"Helpless, Hopeless, Cold and Lonely..."

This is What Depression Looks Like...

Earlier this week Stephen “tWitch” Boss, best known as the DJ from The Ellen Show and for being a contestant and performer on So You Think You Can Dance, left his home without his car. When repeated calls to his phone went unanswered his wife, Allison Holker, went to the police to file a missing person’s report, claiming this was “out of character” for him. The next morning they found him at Oak Tree Inn in Encino, California, about a mile from his home, with a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head. He leaves behind his wife and three children. He was forty years old. Just a few weeks ago, Jason David Frank from the Power Rangers franchise killed himself. When it comes to men and mental health, we don’t talk enough about it. Mental health looks different for men because so much of their pressure is external. It’s a mix of cultural and societal expectations in addition to whatever is going on inside their heads. Not to say women are to blame, but we play a huge role in how men fare mentally. I could give you a couple of statistics and pamphlet answers on what depression looks like and how to spot the signs of suicidal ideation, but that’s boring. Allow me, if you will, to get personal.

Quick Disclaimer (and this is going to sound rude): I’m not looking for pity, sympathy, or a hand to hold. For those who have my phone number, I’m not looking for a phone call. If you call me, I won’t answer. That being said…

This is me. According to Facebook, this photo was posted by an old co-worker on July 7, 2010, and if I remember correctly this was a Fourth of July party at a friend’s house in Greensboro, North Carolina. I was 23 years old. I had a fun job at a movie theater and the coolest group of friends. I was having so much fun, and as you can tell from the photo, I was happy.

This is what depression looks like.

I was unofficially diagnosed with depression when I was fourteen. I say “unofficially” because the therapist I was seeing at the time said, “I believe you have depression…” and I wouldn’t let her go any farther than that. For reasons I can’t remember, I stopped seeing that therapist. She was nice, but part of my problem was therapy started as joint sessions with my mother. My mother and I at the time had a very strained relationship and I felt I couldn’t be open with her. Because I couldn’t be open with my mom, I didn’t feel confident I could be open with this therapist, even when we were having solo sessions.

A lot happened when I was fourteen. I started the school year with 9/11, my grandmother died right after Thanksgiving, and I started grieving my father’s passing for the first time. He passed when I was four, but I don’t remember having much of a relationship with him. He was in the military and my parents were divorced, so by the time he died I hadn’t seen him for about six months. Before high school, I don’t remember ever feeling sad about my dad. I don’t even remember missing him, and I still don’t miss him, yet it hit me all of a sudden that I had a dad and he was dead. I was going through a rough time and he wasn’t there to help me navigate it all, and I was angry about it. In addition to all of that baggage was a heaviness that came out of nowhere. Everything felt heavy. The violin I enjoyed playing, brushing my teeth, going to school, and doing homework. Depression isn’t a deep sadness, it’s not an emotion, it’s a heaviness that’s crushing. One minute everything is fine and the next you feel like you’re walking in quicksand. And the worst part is you don’t know why! Many people have a reason, but some of us can’t make sense of it. Fatherlessness aside, I had a great mom, a brother, and a roof over my head. I was in a great school and I could play an instrument. I wasn’t dating or having sex or doing anything that would add unnecessary pressure, so what was the problem? I couldn’t figure it out and I didn’t know how to explain it. The best explanation I’ve ever heard is a song by Justin Nozuka called “Down In a Cold Dirty Well.”

The darkness rolled in freshman year, and I don’t remember much much of my sophomore year. I didn’t get along with my tenth-grade English teacher, but in hindsight, I think she knew something was wrong because she would let me sleep. We moved halfway through my junior year, which ended up saving my life because I was on my way to losing my complete mind. Senior year, I got my act together and started preparing for college. For the first time in four years, I could imagine a life after high school. My freshman year of college was great. I made good friends and gave my life to Christ, but everything went downhill after that.

Fast forward to 2009. I’m done with school and working at a movie theater, having the time of my life, or so I thought. What I thought was fun was self-destruction. I was numb and desperate to feel something. ANYTHING. I was on a downward spiral, slowly killing myself because I was too much of a coward to do it quickly.

