Croweater
Club Legend
- Joined
- Apr 1, 2013
- Posts
- 1,971
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- 3,147
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- Somewhere
- AFL Club
- Port Adelaide
- Other Teams
- Sturt FC, Arsenal FC,
I would hope that any of my close friends would be happy for me to speak to them if I was having problems, actually I'm 100% sure they would. Some people don't have that kind of strong friendship network (I'm talking 5 or so close mates I could "trust" in my case) and I can see how that can cause anxiety. Even if people go to their GP and get a referral there's no guarantee that the person they speak too is going to "gel" with you and feel right. In most cases it often takes people a couple of times to find the right psychologist who they feel comfortable talking too, that's just human nature (we like some people and not others even if they are very similar types of people).
In regards to your points, I find it ridiculous that people could say you have nothing to worry about because you don't have a mortgage, you live in Australia and you are on holidays. The level of ignorance of whoever has said those things is extreme, no doubt the same type of person that would try to cheer you up by saying there are kids in Africa that have nothing so you shouldn't be feeling down.
I know Croweater didn't mean it was easy for people to talk, it's not and he's not having a go at people that don't speak. It's often easy to ask that question though, "why didn't they say something?" when we can also ask ourselves "when did I last ask how they were doing?". Ultimately though people are really good at hiding how they're feeling, not sure if it's a pre-programmed part of human nature but showing a sign of weakness in the animal kingdom often ends up with you being targeted by others. Throw in the tough-guy male image and it's a problem that we're still a long, long way from improving.
I really do hope that schools are educating children about these issues, I know that there was no such thing when I was in school. The best we had was sex-ed and watching a cartoon guy jumping on a diving board and getting a boner, wtf that was about I'm yet to figure out but I know how to put a condom on a banana with my eyes closed![]()
I've never suffered from anxiety or depression, but I know a lot about bottling stuff up.
Life is stressful, and in high pressure environments, you need to remain composed. The downside to that is that you compress everything deep into your psyche. Think of it like a balloon. You begin getting a little stressed but you supress it. Gradually you start to build up more stress and every time you build stress it's like blowing air into a balloon. The balloon has a breaking point. In this instance, you don't know when, you don't know how, and you don't know the impact it will have. Stress can be the result of anything. For me, it was relationship shit, my parents being overseas for three months, and an 80 hour per week workload. Most people release stress by exploding. Others implode. I was the latter. Mid semester break last year, I was so mentally exhausted that I thought about giving up Uni for a bit and moving to the US. Luckily I didn't. I said "enough's enough" and went to see a psychiatrist about my stress levels and about how to mitigate it. I spoke to my parents about it and they helped me through it. As did my now-girlfriend when I let her know about it a few weeks later.
My biggest problem is that I let my pride and my stubbornness get in the way of things. I'm working on that. I used to think similarly to most men; that vulnerability is weakness and that admitting you have shit to work on gives others an opening to walk all over you. I was wrong. Talking to someone took a great deal of strength and maturity, and it's one my proudest moments in hindsight. I can't comprehend what depression must be like for people to deal with on a day-to-day basis. I hope I never have to. But I do know how talking to someone - anyone - can make a difference.
And by the way, anyone who says that depression is valid only on the basis of low socioeconomic status, shithouse interpersonal relationships and a socially-deemed subpar lifestyle (read: Buddy Franklin shouldn't be depressed because he makes $1.2 million a year, lives in Bondi and f*cks Jesinta Campbell), doesn't know their arse from last Tuesday. My good mate who chose to end things went to an elite Adelaide private school, worked in business, was taking home a quarter six figures, and had a beautiful partner.
Depression doesn't discriminate. However, the good thing about a greater-informed society on these matters is that people are less likely to either. It's not easy to talk to someone; I'm not saying it is or it will be. But there can be a way out.

