What was your experience with depression before you began travel?

Before travelling, depression was my day-to-day life, and had been since I was a child, making weak attempts at suicide by trying to smother myself with a pillow. Depression grew up with me. It was the voice in my head, the one telling me I would always fail. It consumed me so much, I couldn’t draw a line between where it ended and my real self began. We were one and the same.

I either had trouble falling asleep, or getting out of bed, or both. I deprived myself of food; I liked the lightheaded, disconnected feeling it gave me. I wanted so badly to disconnect. Every morsel of sadness in the world, every tragic story seen on the news or overheard on the bus weighed so heavily on my heart. I felt responsible for all the sadness in the world, and worthless for being unable to stop it. I cut myself with a poorly stashed razor blade as a teenager, then moved to more subtle ways of hurting myself when that started to feel self-indulgent, when the redness criss-crossing on my arm disgusted me. I didn’t want anyone to have a glimpse at what was going on inside. I thought about death constantly, planned out elaborate suicides and felt like a failure when I didn’t follow through.

But in all this, the worst part was the hopelessness. I honestly didn’t believe that I could ever change. This was who I was, a failed, broken human incapable of happiness.

How has living with depression impacted your life?

I think the greatest impact has been my relationships with others. I was afraid of letting people see how much I was hurting, and that caused me to pull away or lash out. I truly admire anyone who stuck with me through the really rough periods… I must have been near impossible to live with.

I had one nervous breakdown that forced me to take a couple of weeks off work. That was definitely my lowest point. I had to return to my parents’ place, and I would sleep for 15 hours straight every night. I wasn’t eating. When I was awake, I couldn’t think straight. My only thoughts were this chaotic pleading in my mind, begging the universe to make this stop.

The craziest thing, though, is that most of the time my life appeared normal. It always baffled me that I could go to work, run errands, attend university, and have a social life. Even when I was feeling absolutely floored by depression, when I’d spent my day doing nothing but lying on the floor and feeling hopeless, I could slap on a smile and be a normal member of society. And that’s what scares me the most. The possibility that I could have just gone on like that. I could have gotten married, had a career, started a family, without even acknowledging that as a person, I still had a lot to work on. I could have powered through 80 years of life hating every second of it, not realizing that I could be celebrating instead of enduring. It would have been a slow and bitter destruction.

What types of medication or medication alternatives have you used to treat it?

I’ve never been on anti-depressants. Recently I’ve been very interested in how diet affects all aspect of our lives, and I’ve been trying to include more foods that increase dopamine or serotonin levels, such as apples, bananas, legumes and leafy greens. I also try to exercise every day and drink a lot of water. It sounds cliche, but a healthy diet can change so much, along with other practices such as meditation, and getting plenty of sunshine. If I don’t have access to healthy food for a few days, my mood plummets as well as my physical energy. Body and mind are connected.

Was it hard to consider travel during depressive episodes?

Absolutely.

It was easy to dream of travel. I had a series of fantasies, of meeting amazing and beautiful people, of going on long ventures on my own over epic mountains, of finding solace in the ocean waves crashing onto shore. But it all looked like a carefully curated dream, something that was being sold to me by someone else. I didn’t believe in it. I didn’t believe in myself enough to reach for it. Staying at home and stagnating made me miserable, but making myself miserable was what I did best.

Honestly, I’m still amazed that I snapped out of it long enough to ever purchase a plane ticket.

What have you noticed about how depression affects you during your travels?

I’m usually in a very good place when I travel. Whenever I do start to sink into a dark place, I can somehow turn it into something poetic. I know that in my memories, loneliness in the rainforest will be better than loneliness in my bed at home. Crying my eyes out on front of the ocean will be better than sitting in a chair and staring at a blank wall. Sadness becomes a story instead of a way of life.

If I do start feeling sad, I can talk about it freely, without worrying that anyone around me is anticipating a relapse. Bad days are okay. I accept that more easily when I travel, because a bad day doesn’t risk trapping me in a cycle of apathy. With new things happening all the time, it can’t.

If you have long time periods when you don’t travel, do you tend to experience a relapse?

Every time I come home to Canada, I can feel my depression lingering on the outskirts of my mind, and it’s exhausting to constantly be pushing it back. The winters are especially bad. Anyone who’s ever experienced seasonal depression knows just how real it can be. But I want to be okay with myself no matter where I am in the world, and being okay here is a huge part of that. With lots of positive self-talk, healthy habits, honesty and a forgiveness towards myself if I do start to slip. I’m proud of how well I’ve managed to keep footing.

Still though, my best remedy for dealing with bad days includes purchasing plane tickets and planning new adventures. I’m hoping to get to the point where that’s something I want, and not something I need.

Does living with depression change how frequently you travel?

That’s hard to say. The only periods in my life when I’m not travelling or living abroad are due mainly to financial factors. Travel is what snapped me out of the lethargy I’d been feeling for years, and maybe that’s compelled me to make it such an important part of my life. If I’d lived a life free of depression, maybe travel would be a secondary focus, and I’d be working towards something unrelated. Then again, maybe I wouldn’t. Non-depressed me is pretty travel-obsessed as well.

Have you found any non-travel-related activities that have the same effect on you?

Reading definitely helps take me out of myself—probably why I was such a bookworm as a child.

Anything involving nature (camping, hiking, swimming, picnics in the park) helps me achieve that feeling of wholeness, of being truly connected.

More and more, I feel like I am getting people in my life who know all sides of me, dark and light, and who love me anyways. Spending time with those people helps, because I can simply be myself, however I’m feeling at the time. That’s a sense of freedom I’ve never known before.

What advice do you have for other people who are dealing with depression?

You may not believe me. But it can stop. You just have to trigger that on your own.

Find a dream that lights you up. Don’t aim to be the best at something, just find something you want to do. And do it.

It may seem overwhelming, you may not have faith that you’ll follow through… But do it. Break it into little tasks. Each one of those should be simple. Something you can easily picture yourself doing.

And, piece by piece, work towards the big picture.

For all the positive thoughts in the world, nothing will lift you up like a feeling of accomplishment, of achieving a goal, or at least of trying. It’s the best way to feel alive. You owe it to yourself, the self that’s hiding under the depression. You have to let that person go.

Also, don’t be afraid to tell people you’re suffering! Start small, tell a couple of people who you know have or have had mental health issues. It’s amazing how much smaller it becomes when you share it with others, and how many people will accept you regardless. Of course, others may not… But they probably weren’t giving you much positive energy anyways.

Anything else you’d like to add?

Travelling has changed me. It’s made me a more complete person, bolder, more loving, more accepting of myself and others. It taught me to be happy.

But if you take anything from this interview, it shouldn’t be that travel will make you happy. It should just be that happiness is possible. And you are worthy of it. No matter who you are, no matter where you are, I believe this. I hope you can believe it, too.

Jeannie writes on her site

What was your experience with depression before you began travel?
Depression first hit in my teen years, but in Asian families depression is an unspoken secret that nobody addresses, so I suffered in silence much of the time. I recovered for several years throughout my 20s, but by my mid-30s depression came back with full force. That’s when I plunged into years of therapy. Luckily I was in a wonderful place mentally when I embarked on my RTW trip, which carried through until I had a relapse two years later.

How has living with depression impacted your life?
When I am suffering from a bout of depression, everything kind of stops in my head and it’s hard to think or function some days. I become more socially withdrawn and inward. I view people with depression as humans who see, feel, and think harder and deeper than others, so another impact is I am highly sensitive to what changes, either moods or situations, for example.

What types of medications or medication alternatives have you used to try to treat it?
I definitely considered medication at one time, but wanted to try other methods of coping. This sounds odd, but medication to me is yoga and meditation. The jolt of endorphins I receive from both is the equivalent to pharmaceuticals for me. Studies have been conducted to show how the brain waves alter during meditation; it’s quite astounding. It’s what feels most natural to me!

Was it hard to consider travel during depressive episodes?
I have this strange ability to separate what I must do (travel) with what inner turmoil I’m struggling with. But once I do land somewhere, I tend to isolate myself and have no desire to see sights.

What have you noticed about how depression has affected you during your travels?
There has been episodes when I can’t make decisions on where to go next or to bother with logistics. Depression really saps my energy and often I feel exhausted.

If you have long time periods when you don’t travel, do you tend to experience a relapse?
Travel helps to distract me to some degree, but I’ve found that not traveling versus traveling a lot doesn’t affect the thoughts in my head much. They are there whether I’m inert or not. However, when I am traveling, I have noticed how much easier it is to get out of my head and spring into a newer mindset. Traveling as long as I have is the great reality check, too. Yes, I suffer when depressed, but have seen many others in the world suffering with much more, like where their next meal will come from.

Does living with depression change how frequently you travel?
I want to stay put somewhere longer and just hide in my hotel room. It also changes how I travel, not just frequency. I have difficulty keeping up with social events, and staying with friends becomes hard for me as I feel guilty that I’m not capable of being my usual self. I’m best as a lone wolf while I ride out a bout of sadness.

Have you found any non-travel-related activities that have a similar impact for you?
Again, yoga and meditation always help lift me outta my head and into a happier, more peaceful zone. Being in a live yoga class does the same. It’s a place I can meet like-minded people and feel a sense of community – and less alone.

There’s also no one-size-fits-all way to cope, find what works best for you. Most of all, never be ashamed of who you are or your feelings.

What advice do you have for other people who are dealing with depression?
You will have sunny days, along with the dark ones. And to accept that this is part of who you are, which is seen as a deficiency to many, but acceptance and employing tools to cope is the difference between chaos and balance. Strive for balance as much as possible, slow down and work on rebalancing when you’re not, and try to harness your empathic, sensitive nature in positive ways by writing or expressing yourself (art, photography, poetry). There’s also no one-size-fits-all way to cope, find what works best for you. Most of all, never be ashamed of who you are or your feelings.

Please tell my readers a little about yourself including your name, age, and anything else you think would be helpful.

I came out more than a decade ago to some colleagues, friends, and then to my siblings. Unfortunately, to some people I still have to stay for a while in the closet because of certain reasons (let’s say business-wise). Consequently, let’s say my name is Iulia.

I’ve turned 43 this summer, I come from a poor family and I am the old brother. Despite my folks’ status, I’ve managed to surpass it, so I am a post-graduate of a Communication and PR College. I’m what Americans would call a “self-made man,” but it was God who gave me all I had to make of myself what I am.

At what point did you realize you were gay, and did it take you a while to accept it?

I knew from my early childhood that there is something (ineffable…) which attracted me to boys and men, not girls and women. During the winter holiday of my 6th grade, I had my first homoerotic experience with one of my brothers-in-law, which continued for years after with another 2-3. As a matter of fact, I’ve been strongly attracted in my adolescence and early youth by men, although I would experience heterosexual relationships until I finally realized I couldn’t lie myself and the women for good. That was when I was 31 and, eventually, even 40 (!). So, what I’m trying to say is that all the back and forth “movements” in my life between an assumed gay life might prove that it wasn’t easy at all to accept my homosexuality in a certain historical context, i.e., Romania nowadays (and all those days).

Romania is a religiously conservative country. What role has religion played in your life growing up, and what role does it play for you as an adult now?

I used to be an atheist until I was 18, when I realized that there must be something up there who helped me to be accepted into college. Nonetheless, the social pressure (i.e,. the Christian “morality”) was pretty strong, and this feeling of “something is wrong with me” and the fear that I would be eventually punished by God for being “a sinner” was kind of unpleasant, anxious, and anguishing. After the revolution in December 1989, my religious views kind of changed. I had myself a short period of attending each and every Sunday liturgy, but that finished when I crazily fell in love for the first time with a man.

Then, again, over the last years I “switched” from being a non-practicing Orthodox to living according to the Oriental / New Age philosophy of love, acceptance, and Zen mood. At least I try it every day. So, buh-bye old bullshit about being a sinner for simply being a gay!

Are you able to be out with your family members? Coworkers?

As previously stated, I came out to my younger siblings almost a decade ago and to some colleagues as well, but to those ones whom I had closer relationships with (out of office). Nevertheless, I still think my parents rather prefer to lie to themselves that I will marry a woman someday, despite knowing I used to share an apartment with my ex-lovers ever since the beginning of the 2000s.

From another perspective, if I didn’t care about my parents’ “shame in front of people,” I would come out – maybe publicly – the very next second. So, since I have to protect them, I think I must postpone my total coming out until my parents leave this (stupid) world.

I’ve read that Romanian men can be so closeted that even if you spot them making out with another man in a club they’ll deny they’re gay or bi. What has your experience been?

Happily, I have never ever been asked “Are you gay?” by a person whom I didn’t feel comfortable to say “yes, I am.” So, bottom line, I haven’t had to lie. But when it comes to finding someone in a gay place (be it a club or whatever) who denies that s/he was gay while everyone or most of the others know for sure s/he was for sure, is so embarrassingly stupid for me. Eventually, it’s so sad to accept that some are so really terrified by their homosexual status to that extent that they have to put themselves at shame by denying in so many contexts.

How difficult is it for a gay man to live in Romania? You’re in Bucharest, which is a big city. Do you feel that life in Bucharest is different for a gay person than in other large cities in the country?

Yes and no. Things are so different nowadays compared to 10 or 20 years ago. I remember how dangerous it was in the 90s (and the early 2000s sometimes) to be a gay even in Bucharest. Put aside the social pressure (which kind of condemned you to keep lying and inventing “edible” scenarios about your private life!), it was the police who made your life hard by regular raids, then the homophobic guys who would beat you in the cruising areas or, worse, in the front of “gay bars” (not that we had in Bucharest more than one), and so on. The society as a whole was not open or prepared to “deal” with this indigestible matter of homosexuality. But things have changed a lot – for the better – over the last decade(s), and people are more and more liberal nowadays. And, yes, it seems it is a bit easier for a gay to live in Bucharest than in other big cities, save the Transylvanian ones, such as Cluj-Napoca, Timisoara, Brasov, etc. In my opinion, people are smarter there and more open than in the other historical provinces of Romania: Wallachia, Moldavia, and Dobruja.

Do you ever feel concerned for your safety when visiting a gay club or going on a date? How do you deal with relationships in a place where being closeted is the norm?

Not anymore when it comes to going to “the only gay club in the village (of Bucharest!)”, but “yes” if it was about a date, precisely what they call “public display of affection”. It is – sometimes unbearably so – frustrating for gay couples (esp. men) to be out of home and having to refrain from going hand in hand, not to say caressing or – God forbid – kissing. So, unfortunately and unhappily, provided you don’t want to be spit on or even beaten in the street, you’d better postpone your tender gestures for home or for hidden places. All over Romania.

Do you find it difficult to find men to date? If you and a partner wanted to live together, what precautions do you feel would be necessary?

Oh, no, finding plenty of men to date (I’d honestly, rather call it “getting laid”) is so easy nowadays thanks to the Internet and Information & Communication Technology. Of course, it is a matter of personal taste (I am not at all a fan of virtual meetings and hook ups), but it is better than nothing.

On the other hand, it seems that in Bucharest and big cities it was pretty simple, safe, and usual for two men to live together ever since the last decade or a bit earlier. I can remember that I started to share an apartment with my first BF in 1996 or so and apparently nobody complained. It was first because esp. the students used to do it, and – ironically – for such a conservative society like the Romanians used to be (and still is), it was understandable and acceptable because of pecuniary reasons.

Nonetheless, some precautions would be necessary when a male couple lives together, and especially regarding their families first of all and then the colleagues, who are both very curious and inquisitorial.

According to some surveys, Romanians dislike homosexuals only marginally less than the Roma. What has been your experience?

Well, I hope your (open-minded) readers would find this story as funny as I remember it. It was this break between two courses when I was a student, and during a small chat one of my colleagues asked, rhetorically: “I wonder how does it feel to be a Roma, a gay and a Jew at the same time.” And I had to say – unfortunately just to myself at that time – “Damn it, if I was a Hebrew, I would have said to him “Ask me!”

To be more precise, I am a Roma, and being also a gay was sad in the beginning, but at some point I chose to turn it to laughter and make fun of it. Yes, it was a burden for a while, but it’s not anymore. And I know for sure I was lucky, because not so many Roma gay people could “afford” such a (relaxed) attitude.

What advice would you give an LGBT foreigner who wanted to move to Romania?

First of all, I would recommend him or her to be very selective when it comes to coming out. Basically, s/he should give himself/herself time enough to get to know the “friends,” the colleagues, the next-door neighbors and even business partners. And then to come out only – and I mean only – if this personal, intimate aspect of his/her life is relevant to the others or beneficial for the relationship itself. Of course, if he was a drag queen or a very effeminate man, or if she was a butch, question marks might arise from the “environment.” In most of the cases nobody will ask you questions, but you never know: the old lady or – surprisingly – the younger one living next door might be intrusive. To avoid that, you’d better keep smiling and saying “hello” every day, but that’s all, folks. And, by the way, it is not that Romanians are repulsive, but it’s just a cultural difference: expect them not to smile or express happiness in case you show up on their front door with “a little something” when moving in next door. Some might refuse you because it never happened to them before.

Then, again, the Romanian society started to change for worse ever since the 1990s, and I mean we became more and more… Western or, pardon my French, alien. What I’m trying to say is that – esp. in the blocks of flats – people rarely know the neighbor next door, seldom interact one with each other and so on. Consequently, one should not be afraid of being gay or having a same-sex household anymore. However, there is a good part of the “Americanization” of Romanian society, which consists in the fact that since the Romanian John Doe had the opportunity to watch so many movies, soap operas, sitcoms and you name it, he had more chances to be more and more aware of this little thing called “homosexuality” or “being gay.” All of these kind of forced him to approach reality from different perspectives and – eventually – become more open-minded. Or not.

Last, but not the least, he (cause it doesn’t necessarily apply to women) should be very careful and rather restrained when it comes to – yes, you’ve already guessed it – the public display of affection. It’s sad, but it’s true. No country is perfect.

When you have a partner, are you able to be open about it with your family? Do they accept him in gatherings, for example, or is he “just a friend/flatmate”?

I used to take my partners to my parents’ place ever since 1993 when I got involved in my first gay relationship. Unfortunately, despite my parents liking them and knowing we (my partner and I) lived together all the time, I never told the naked truth. As I said before, I think my parents are not ready or willing to face the truth that their oldest son is gay. I’m pretty sure they would love me the same way they do now, but they never showed a “sign” of being open and/or intersted to approach the matter. Yet, my siblings kept inviting my partner and me to their places and vice versa ever since.

But I ought to say that – happily – I know some luckier (or braver?) guys who, once they came out to their families, their folks were pretty open and accepted the gay couple into their family to attend the gatherings, the Sunday lunche,s and so on. At the other end of the scale, I have heard of unfortunate guys who were almost literarily thrown in the street right after they came out to their parents. I also have close friends who live a secret life to their parents and/or entire families, lying to them all the way. Even my partner keeps pretending in front of his mother that he is in a relationship with a woman!

What are your thoughts about the life of gay people in Romania?

You recently sold most of your possessions, including your home, to create a new life for yourself. Where did you move and why did you choose this place out of everywhere else in the world?

I moved to San Miguel de Allende, Mexico. I had never been here before but had heard from a few friends who had lived here about how wonderful it is. I also read a few books that interviewed people who have moved here. I was wanting to explore my more artistic side with painting as well, and San Miguel is a community of artists. I love being surrounded by other artists in my life.

When you decided to begin this new lifestyle and sell everything, how did you feel? Was there ever a point where you doubted the wisdom of this decision? If so, how did you get past it?

Yes, everything happened so fast that I didn’t really have time to think about it. Once I decided to sell my house, it sold in two days, and I only had three weeks to be out it. But towards the end, when I had time to think (fear), I started wondering if I was crazy. I got past it by recognizing the fear, and realizing that I wouldn’t “die” by making this choice. And I admitted that, yeah, I was probably crazy, but I like my crazy self. I decided I’d rather be adventurous and crazy rather than stuck in the same place and not even trying to go after my dreams.

I’m sure people have told you how brave you must be to do this. We get that from time to time, and I can’t say that I feel particularly brave. It isn’t like we were the first to do something similar. How do you feel?

No, not brave. Crazy!! No, what did feel brave was being willing to give up the high-paying job that I had to do this. That did feel brave. To trade in security for the unknown. But it was something I just had to do. My soul was asking me to do this.

One of your dreams was to pursue your art. When did you first realize you were an artist? What inspired you to pursue that dream more fervently?

I have always felt like an artist with my cooking, my writing, my photography, and the way that I decorated my house. But painting was a new thing for me to explore. A painter friend of mine thought I would be a good painter and encouraged me to try it. What inspired me the most was taking my first painting class in Bali. I really lost myself in painting. It felt like a meditation to me. And, I really liked what I created. This encouraged me to explore that side of me further. I also want to find a place here to learn how to make pottery.

You spent some time in Bali which seemed to be a catalyst for you. Your story of taking a painting class inspired me to do the same when we were there, and it was also a pivotal time for me. How did your stay in Bali affect the decision you made to live your current lifestyle?

Being in Bali was definitely a pivotal time for me. They say that when you go to Bali, the healing energy of the place really shows you what path you are supposed to take. Before I went to Bali, I thought I would wind up becoming location independent and travel full-time. Being there and meeting amazing people showed me that I really need a home base with friends around, but I also need to be able to travel a lot, too. It inspired me to find a place to base myself out of and travel part-time. Of course, I may wind up finding a new place to base myself out of every couple of years. I have definitely tended to do that throughout my life!

Have you had to deal with any naysayers among your friends and/or family? If so, how did you deal with it? What advice would you give to others who encounter a lack of support with their “crazy” ideas/plans?

Really, only one friend tried to discourage me. He was worried about the crime in Mexico (which is way overplayed by the media). I tried showing him the facts. Now, that I’ve left, he doesn’t stay in touch with me all that much which makes me sad. I never let his naysaying influence me, though. I thanked him for his concern and moved on. I do have to thank my parents for being so supportive of this plan. That means a lot to me.

Mexico gets a really bad rap from the US media. Have you ever felt unsafe there? Would you recommend people visit Mexico?

No, I haven’t felt unsafe at all. In fact, I often feel safer than I did in Oregon where I came from. I would absolutely recommend people visit Mexico!! It is such a beautiful country and the people are so beautiful. They have such a passion for life. It’s contagious!! Every time I take a walk down the street, I see things that inspire me. Vibrantly colored buildings, scenes of street vendors making tacos, selling balloons, or handmade items. The main square has so much energy. I go there and people watch a lot! And the food! Some of the most incredible food that I’ve ever eaten.

I had gotten a little too comfortable, so comfortable that I was stuck in a rut. I was no longer growing.

How has your spirituality assisted you in making some of these big life decisions?

This whole decision has been a spiritual one. I felt like my soul was being called to do this. I had gotten a little too comfortable, so comfortable that I was stuck in a rut. I was no longer growing. I think travel makes you grow as a person more than anything else. I think I was being called to grow. I also love that I tend to meet more people in new areas. Part of my spirituality includes showing love to others, and I feel my heart expand when I am going through new experiences. I am going through a lot of changes right now, and I am learning to feel more love for myself and for others. I think being in a new place makes me want to be more intimate with others, too. I don’t want to just talk about the weather with my new friends. i want to go on a deeper level.

Now that you’ve been in Mexico for awhile, how do you feel about your decision?

I am so glad that I have made the decision to come here. I feel like I am right where I am supposed to be (at least for now!)

I am so glad that I made the decision to listen to my heart.

. . . give more attention to your dreams than to your fears.”

What advice would give you others who are considering making big life changes and/or pursuing their dreams?

I have so much to say on this topic that I’m actually writing a book on this subject right now. I’d say give more attention to your dreams than to your fears. Your fears will only cause you to miss the adventure that is your life. It will also cause all of us to miss out on what you have to offer the world. So, you won’t just be letting yourself down, but all of us down, too. Listen to your heart. It is the messenger from your soul.

–Val is convinced that she is half mermaid and is always looking for the next great beach. She writes the travel blog, This Way To Paradise, which is a guide to some of the best islands and beaches in the world and a conscious storytelling of her soul journey.

You can also connect with Val via Facebook and Twitter.

What was your experience with depression before you began travel?

When I stop and think about it, I feel that I was dealing with depression for a long time before I knew what label to apply to it. When I would spend weeks on end locked up in my college bedroom just writing and sleeping and wishing away the week, I figured it was just a funk I was in.

So while being out in the world and learning more about myself allowed me to see what was wrong and address it, it’s safe to say I spent most of my young adult through adult life dealing with depression. If anything, it’s far worse when I’m not on the road. Those itchy feet that get us all traveling are accompanied by a rapid loss of interest in anything and a withdrawal from the social scene.

It basically gets to the point that I have to travel because I’ve left myself with precious little else in my home life. The last two times I’ve been home for extended periods of time it has worsened to the point that I was calling in sick from work on a weekly basis, blowing off friends, and spending entire days without seeing sunlight. Travel definitely keeps that at bay better than being at home.

How has living with depression impacted your life?

It’s coloured a lot of what should be my happiest memories. I look at photos from an unforgettable trip and I remember that moments before it was taken I was dealing with near crippling anxiety or just a sense of self loathing that can’t be seen behind that well-rehearsed smile.

I’ve missed a lot of opportunities through that mix of inactivity and low self confidence that tends to be part and parcel of depression. I’ve had to spend most of the last six or seven years away from home because being there almost always leads back to dealing with my demons. That, in turn, has meant missing the births of my niece and nephew, the deaths of my grandparents, and the biggest moments in the lives of my friends and family.

It seems a selfish choice to make – giving up being there for them in exchange for a little peace of mind for myself.

What types of medications or medication alternatives have you used to try to treat it?

Prior to being given a diagnosis, I tried a bunch of things I read online. I wrote as a form of catharsis; originally poetry but later that evolved into keeping journals. I exercised on the advice of an ex-girlfriend and found that was quite good.

I even toyed with self medication when I learned how easy it was to get prescription medicine without a prescription in South Korea. In between messing with anti-depressants I also tried St John’s wort to no avail.

In the last few years I’ve had a more “conventional” treatment of therapy (when I am home), SSRIs, and a more active and social life.

Was it hard to consider travel during depressive episodes?

On the contrary! Travel and changing my situation is one of the first thoughts that crops up when I am in the depths of a dark period. It’s avoidance, I know, but almost all of my great travel adventures have begun with an immense sense of dissatisfaction with the life I am leading at home.

What have you noticed about how depression has affected you during your travels?

On the occasions where depression strikes abroad, it is generally a more benign beast than that I’d deal with at home. I generally manage to surround myself with good friends while abroad, so it’s easier to find a shoulder to cry on or an adventure to distract me.

That’s not to say it’s all peaches and cream. Depression has meant there are times where I waste weeks or months inside avoiding the real world when I could have been traveling and experiencing new things. Thankfully, those periods are becoming fewer and farther between.

If you have long time periods when you don’t travel, do you tend to experience a relapse?

Most definitely! As I said earlier, my darkest periods have been in early 2011 when I returned from South Korea and found myself in a rut, and again in early 2012 when I’d managed to carve myself out a life but found it wasn’t making me at all happy.

Does living with depression change how frequently you travel?

I travel a lot more because of my depression, but also a lot less. Depression often motivates me to make a drastic change like moving to South Korea or China, but it also means that once I get there I generally settle into a bit of a rut after a few weeks or months.

I’ve seen more of China’s farther flung provinces than I have of my own simply because it’s so easy for me to stay in bed (or in front of a PC) all day when a foul mood strikes. When I’m in Xinjiang or Sichuan for only a week, it’s a lot easier to drag my ass out of bed and force a smile.

