I have struggled with depression my entire life. I can’t recall a time when I didn’t feel the anxiety, fear, and self loathing that are hallmarks of this mental illness. Yes, I have attended endless sessions of talk therapy. Yes, I tried different medications, and with most of them I experienced side effects that were almost as bad as the depression. I have read more self help, self improvement and pop psychology books than anyone I know. Yet I still struggled.

My early life was filled with neglect, emotional, physical and sexual abuse and extreme poverty. My family was on welfare and food stamps, and I remember having little or no food in the cupboard. My biological mother was herself depressed, and unable to appropriately care for her children. Our home was overrun by an endless train of alcoholic, abusive, manipulative men who took advantage of my biological mother, my sister and me. Instinctively, I knew that this was not “normal life”. I knew that there was something wrong, but I didn’t have anything else to compare my life to. I just knew that life was not supposed to be like this. I was supposed to be in a loving home, with 2 parents, and we were supposed to have fun together. I was supposed to have a father who would teach me how to fish and play ball, and a mom who would hold me when I skinned my knee. It was supposed to be better.

As I grew up, I emulated the lifestyle I saw around me. I began using alcohol to self medicate, I became promiscuous in a vain attempt to find love. I made all of the classic mistakes. I also began to injure myself - cutting, hitting, damaging. It seemed to lessen the pain, and quiet the voices that screamed at me from the inside. Not the schizophrenic voices “out there”, but the internal criticizing, damning voices. The voices that make you feel like you are going crazy, but never let you cross over into blissful insanity. I made a number of sad and unsuccessful attempts at suicide, but mostly I just fantasized about dying. I would dream about existence without the incessant pain that throbbed in my gut and my chest. But I was also afraid; afraid of physical pain, afraid of not succeeding and being left a vegetable, afraid of what I might find on the other side. So I was limited to self-destructive behavior, and I pursued it to the fullest.

I share these details with candor to let any visitors know where I am coming from. I have pursued personal development so that I can grow beyond the boundaries imposed by my past. This isn’t some game for me: the principles behind personal development literally saved my life. Overcoming fear, depression and low self esteem are the bread and butter skills that have helped me make it day to day. As a college dropout, professional development and continuous learning allowed me to build a career that I enjoy, and that pays the bills. I hope to pass on a little of what I’ve learned on my journey to help anyone who stumbles across these pages. My desire is that those who become part of a community here will grow and develop, and similarly share their experiences to help others.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, July 25th, 2007 at 10:50 pm and is filed under About Quint, Introduction. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed, bookmark the Permalink in your Browser, leave a response, or trackback from your own site.