Candace: We lost someone last week, an icon of comedy. There have been 100’s of posts, tributes and commentary dedicated the recent loss of Robin Williams. Although many of us have laughed along with him in his many comedic satires for most of us we were blinded by his talents to see the pain and struggle of his disease. Yes, depression, much like Infertility is a disease that many fail to name as a disease.
Sadly, both of these unnoticed diseases are symbiotic. They feed off each other. Now, Robin Williams never struggled with infertility to our knowledge, but it was a shock to us all when we heard about the sad news of his passing and his long fight with depression. For many of us years negative tests, appointments, baby showers and financial strain can chip away at your will and mental grounding. The feelings of failure compound over time making you feel like a walking anchor. I remember those days when leaving the couch covered in my sea of tissues was near to impossible. For me though, I was one of the lucky ones, I had Chris. He would just fill up my wine glass and listen. He would hold me when the crying got too deep. He would help us, key word US, find a new plan to help restore hope again. Failure after failure.
I recently came across a Facebook post in a Resolve support online support group right after the media fires spread and opened the discussion of how depression can affect infertility. It could not have been worded more perfectly. She ended it with this quote:
“In your darkest hour may the road lead you to light. When you can’t find light may you find hope. When you can’t find hope may you find help.”
Sometimes hope is not always enough. Sometimes if you just ask, help is your saving grace.
Chris: I am a man. Far too tough to suffer from depression or any other psychological disease. That is something that lesser people, lesser men, deal with … I think that for guys, that is sort of an undercurrent. We can’t be depressed, we can’t cry, we can’t be out of sorts. Well, that does not seem to be the hand that I have been dealt. Psychological diseases do have a hereditary nature, although it is not exclusively hereditary, and I have several family members that have faced the beast that is depression directly. I, personally, suffer with anxiety and panic attacks. If you have never had one, let me paint this scenario for you:
Thanksgiving, a few years back. We just had a failed IVF attempt and found out in far too public of a way, that someone very close to us was expecting. Candace, fell apart, uncontrollably crying, unable to even spell the word composure, much less retain hers. To make the situation worse, those around us had no idea why Candace would react this way and saw no irony in the fact that this was an unplanned pregnancy where our attempts were everything but. We drove home shortly after that and Candace threw up on the way home from the depth of pain she was feeling from it not being us that were sharing that news. Now, through all of this, what is my role, support right? I need to be the rock. I need to be the one that comforts Candace and says, we will get through this. Push down what I feel, right now I am in caring husband mode. We get home. We talk, Candace cries but wrestles her demons of hurt back down, and we try to go to bed, only suddenly I can’t sleep. I am restless, but it is way more than that. My heart is beating, my airway is constricting, and my mind is going in 10,000 different directions. Candace asks what’s wrong and I get up to go to our bathroom. I am sitting on our toilet, not going to the bathroom (really guys … going to the bathroom … why would I detail that, a little interjection of humor), but sitting on the toilet lid. I couldn’t quite my mind. I had this worry that I would get out of control. That somehow I would uncontrollably hurt myself. I was worried to swallow for fear of choking, worried too deep for fear of not being able to exhale, worried to breathe too shallow for fear of not getting enough oxygen and passing out. I was worried I would have a heart attack or aneurysm or both. I was worried that in some fit of psychosis I would grab a knife from the kitchen, which was over 50 feet away, and fall and inadvertently impale myself. All rationality had left me and I felt alone. That my friends is a panic attack.
I never had one of those before our IF throes. I am not a control freak of others but definitely a control freak of myself. I don’t like losing control of my thoughts, my mobility, or my options for a place to reside (slight claustrophobia I suppose). With IF though, so much is out of your control and I think, coupled with my hereditary predisposition for psychological illness, this has caused me to lose the appropriate control on anxiety and panic emotions. This is actually closely related to depression and many people suffering from depression have anxiety attacks and vice versa.
So now what? I had panic attacks driving to work, flying on airplanes, and apparently, as a result of Thanksgiving dinner. Give up right? Don’t fly, drive over water, or eat turkey. What do you all think WE did? Let me stress the “WE” part. We, as in Candace and I together, faced this. Candace was amazing at accepting what would be considered an irrational train of thought. She was great at enabling me to seek out help and accommodating to me when I would have a panic attack and NEEDED her to be there for me. If you are going through something like this, whether it be depression anxiety or whatever, there is always a path that leads to a “WE” being able to cope. Please look for that! Anyway, we did not lay down. I went to a psychiatrist, got some medication to help combat the chemical imbalance in my brain (hence the disease part of this folks), and talk regularly with our counselor as issues arise. Did any of these things fix me? Nope. Do I still get anxious and have panic attacks? Yep. But, I have coping mechanisms, the medication helps to diminish the severity of them, and I know I have support for all of these things. In short, it is a part of me. I accept it and keep moving forward. At one point, I didn’t know if I would ever be able to fly again. I am happy to report that I have flown across country several times. I have had panic attacks on airplanes, but I am able to recover because I have found great coping mechanisms.
Candace is eye-ballin’ me because I am writing too much. Running away so I can squeeze a few more sentences in though, let me say this. I have faced many of the dark sides of depression and psychological illness either directly or through very close family members. From all of that, I can say that I know the impact that irrational, irreversible decisions, like Robin Williams suicide, have on those around you. Believe me that, even in your darkest moment, nothing is worth ceasing to exist for. Always know that there is a “WE” path and you truly never are alone in your battle to maintain a reason to live. If you do reach the point that you feel this not to be the case, consider this: the very fact that you have reached this nexus of decision makes you an invaluable person. Being able to talk to others about how you came to this moment and were able to move beyond it can and will inspire others to do the same.
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Great post! Some terrible things have been said about Robin Williams, following his death. It’s good to have people educating and sharing about depression and how it could feel to have been in his shoes. After more than 6 years (so far of infertility, I understand what I strain it can be. I wish you the best.
Great post, guys. Thanks for sharing a little bit more about your struggles and for offering hope and encouragement to other people.