Have you found any non-travel-related activities that have a similar impact for you?

Only running really comes close to travel when it comes to distracting me from my on again/off again relationship with the black dog.

I’m far from a hardcore runner, but only the thrill of a new adventure can match the smile that finishing a trying run can bring to my face. It’s usually short lived, but it’s magnificent while it lasts.

What advice do you have for other people who are dealing with depression?

Share your story. You might not want to do what I did and share your battle with depression with the world wide web, but talking to somebody and having them shoulder even the tiniest piece of your burden is a tremendous relief.

Being active is another thing I can’t recommend highly enough. Whether it’s a team sport or running or simply hitting the beach and having a harmless splash around in the breakers – getting out in the sun and getting your heart pumping is better than any amount of video gaming or alcohol consumption.

We really appreciate Chris and others who have shared their battles with dealing with depression. If you haven’t already, please check out the other interviews in our Living in Darkness series.

What was your experience with depression before you began travel?

Well I’d say I was almost born depressed, and I started to travel when I was 16, so it’s hard to say. That first trip (to France and Yemen with my best friend and his father) made me realize I needed to keep traveling and see the world. It helped build my confidence and lower my anxiety.

How has living with depression impacted your life?

It decided what type of work and schedules I could keep. It meant I didn’t always have a job or one I liked. It took me an extra semester to finish university because of my depression at the time.

What types of medications or medication alternatives have you used to try to treat it?

At some point I took Wellbutrin, then Celexa and then Zoloft for one day only. I ended up in the emergency with serotonin syndrome after taking one Zoloft, so that was no fun.

There was also lots of cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT), light boxes and tons of vitamin D and essential fatty acids (EFAs).

Was it hard to consider travel during depressive episodes?

I have a tendency to want to run away from stress and problems, so people knew me for being flighty. I say “knew” because I’m much more grounded now and don’t do crazy things anymore, but in the past, I always found a way to escape, even if it was just a weekend away.

What have you noticed about how depression has affected you during your travels?

I can’t say I ever really traveled while clinically depressed. But in general, when I’m away from home, I realize home is not really that bad, and I come back more able to cope with whatever I was running from.

If you have long time periods when you don’t travel, do you tend to experience a relapse?

No, I don’t believe there’s a correlation between needing to travel and my depression. I haven’t suffered from clinical depression in probably 7 years at least, so it can’t be the explanation for my wanderlust.

Does living with depression change how frequently you travel?

I think living with depression, or living with the extra effort of working to prevent another depression, as I do, changes how I live life in general. I don’t drink. I keep a very strict sleep schedule. I make sure to eat well. Those things alone can be very isolating since I don’t go to bars or party. When I travel and someone offers me a drink, it can be seen as insulting to not accept, so that’s another issue. And we all know how hard it can be to get proper sleep or food while traveling! It doesn’t change how frequently I travel, but it certainly changes the WAY I travel.

Have you found any non-travel-related activities that have a similar impact for you?

No, nothing beats getting out there and meeting new people, seeing how the other world lives and looking at special landmarks in person. Travel uses all the senses – taste, textures, colours, scents – it makes me feel alive. If you have something comparable, let me know!

What advice do you have for other people who are dealing with depression?

Talk to someone who will take you seriously. This might mean you have to try a few doctors first, but don’t give up. If your work has an employee assistance program (EAP), use it! There are support groups out there! Mostly, there is hope. It will get better (not overnight), but you will feel better eventually. Once you do get better, don’t live your life in fear of it coming back, just take care of yourself the best you can. Find out what works for *you* and stick to it. Like I said above, I need adequate sleep, stress management, a good diet and good friends. That’s *my* recipe to stay well and I accept that I have to stick to it for the rest of my life. Find your recipe and don’t fight it. We’re all different. Just do what works.

–Kelly is married and has a three-year-old son with autism. Her next big trip is in April to China, Japan and Korea. You can find her on Twitter as @TravelOptimist or @OneQuarterMama

What was your experience with depression before you began travel?

I’ve lived with depression, anxiety and OCD since I was 15 years old. At the ripe old age of 32, that’s over half of my life now. In high school, I had days where I just couldn’t face school. Luckily my parents understood and, after talking to them honestly about what was going on, so did the school administrators. I graduated with a horrible attendance record, but managed to eek out a decent GPA.

I had a child and got married pretty young, in my early 20s. I had wanted to travel since childhood, but somehow fell into the trap of cubicle jobs, a mortgage, and a meaningless consumption-driven lifestyle by my mid-twenties. My travel dreams seemed out of the question. My depression led to poor work performance and an unhealthy lifestyle. I coped with long days in a cubicle under fluorescent lights by smoking heavily, drinking every night, and surfing the web reading travelogues while I should have been working.

