It’s rare that I am become tongue-tied and inarticulate, but I have spent the last seven days trying to figure out the most poignant way to communicate this message. As it turns out, the only way is to just say it:
I have been diagnosed with clinical moderate depression.
It is a new diagnosis as of November 2013 and something I have just recently shared with my family and closest friends in the last few days. Why did it take me so long to share this information? Because mental illness is still taboo.
It’s really easy to keep up a façade of the outgoing, “together,” motivated person – for a while. I managed to do this for about a year … posting all sorts of fun things on Facebook, Tweeting about hobbies and interests, contributing to professional dialogues, traveling around the country to various conferences and professional meetings. But keeping up the façade is exhausting and contributes to the deepening of depression while behind the scenes the following is going on:
A backlog of unread and unreturned emails.
Voicemail which is full. Phone calls not returned.
Projects for clients not turned in.
Not talking to friends on a regular basis.
Cancelling plans at the last minute.
Failure to work on a dissertation.
Avoiding the “to do” list.
That’s when you can’t ignore the problem any longer. People start to ask if you are “okay” via emails and phone calls you don’t return because you can’t bring yourself to say, “No, I’m not okay. I am not myself. I’m sinking.”
So I first had to admit it to myself and then seek help from medical professionals. Mental illness is still taboo and therefore it took me over a year to be able to take those two critical steps.
As a result, I have a lot of fences to repair – both social and professional – as I work through to a healthier place. I owe a lot of apologies and need to ask for an overwhelming amount of forgiveness. I can’t expect it, but I am hopeful.
I decided to “come out” publicly because I want to be a part of a cultural change around issues of mental illness. I want to live in a society that I can tell colleagues and friends that I have depression as easily as we tell them that we have the stomach flu. I want to live in a society where colleagues and friends are able to support people with mental illness with the compassion they care for those with cancer.
It’s not Yom Kippur, but I am seeking forgiveness from all of those I have hurt, disappointed, confused, frustrated and angered these past 18 months or so.
JewishGPS 
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