My Bout With Depression

by Mark Ivar Myhre on September 12, 2011

Dark. Cold. Alone – very alone. Standing on the outside of a huge gray wall. It’s raining. It’s always raining. The wall is so big. So imposing.

This is where I was yesterday. It started when I woke up, after asking for insight the night before as I was falling asleep. I wanted to better understand some blocked energy I was going through, so as I was drifting off, I asked for help to know what was going on.

So yesterday I wake up, and I started remembering what it was like when I was ten. Funny thing, no matter how hard I tried, up till now I could not recall one single thing during that year, except for my fifth grade teacher’s name. Mrs. Vickers.

All these years, I can’t remember anything except that one name. Now I know why the year was a blank, as a flood of memories came rushing back yesterday.

I spent the year standing outside in the rain, in a state of total despair. It wasn’t even the emotional pain, or the darkness that bothered me so much. It was the feeling of despair; the helplessness; the hopelessness; the trapped feeling; the nothing-matters feeling; the I’m-stuck-no-matter-what-I-do feeling. Which can all be summed up in one word.

Powerlessness. A life of utter despair and there’s nothing I can do about it.

Yesterday it all hit me like a ton of bricks. For several hours I walked around not caring if I lived or died. Fortunately, all the while, I know it’s just a pocket of pain from those forgotten days, so it didn’t bother me. In fact, I wanted to get into the feeling as much as possible, just so I could feel it and release it.

It was still scary. I’d forgotten just how dim those days were, until yesterday. I spent about an hour just feeling that cold dreary wet wall. When I put my hands up to touch it, they almost glowed, because the wall itself was so dark. Glowing white fingers pressed up against a concrete wall of pain. What a contrast.

It’s hard to believe I lived like that every single day. At ten years old! Thank goodness they hadn’t started TV commercials for antidepressants back then in 1966. As unstable as I was, I’d probably be that one in a hundred who goes crazy after taking depression medications.

Instead, I was left to my own devices: Pity. Judgments. Victim. Martyr. Blame. And hate. Lots of hate.

And the powerlessness, which always leads to rage. The rage usually gets buried, but it’s there.

Yesterday, I got to experience it all over again. It fascinated me, because I thought I’d worked all that stuff out. Yet there it was.

I’m walking around the university right before the big football game. First game of the season. It usually brings up a lot of excitement. But yesterday, I truly didn’t care if I lived or died. And those bright orange and blue clothes everyone was wearing looked so drab and gray. And I’ll admit, there was a time or two when I got a little concerned that these feelings inside me might not pass.

Costumed character at the football game.

Not even Darth Gator could snap me out of my depression.

I’m telling you, it was intense.

Is this how it ends?

Even thought I could have distracted myself to get out of it, I wanted to instead experience it to the max. But that’s just me. I wanted to be done with it – not push it down again like I did forty something years ago. So rather than stuff it, I let it fill me. I saturated myself with depression.

After a few hours, it all went away. Because I kept bringing the feelings closer. I kept trying to feel that despair and pain in my heart. I kept trying to extract every bit of energy out of those feelings. I kept sucking them up like a Hoover.

Hey, my power was locked up in those feelings. And I wanted my power back! And the only way I know to do that is to feel the intensity of it. Don’t push the feelings away. Bring them closer and closer. Embrace them.

I’ll admit there were a few times yesterday when I didn’t want to. And I could have paced myself a little slower. I could’ve taken smaller bites. But that’s not me. I’m gonna go for it. If it kills me, it kills me. At least I died trying.

Of course it’s not really like that. Nobody dies from feeling their feelings. It’s actually the other way around. People die because they don’t feel their feelings.

Oh, and as for that wall… That was a whole ‘nother experience in itself.

I also spent the quality time healing the wall of pain yesterday. You may have already read about the wall of pain that surrounds your heart, which keeps out your feelings. This was a different wall. (Actually, we have many walls that keep us separate from all sorts of things. The common denominator – they all create pain.)

The bottom line to all this, I found out I could still get depressed. And more important, I found out no matter how bad it gets, I can feel my way out of it in short order. It’s just a matter of opening up my heart and letting myself feel all that awful stuff, so it can pass through me.

all the best,


Mark Ivar Myhre
The Emotional Healing Coach
Want to talk about it? Click here
Uh, you are on my email list, right? If not, Click Here right away to get connected to all kinds of cool stuff.

AddThis Social Bookmark Button

AddThis Feed Button

Bookmark & Share

Please rate this page by clicking on one of the links below.

Facebook comments:

{ 5 comments… read them below or add one }

Leave a Comment

Notify me of followup comments via e-mail. You can also subscribe without commenting.

Previous post:

Next post: