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ARTS AND CULTURE

Sharing the selfish illness

  • 15 September 2010
As I grated the sandpaper across my face, the skin rubbed away but didn't bleed as I expected. Gooey plasma softened the paper's rigid surface. I picked another piece and tried again, over the weeping skin. This time I got blood and was satisfied that if I explained that my face was the result of tripping up the stairs I could remain in the house for a few more days. I went inside and tried my hardest to remove all thoughts from my mind.

Three weeks later I was diagnosed with major depressive disorder.

It's a selfish illness: the desire to reverse your existence. However, in recent months my GP has found me medication that has been effective and I am returning to a feeling, whole human. Earlier this year, after a lousy day, I recognised I was both bored and frustrated — and went a little mad with happiness. It had been almost three years since I hadn't regularly feigned emotions.

Since becoming well, it has been difficult to describe what it was like living with depression. To get some distance and so to better articulate what it can be like, I asked a friend if he would allow me to share his story.

I remember meeting Mathieu more than 10 years ago on a youth group activity that involved catching a train to the CBD. He was miming a lawn sprinkler break-dance while moving up the carriage walkway; he encouraged other passengers to suggest different moves or join in themselves.

His lanky, uncocoordinated but enthusiastic efforts were too funny to ignore and broke the no-talking-listening-or-acknowledging-others-on-public-transport norm. Strangers, other youth members and I exchanged grins.

In short, Mathieu isn't someone you forget. Spending time with him makes you feel that the world holds colours you never dreamt existed: together you have stepped from a water-colour world to one of vivid oils and charcoal.

Until recently, I knew very little of his struggles. I knew he was sometimes moody, and he would frustrate me by disappearing out of my life for a few months, then popping up again as if nothing had happened.

Mathieu was bullied throughout primary school for being dramatic and 'different'. It was something of a surprise when, at high school, this 'difference' was not only tolerated, but gave him a counter-mainstream popularity among other kids who didn't fit in.

However, from year 10 onwards he struggled