Depression Can Be Fun Magazine Interviews
Prima Magazine
You CAN beat DEPRESSION – we did!
One in four women* will suffer from depression at some point in their lives, but you can come out the other side…
At any one time, 11 percent of women in Britain are being treated for depression. And men aren’t immune, either – research suggests that with many losing their jobs in the ‘mancession’, one in ten will be treated for it at some point, too.
As psychotherapist Marisa Peer (http://www.marisapeer.com) explains: ‘We’re bombarded by headlines about house prices and unemployment. Lack of hope is one of the biggest triggers.
‘Equally, we live in a materialistic society, where people believe that if only they had the new Prada handbag or a bigger house, they’d be happy.’
Bridget O’Connell, of mental-health charity Mind, says that there are more demands than ever on women to have it all, too. ‘Sleep, rest and time to pursue our own interests are vital to good mental health,’ she says. If we try to cram everything in, it’s not surprising that we end up burned-out and feeling low.’
The answer, believes Marisa, is to find joy within ourselves. ‘The smallest things can make you happy. Relish what you do have and what is attainable. And if you’re depressed, force yourself to get up and exercise. It might seem impossible, but if you can do it, it will help.’
‘I blew £1/2 million trying to make myself feel better’
HELEN MCNALLEN, 43 a mental-health campaigner, lives in Sheffield, South Yorks
‘My depression started in 1998 when I was working as a financial trader, earning £200,000 a year and happily married to Duncan. I worked long hours, sometimes from 5am till 10pm – it was stressful and I was exhausted. Depression crept up on me; I could go to work, but do little else.
I started cancelling all social arrangements and spent my entire weekends at home. I’d leave work and start imagining myself jumping under a bus to end it all – it was as if a big, black cloud was following me around. I thought I was just tired; it never occurred to me that I had depression. To me, that was something only “weak” people had. How wrong I was.
I realised I needed help when my dad cut his finger one day and I broke down, saying he was going to die – I just couldn’t stop crying. That was in the spring of 1999, and I signed off work for two weeks, presuming that with a bit of rest, I’d be fine.
And indeed, after two weeks, I went back to work, armed with antidepressants. But by 2000, I couldn’t cope, and one day, I drove to the highest building in Wandsworth, south London, planning to jump off it. But I realised it wasn’t tall enough and thought I might end up in a wheelchair, which would have been worse. I went home, buried myself in my duvet and cried. I thought I’d never stop. Duncan was already very worried about me and, though he was working away, he’d call me all the time to check I was OK. When I didn’t answer the phone that day, he came straight home to look after me. He was the one who told me I needed to get help. It was the beginning of a very dark six years. I spent days lying in bed sobbing, I couldn’t work, or be a wife. I put on 4st through misery-eating and couldn’t find joy in anything. I went into hospital and tried all sorts of antidepressants. I even had electroconvulsive therapy (ECT) at one point, but nothing worked. It was only after my second suicide attempt in July 2003, when I swallowed five packets of Valium and woke up in hospital, that I had an epiphany-like experience, I realised I was tired of feeling depressed. I hadn’t died, and rather than being sorry about it, I was glad. I wanted to get better. After six weeks sectioned in hospital, I was allowed out. And a year later, under medical supervision, I started weaning myself off all medication taking herbal supplements and pharmaceutical-grade Vegepa omega-3 fish oils, which were recommended by my psychiatrist and worked much better for me.
By 2005, I’d managed to stop taking antidepressants. I also got a dog, started exercising and lost the weight I’d gained. Sadly, my marriage didn’t survive – Duncan was endlessly supportive, but in the end, he became the carer and I was the victim, and we couldn’t sustain a marriage in those roles.
By 2006, I had recovered enough to go back to work. I gave up my job in banking and set up my website, http://www.depressionanbefun.com, writing a book with the same title. I know depression isn’t funny; I lost my job, marriage and almost lost my friends and home. But I feel that helping to break the stigma will make people feel more comfortable about seeking help.
And there were funny things about it. I became addicted to shopping and broke out of hospital to go shopping in Harvey Nichols, blowing £600 on lingerie. I was furious when I was escorted back to hospital and it was lost! I spent a fortune on antiques that I knew nothing about, I even agreed to elope with an antiques dealer – thankfully, I didn’t! In total, I blew £500,000 in four years.
They were hideous times, but now I can laugh about them. And I believe laughter is one of the best antidotes to depression – I’m proof that with diet, exercise, laughter and the right help, you can get through it.’
Are you depressed?
We all feel fed up sometimes but these feelings usually last for a couple of days or weeks at the most. Perhaps you have been feeling like this for longer.
We have designed a test to give you some indication.
