lifts me up and what drags me down, and I try to honor that awareness daily, with plenty of grace for growth.

I try to limit social media, prioritize sleep, and eat well. I take my Wellbutrin, even if I’m not sure how much it helps. Most importantly, I reach out to a couple of trusted people when I feel especially low. And when I look at my daughter, my heart floods with love, and for a moment, the gray lifts.

Rewriting My Story

The work now isn’t about expecting miracles. It’s about reframing my inner dialogue. My inner critic was once cruel and relentless, today, she is quieter, more forgiving. Healing hasn’t erased depression or shame, but it has given me tools to meet them with honesty.

I am slowly healing. Slowly learning to love myself. Slowly accepting who I am. And slowly, with each breath and each choice, I am rewriting my story.

Living with chronic mental health issues doesn't mean my life is without joy, it just means I have to learn to embrace both the shadow and the light....to struggle is to be human.