I remember being 15 years old sitting in class on a Wednesday afternoon where the school would show an educational series near the end of the day. That day it was on symptoms of depression and I immediately identified with the majority of things being said. I told my parents who scheduled me an appointment to be assessed but it was suspected that it was medically induced by being put under for 3 surgeries that year (sinuses, wisdom teeth, and appendix).

While that might have been true at the time, as I moved into my late teens, I noticed a feeling of nervousness when I was around large groups of individuals and would not go to certain activities (football games, parties, dances, etc) because of how overwhelming the anxiety would be. However, even with that I could adapt my life to where it did not bother me too terribly bad… who wants to hang out with groups of people anyway…. Right?!?

Fast forward into my early to mid-20’s when I finally started to realize that there was something more going on than I wanted to admit. I moved to Louisiana to obtain my Master’s Degree and once I completed it, things started to take a turn. I moved back home to Mississippi for a few months then moved back to Louisiana where I took a job working in the youth court. I stayed there for 6 months and during that time I segregated myself from everyone other than work. I would come home to my dog Ceasar and watch television and finally fall asleep around 1 or 2AM then wake up, go to work.. rinse and repeat. It did not take long for me to spiral into a deep depression, but luckily I worked in the mental health field and realized I needed to make a change. So I interviewed for jobs back home and moved back home with my parents… because I can run from depression right?… Wrong!

I began gambling regularly because the adrenaline of winning money, bright lights, loud sounds, and constant interactions would increase my adrenaline and give me a period of time where I wasn’t thinking about my depression and was focusing on something else. That was temporary and a few years later I moved back to Louisiana to take a job paying more money.

Once again, I segregated myself and would go to work, come home to my dog… rinse and repeat. This time it only took 3 months for me to spiral into the darkest spot that I have ever been in. I can remember laying on the living room floor one night, contemplating how to end it all, only to look at my dog and realize that it would probably be days before someone would find me and no one would be there to feed him or water him. Ceasar loved me, no matter what, and I imagined him lying next to my lifeless body and I broke down into tears and once again realized I needed change.  After staying up all night on the phone with my mother, who comforted and consoled me in the best way she could, I made a decision.  I called my old boss at 5AM and asked to come back to Mississippi to my previous job. As God would have it, my position had opened up the night before and she told me to pack my stuff and come home. To this day I don’t know if she knows it, but she probably saved my life.

I got home and went to work, and consumed myself with work day and night. Because again… focusing on someone else’s issues kept me from having to face mine. However, after meeting my wife, I began to see a therapist and seek help and began to practice what I preached in my career. I began to surround myself with positive people, doing more things that made me happy, developed a closer relationship with God, and found support in, my now, wife.

I write this to let anyone know that even professionals struggle with mental illness, some hereditary, some circumstantial, but real none-the-less. To this day, I rely on my team of friends, family, and co-workers to help me get through the dark days, and celebrate the good days. However, now there are WAAAAYYY more good days than bad, and each day the bad get much easier to make it through. I am not a diagnosis, I am not a symptom of depression. I am a human being with emotions and feelings that are valid, regardless of what stigma around mental health says.

I recently heard something that I feel applies to this… “There is a part of our brain where we keep the most traumatic and troubling memories. It ties directly to the automatic functions such as breathing and heart rate and contains all of the things that we could easily forget and push down, but we keep them tied to our ability to live because they are the things that have made us who we are and that keep us strong”….

Embrace your emotions, seek help, and rely on your team and you will make it, just like I did.

-Dr. Joshua Everett