I can’t say that I’m grateful that I’ve experienced mental illness. Waging a war of one, where no one wins, is exhausting and all-encompassing.

Depression, to the uninitiated, is far more than feeling down. I would liken it to drowning, with lungs that refuse to give in. It is relentless and tortuous, and the only distraction is your thoughts. The most horrid thoughts you would ever hope to think. Thoughts that leave you wondering why you exist and, in my case, whether the people who love me might be better off if I did not.

These recurring thoughts almost became an action. An action that would have left lifelong scars within those who have blessed me with their love. I won’t elaborate here, as I’ve discussed this in blogs and posts over the years, but I was as close as I ever wish to be to taking that final step.

I’m much better these days, but that dark period came with a lesson. It  rewired my brain and I now knew, truly understood, what it meant to be mentally ill. That understanding carried its own power.

Having been in that mental space, I learned how easily others might find their way there. I also learned I was no longer afraid of deep and dark conversations with those who were also considering leaving the world behind.

This helped me become a force for good and, on occasion, to help others confront these thoughts and seek the help they needed.

When people open up about these thoughts, there is often a knee-jerk reaction to urge them to reflect on the good, to focus on happy things, and to remind them how much they have to live for. To a depressed mind, this seldom helps.

What does help is listening, and I mean truly listening. At my lowest, I did not need a chat. I just needed to know I was not alone in this world and to accept that these feelings were for now, and not forever.

In time I felt empowered to seek help, and found that through counselling and the support of my wife I was able to find my way back to me.

I hope I never again find myself beneath the waves of those dark waters, but for now I’ll continue to swim – and teach others how to stay afloat.