2010 was the worst and most pivotal year of my life. Two things rescued me. The first was the Jay Asher novel, Thirteen Reasons Why. I know many people have issues with the book and the TV show saying it glamorizes suicide, but for me, it was like looking in a mirror. It felt like this man, this stranger, took my most private thoughts and feelings and exposed them to the world. I felt seen. I didn’t feel alone. The second thing was God. It’s a story I don’t share, and truth be told, I’ve told way too many people, but I’m pretty sure God had enough of my foolishness and flipped my world upset down. It was the most traumatic experience of my life, and I haven’t been the same since. God hit the reset button on my life and I had to start over.

In 2019 I’m at a friend’s house and we were scrolling through Facebook when we come across the above photo and others like it. “You look so happy,” he said. This young man who had become one of my friends couldn’t see the emptiness in my eyes, but I could. I was dying and no one knew. Depression is confusing for those who live with it and even more confusing for those who are left behind. “What did we miss?” “How could we not know?” “But they were so happy.” My mother has asked me many times if I’ve ever thought about killing myself and I tell her “no” every single time, and to the best of my knowledge about my mental health history, that’s true. But I have thought, “What if…”

What would happen if I did? Who would care? Would it make a difference? Would it be easier on everyone if I was gone? For those who have lost someone to suicide or know someone who is struggling, I want to shift your perspective on a couple of things:

1.) It’s not selfish. I know it’s easy to think this when it happens and you’re grieving the loss of someone who was incredibly loved, but it’s not a selfish act. For them, it’s selfless. In their mind, they’re doing you a favor. Their life is such a burden for them that they must be a burden for you. In their mind, your life would be so much better and brighter if they weren’t around.

2.) It’s not an easy decision. They had been thinking about it for a while, sometimes years. There’s always that last-ditch effort to find a reason to stay, a subtle way of asking for help without asking for help, hoping someone notices.

Again, depression is not an emotion. You can be happy and depressed. I was happy. I was having fun. I was living it up in my early 20s while dealing with a pain so heavy and unbearable. I don’t know how to explain what it feels like. It’s like screaming in a crowded room and no one can hear you. It’s like walking around with water in your lungs. I don’t know how to explain hopelessness, this voice that tells you everyone would be better off if you ended it all. That voice is so loud you can’t hear anything else, and it’s terrifying. I can’t imagine the fear, loss, and joy one feels knowing the voice is finally going away.

So what can you do? Depression isn’t always visible and it’s not always 24/7. Basic signs include, but are not limited to:

• A messy living space

• Losing interest in normal activities

• Changes in weight or appetite.

• Changes in behavior: risk-taking, self-destructive behavior, moodiness, irritability, etc

• Changes in sleep

• Fatigue

• Anxiety

• Losing focus/concentration

• Random physical pain that doesn’t seem to have a cause: headaches, stomach aches, joint pain, etc.

• A bleak outlook

Depression doesn’t always look like sadness, sometimes it looks like joy. Your friend who goes out of their way to make everyone laugh, check on them. Your friend who lights up every room, check on them. Your friend who gives a lot of themselves and asks for nothing in return, check on them. Your friend who started telling people how much they love them, check on them. Your friend who is causing chaos for no apparent reason, check on them.

How do I know? Because this is me! I am fortunate enough that I can now recognize when I’m about to spin and I know what to do to keep pushing. Not everyone has that kind of self-awareness, so don’t hesitate to tell someone the value they bring to your life. I’ve always said actions speak louder than words, but that’s now always true. With depression, you need something louder than the voice.

Twitch was an incredible dancer, choreographer, and mentor who left a huge impact on the dance world. He and his wife through TikTok put smiles on people’s faces during quarantine. He was a stepfather to his wife’s oldest child, loving her like she was his own, and a father to a six-year-old son and three-year-old daughter. His life had value and meaning and purpose, and it’s unreal that he couldn’t see it. He leaves behind a legacy that will last lifetime. Love the one you’re with and check on the ones who are slipping away.