I’m 38 years of age, as I write this. I don’t really know of much mental illness in my own family, but suicide was something I do remember from my youth. I don’t remember anyone actually committing suicide, but I do remember someone close to me threatening to kill themselves, taking a blade and bringing it into their room. That person locked the door, and when it was unlocked with the master key, the person screamed that he or she would take their own life if that was tried again.

I was never really scared, somehow.

Fast forward many years later, and I’m married to a beautiful wife. Through many disappointments with work issues and people issues at work, I had my first run in with depression from 2006 to 2009. I remember that when it hit, my energy crashed, and it was difficult to get anything done. A gray cloak covered everything that I did, and I was tired. Suicidal thoughts were existent and constant, but medication helped, and I led a more or less normal life, with few people really knowing what was going on. I was discharged, though, when my second son arrived 2 months earlier than expected. In the rush, I simply forgot that I had to take my medicine. When nothing changed despite the lack of medication, the psychiatrist and I agreed that I probably was well enough to be discharged.

I knew there would always be a chance that I’d fall to depression again. I just never expected it to be sudden, or that painful.

I have a loving wife, a couple of good kids, and a supportive extended family. On top of that, my bible study group meets at my house every week, and we support one another on many things that we talk about, and pray about. My support mechanisms are in place, and I know what I need to do when depression hits. So why did things go wrong?

What could go wrong?

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