Overcoming depression (long road to freedom)

Depression is an illness, it takes over your life and it leaves you wanting to end it all.
For many years I have been fighting depression, since before I even knew it was called that. As an African black man, born in the 80s, I was raised to believe that men are strong, that men don't cry, that men must never show any signs of weakness. As I grew older this belief or indoctrination started to take its toll on me. I did not have any father figure around to show me the ropes as to how a man needs to carry themselves in society and with time it was getting harder to live a normal life where a father was present.

My father passed away when I was only 11, during the time when Nelson Mandela had just got out of prison. My father was gunned down in his home over a conflict revolving around political affiliation. Back then I did not fully comprehend the reality of the situation, that I would never see my father in the flesh ever again. It never dawned on me that for the years to come I would have to figure out what steps I would need to take to find myself in this obscure world we're live in.

I was raised by a single mother, and as much as she tried to do all she could to show us love and give us guidance, there was still that gap for a father figure. So for the most part of my youth I would act out,doing petty crime and not really paying attention at school. I was not like other kids, I would always be in trouble at school or with the law, as a minor.

As time passed I grew older,and with that new challanges would confront me, I had not allowed the wounds to heal after my father passed, and so I started drinking. At times I would drink to a point of oblivion, trying to escape the realities that faced me within. Back then I don't even recall whether I was aware of the cause for my behavior, I think for the most part, I was just dealing with the symptoms, and for me drinking and acting out was a way of dealing with the pain.
I don't think I ever dealt with the emotions of loosing my father, I kept all that bottledup inside for many years. It got to a point where I started using heavy drugs like Cocain, to numb the pain, and for many years it did just that but sooner or later all that pain would resurface and I would have to deal with it one way or another.
It got to a point where it disrupted my work, as an adult, and also caused a wedge between my loved ones and me.
It got so bad that I ended up sleeping on the streets, at some point in my life. I believe this was the turning point, wake up call if you will.

Depression is a real illness with real symptoms. People tend to down play it as something that one can snap out of, for many do not understand what it is and how it affects people. I believe more education is needed for people to have a better understanding of the illness so that the patient does not feel a sense of judgement from the public and so saving one from themselves for this illness can cause one to end their own lives

image credit - https://pixabay.com/en/directory-signposts-hope-466935/