by Pete Davison

Created on: January 09, 2009

I am depressed.

This is something I used to be ashamed of admitting, partly because I don't think I really understood what the implications of it were, but over time I have come to realise that it's a part of me and something I have to deal with.

That doesn't mean it's any easier.

Depression and its best friend anxiety can strike at the strangest of times. They can demotivate you, they can make you want to hide from even your closest friends and, paradoxically, they can make you want to scream and rant and rave to anyone who will listen. They can keep you awake at night, yet make your mind feel tired and lethargic. Suffering from depression and anxiety is a study in contrasts and paradoxes if nothing else, never predictable and never comfortable.

I first noticed my depression consciously several years ago now, though looking back at my life before this happened, it is clear to me that I have suffered with it in one form or another for many years. The day it really hit me was while I was working as a school teacher in the music department of a state-run secondary school. Any teacher will tell you that this is not an easy experience at the best of times but least of all when you are the kind of person who finds themselves very shy and uncomfortable around new people and felt alone, isolated and unsupported by your peers and colleagues at your place of work - people who should be on your side, rallying for your cause. This was patently not the case at my place of work, as its body of staff was one of the most insular, cliquey communities I have ever had the misfortune to intrude upon. I was the "outsider". I didn't fit into any of the established groups in the staffroom, so I ended up feeling rather alone.

This feeling constantly weighed on my mind as I battled against unruly children to be heard in an attempt to impart my knowledge and skills to an unappreciative audience who cared little for the study of music in all its many forms. My feeling of isolation made my frustration with the situation worse and worse as I felt like there was no way I could get anyone to help me, because no-one would want to help me. I felt useless, helpless and wanted nothing more than to run and hide, but I still stood strong because of my own misguided sense of pride.

Eventually, of course, something snapped. During one particularly unpleasant lesson where some of the worst children in the school were playing up, my brain told my body to get out, that I couldn't take any more of this,

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