Reflection on depression

I've been doing some reflecting on where my life has taken me over the last few years. (Me? Introspective and reflecting on something? That must mean today's date ends in a number!)

I actually was going to post something along these lines last week for my 3 year blogoversary, but I opted not to. But anyway...

There have been a number of relatively major events in my life the past few years (in no semblance of order): Employment; getting a place without a roommate; graduating from undergrad; starting law school; relationships; breakups; injuries; and so on. But the one major thing that has changed me was my battle with depression.

While depression itself was horrible, it is clear that, on balance, I like myself better after depression than before. I like how I interact with the world better. I like my perspective better now. I like my broadened ability to communicate and understand people. I even like the fact that depression is what helped escort me out of being a practicing musician and ushered me into law school in hopes of being a part of the business side of the industry.

(I do not like how I interact with myself now as compared to pre-depression, however. I find that I have much less self-confidence, self-assurance, and a more fragile sense-of-self as compared to before, but my insecurities are for a discussion of another time, likely non-blogosphere'd)

I find that depression has completely helped shape who I have become. As I've watched friends talk about and go through battles of their own, I can't help but be a little bit thankful that I've gone through it. I relate to it. I can help -- not because I actually can help, but because I can empathize as well as sympathize and can be not just a shoulder to cry on, but a shoulder that's been through the fire.

As for interacting with those who go through it or have gone through it, I was struck by something today when having a conversation with someone with whom I had not had a conversation with in years, and most certainly have not interacted with since even entering depression, let alone exiting. In giving the readers digest version of my last few years, I mentioned my battle with depression -- which I usually do, because it is impossible to fully explain how I went from where I was to where I am without it. Her response to the words "battled depression" was "I'm sorry."

Now for better or worse, my response to someone talking about depression is usually not "I'm sorry." Maybe it's because I do not feel pity, as I am not sorry that I went through depression since I think it changed me for the better. Maybe it's because I know that "I'm sorry" is usually empty language that we're taught to say. But usually, it's because I'm too busy saying "are you okay now?" or "is there anything I can do?" or, if it's someone with whom I'm really close, asking about their battle and their story. (I am, as we've determined, a story whore, after all...)

In line with my dark sense of humor, this person mentioned the process of trying to figure out life. I couldn't help myself; I said: "Might I recommend depression? It's a great way to find yourself."

I lost myself for a while, but I've found myself, and I'm happy with where I am. I wouldn't be here without depression, and i wouldn't have found myself without it, either.