I'm not really sure how to start this post. I'm generally a pretty reserved guy about my personal life - I'm not sure anyone on the forums, even my friends, know that much about me irl. Like
Finchinator, I've lurked here for a while and I've thought about posting before, but never got around to it. Recently, I guess I've just had a couple of rough weeks and need some catharsis, so here's my story.
I've been struggling with depression for about 7 years now, which coincides with my forum join date. I'm currently 22 years old, but back then, I was 15 and a sophomore in high school. That year was when my body started failing me and it has progressively gotten worse since then.
To preface, I grew up playing sports and spent a great deal of my youth outside biking, hiking, sailing, climbing trees, etc; almost all my hobbies involved physical activity of some sort. The only video game consoles I ever owned were a Gameboy Advance SP and DS Lite and the only games I really ever played were in the Pokémon franchise. When I reached high school, among other pursuits, I played soccer, both for my school and as part of travel and indoor teams. During pre-season training in August of my sophomore year, I badly tore my meniscus (the cartilage in your knee joint) in my right leg, which resulted in what's known as a bucket-handle tear. I was young enough that they could repair my meniscus, but the damage was worse than the doctors had originally thought, and the arthroscopic surgery they had prepared to perform had to be changed last-minute in the operating room; I woke up with a 6-inch gash in my leg, in addition to holes from their original arthroscopic attempt. I spent the next 6 months of my life on crutches, and the 3 after that attending physical therapy thrice weekly. It was at this point that I began playing competitive pokemon; I needed a hobby I could enjoy while sedentary. It was also during this stint when I experienced my first depressive symptoms. Life on crutches took a toll on my psyche, especially since I lost my ability to be active, as I had been for the entirety of my life until this point. Luckily, I made a full recovery, and after a year or so, I was back to my regular self; I had curbed my brief depressive state.
Fast forward to my senior year of high school. I was back to playing soccer competitively. Unfortunately for me, about 3 weeks into the high school season, I suffered a much worse leg injury than the one in my sophomore year. While landing from a header, my right knee hyper-extended about 45 degrees. This event was the most painful experience I've ever had in my life. It's almost impossible for me to describe to this day; I have almost no memory of getting injured despite remaining conscious the entire time. Of the brief flashes I can still recall, I remember that I screamed the entire time I was in the ambulance on the way to the hospital and that I had uncontrollable leg spasms for 48 hours after that. Those spasms would be the last time any part of my right leg below my knee ever moved again. Upon arriving at the hospital, I was told I tore my ACL, PCL, MCL, LCL, and meniscus (again); basically my entire knee was shot. At my follow-up appointment 2 days later, I still couldn't move my foot at all, and after some testing, I was told I tore my peroneal and tibial nerves as well.
This injury was the beginning of the end for me. I spent the following 9-12 months on and off of crutches; I attended my high school graduation and senior prom on crutches while wearing two braces, one that ran the length of my leg (hip to ankle) and another exclusively for my foot/ankle. I had 6 separate surgeries during this time, the first two to reconstruct the physical components of my knee (ligament replacement and cartilage removal) and the last 4 to attempt to fix my nerves (nerve decompression and nerve graft). I spent most of the year in and out of the hospital, whether for surgeries, follow-up appointments, or physical therapy. It was during this time in which I truly became depressed - I didn't feel any emotions barring sadness, and completely lost my motivation to do anything. I struggled to get up in mornings and cried myself to sleep most nights. I genuinely considered committing suicide. Being that it was my senior year, I was also applying to colleges while this fiasco was occurring, which brings me to one of my biggest regrets - my failure to write essays for top schools. I had the SAT/AP scores (2230 with writing; 1540 without/mostly 5s), the GPA (3.87), and extracurricular activities (captain on varsity baseball/soccer and quiz bowl, sound technician for plays/concerts, president of the engineering club) to attend an Ivy League-level school, but I just didn't apply because I couldn't be motivated to write a damn essay. Of course, there's no guarantee I would've gotten in, but I still find myself fixated on my actions years later.
After a year of catatonic behavior and increasing social withdrawal, I left for college, moving from my native New Jersey to Ohio to attend Case Western Reserve University on a good scholarship. I was left paralyzed in my right leg (below the knee) from my injury, and forced to wear a brace in order to walk. During my first week of classes, I broke my brace and my right foot. I was allotted a single brace through my insurance and it took almost 4 weeks for my new one to arrive; additionally, I didn't seek medical attention for my broken foot because I was out of network for my insurance coverage. I would go on to break my foot 2 more times that year, and only learned about the first break when I was being examined in NJ for the second. I never told my professors about my injuries, and didn't inquire about accommodations, and as a result skipped all my classes that semester. I still passed them all and was able to keep my scholarship, but my GPA was less than stellar. This behavior continued until the end of sophomore year, at which point I was completely withdrawn from society; I just didn't care anymore. During the summer between my sophomore and junior years, I told myself to either fix my life or actually end it.
I spent all summer working, getting back in shape, and smoking pot. This marked the beginning of my drug phase, which I do credit with turning my life around. The first time I got high, I felt happy for the first time in years - I smiled and even laughed. But it soon turned into an addiction for me - I spent every moment of my days high. I went to class high, I worked out high, I went to my job high, I even took exams high. In context of this website, I played SPL and WCoP matches high. I awoke and I smoked; that was my routine. I was masking my depression with marijuana. At the beginning of my senior year, I began experimenting with psychedelics and slowly kicked my smoking habit. Soon after, I sought professional help and was diagnosed with schizoid personality disorder and major depression. I was prescribed buproprion and aripiprazole, and I still take them daily. I even went out and joined a few intramural sports teams for basketball, soccer, and softball. Sadly, in my first soccer game since my injury, I made a diving save as goalie and dislocated my left shoulder and tore my rotator cuff; I guess it just isn't my sport anymore. I graduated in May 2019, after 4 years at Case, which brings us to now.
After graduation, I moved back to NJ and am currently living in my parent's house. It can be hard sometimes; I still have habits I need to work on (staying up late writing this post lmao). I especially feel isolated here; all my friends from high school have moved away and there isn't much to drag me out of the house while I search for a job. These last couple of weeks have been hard, being confined in a space 24/7 with a family that isn't particularly understanding of my situation. But things are looking up for me, and I can genuinely say this is the best I've felt since September 2014.
For me, a big part of helping my depression was letting go - I can't affect what happened to me in the past but that doesn't mean I have to let it define my future.
It feels good to just get my story off my chest.
2020 is a year of small steps; I want to work towards being a better version of myself.
Thanks for reading :)