Michael Landsberg publicly announced his depression but it wasn’t until the death of his friend and hockey player Wade Belak that he spoke about their struggles together with mental illness. In response to this article Landsberg posted on tsn.com, I wrote him the following email last night.

Dear Michael,

This letter is a little late, but I wanted to tell you how much your post on TSN about Wade Belak meant to me.

I was diagnosed with depression about ten years ago, and suffered from it for years before that. It took a suicide attempt before I was able to get help, mostly because I didn’t think my family or friends would take the depression seriously. Two years after the diagnosis, I was re-diagnosed as bipolar II.

Since then, I’ve been on almost every medication imaginable. I’ve seen numerous psychiatrists, and was hospitalized for a month at CAMH in Toronto. I’ve developed insomnia, further highs and lows at increasingly rapid cycles, and gained, lost, and regained about 30 pounds. My limp, as you expressed it so well, became an amputated leg. It disabled me, if not fully, enough that my life has never been the same.

I’ve done everything I can to work through this. I’ve read books, talked to friends and family more openly, and taken my meds religiously. But nothing helps. It seems that as the years pass, more and more obstacles push the depression into further lows, and the highs are fewer and far between thanks to the mood stabilizers.

My friends are very supportive. Extremely supportive. They’re often the only way I can get through things. My family took longer to open up about my illness, but we’re finally at a point where I can be honest about what I’m feeling and going through, which is amazing. I know I’m blessed to have such amazing support where others find themselves lost in it alone. I don’t take that for granted.

I’ve had my fair share of texts with close friends who know me inside and out, and didn’t hesitate when I replied “Fine” to the “How are you?” question. They accepted my fine, just like you did Wade’s. And I know the outcome was different in my case, but even if they called me out on my “Fine”, there wouldn’t have been much they could have done. I don’t think anyone can pull a suicidal person out of their mindset. I truly hope you don’t blame yourself.

A couple of your lines really struck me.

“People kill themselves when the fear of living another moment outweighs the fear of dying at that moment.”

“Suicide is what happens when the angel of death and the angel of mercy start working together.”

I completely agree with these statements and thought they were very eloquently put. I’ve felt that pain, too many times for my liking. I’m feeling it right now. The fear of living another moment is constantly with me, even when I try my hardest to live my life and be as happy as I can be. I feel like the angel of death and angel of mercy are bickering right now, over what should be done with me, and I’m living in a kind of limbo while I wait for the decision.

***

I believe a big part of the problem of people not getting diagnosed correctly is that they don’t understand the illness. Especially men, who, like you said, see it as a form of weakness. For someone like you – a well-respected sports personality, a real man’s man – to speak out about your struggle and how you felt after Wade’s death is a huge step toward opening up the world of mental illness to the public. I wish I could shake your hand for that.

The only way I can try is through my blog, in which I detail my problems and meds (or problems with meds), my doctors and my support network. I don’t know how much it helps, but I did get through to a woman dealing with depression who decided to do the in-patient program at CAMH that I did. From what I can tell, she doesn’t have any friends to talk to about her problems, and she found comfort in my blog. If no one else ever reads it, it’ll be worth it for her. My friends read it to keep up with how I’m doing, which helps. I can put a post out in cyberland with no immediate reaction, and not have to tell all my friends individually how I’m doing. It’s been a really great experience – my own form of therapy.

***

A week after I was released from the hospital after my big attempt, my parents took me back to the house I shared with three friends at university. My dad wanted to help them understand what had happened and what I was dealing with, so he prepared some information for them. But the most important thing he said was, “Asking a person with depression to ‘snap out of it’ is like asking a person with diabetes to start producing insulin.” It stuck with my friends because, unbeknownst to my dad, one of my roommates was diabetic. I’m not sure it sticks with people in general all the time, but I hope that it will.

And I truly hope your message about your depression and Wade’s will shine a little more light on mental illness – right now it’s just a few candles in a dark room, but with help, we can fill that room with light.

Thank you for opening yourself up to us, and for making me realize that there is hope for the future, even if I don’t always see it.

And I know this doesn’t mean much, since I didn’t know him, but I’m a huge hockey fan, and a bigger Leafs fan – and I thought Wade was great. One of my favourite hockey moments was seeing Wade score after his long drought and the amazing look on his face. You could see his smile on the ice from anywhere, all the time. It’s amazing.

That’s how I’ll remember him, and I know you do too.

If your friendship with Wade is anything like mine with my closest friends, Wade knew you’d be there for him should he need you, but he couldn’t. That’s not your fault. There is no blood on your hands. I hope one day you’ll realize that.

Your friend in depression (and with hope for a future of happiness),

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This entry was posted on Wednesday, October 5th, 2011 at 9:53 pm and is filed under bipolar. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.