My only succor was in dreaming about escape. I would fantasize about just leaving everything behind and going, with or without my family, to some remote part of the world to start fresh.

I believe that the standard debt and consumption-driven American lifestyle contributes to depression in even people who would otherwise be healthy.

How has living with depression impacted your life?

I spent most of my 20s in a state of perpetual depression. It really robbed me of that decade of my life. I think that there’s a genetic component to it, and that I was born with a dearth of certain brain chemicals. But then, due to the depression, I made poor decisions early on and fell into bad habits which made things worse.

I believe that the standard debt and consumption-driven American lifestyle contributes to depression in even people who would otherwise be healthy. And in someone who’s prone to depression, it can lead you eventually to a breaking point.

Luckily, I reached that breaking point when I was 28, rather than, say, 50. I was making decent money as a Network Engineer. But I was working 50-hour weeks and had spent the past 5 years finishing my bachelor’s degree on top of it. My marriage had become toxic, my health was a wreck, and I had no mental energy for my child, for friends, or for hobbies.

As I said, it all finally came to a head. My wife and I split up after a series of particularly nasty fights. I was suddenly in the midst of a bitter, knock-down, drag-out divorce. Three weeks after the divorce proceedings began in earnest, I lost my job due to my poor performance, attitude, and attendance. I could no longer keep up with our mountain of debt on top of the legal fees.

So I had a decision to make. Continue to wallow in the downward spiral of depression, which would probably have led to suicide, or decide at that moment to see the loss of my job and my marriage as a blessing and to make some changes.

I chose the latter.

I began exercising. I quit smoking. I cut down on drinking. I vowed to never again work in a cubicle, even if it meant that I had to live under a bridge. For awhile, I lived with friends and family. But the lifestyle choices that I was making started to ameliorate the depression after all those long years.

I started working for myself, online, running a couple of websites and doing part-time tech support. I met someone else who shared my vision of a less conventional, lower stress lifestyle.

And I finally started to travel. In 2009, when I was 29, I took a leave from my online work, and we took a long 3 and a half week trip backpacking through the Yucatan peninsula of Mexico. I felt like I was being reborn. Those 3+ weeks were some of the best of my life and, although we’ve continued to travel steadily since then, I’ll never forget that first trip and the sense of possibility that it engendered in me.

What types of medications or medication alternatives have you used to try to treat it?

I’ve been on various medications since I was first diagnosed at age 15. Through my teenaged years and early 20s, I tried a variety of SSRIs. I was on Zoloft for most of my 20s, and my dose just kept going up year after year. I peaked out at 200 mg a day.

They also put me on 0.5 mg daily of Haldol for the OCD and intrusive thoughts when I was 23.

We think that we can live an unhealthy, unfulfilling lifestyle, and just take a pill to cope with it.

I really had no idea whether these were still doing anything for me, or whether I was just dependent on them. So after my “renaissance” a few years ago, I spent 6 months weaning myself off of the Zoloft. The result? Higher highs, but lower lows. I realize now that the high dose of Zoloft had dulled my emotions for years. My happy moments are so thrilling now that I’m able to feel them fully. I actually cry during sad movies now. Of course, the corollary is that I feed sad moments more fiercely also, but it’s worth it to me to be able to “own” my emotions and feel the entire range of them.

I also tried getting off the of the Haldol, but discovered that my OCD was really out of control when I did so. I would love to get off of it eventually but, for the time being I feel that the pros outweigh the cons.

I’ve come to believe that SSRIs are overprescribed for a variety of reasons. We, as Americans, want a magic bullet solution. We think that we can live an unhealthy, unfulfilling lifestyle, and just take a pill to cope with it. While some people truly need SSRIs for a short time to cope with a mental health crisis, taking them long term deadens our spirit, and prevents us from dealing with the lifestyle issues that cause depression in the first place.

With that being said, I DO still maintain a prescription for Zoloft and take it on an occasional basis, but never for a month at a stretch. In particular, I always take a bottle with me when I travel. I find that with the stress of travel and the loneliness that can come from extended periods in a foreign land away from close family and friends, there are times when I need to use it as a crutch. But at those times, I take the minimum dose, and plan from the start to get back off of it as soon as I feel able.

Was it hard to consider travel during depressive episodes?

Depressive episodes are when I most intensely feel the need for travel! I’m still especially prone to depression during the long, cold, grey winters in Michigan. So I plan most of my travel for those months. The planning gives me something to focus on, other than the way that I’m feeling. It gives me a purpose; a goal. I find that planning for travel when I’m depressed is almost as much a tonic as the travel itself.

What have you noticed about how depression has affected you during your travels?

On short trips – 3 weeks or less – I find that the change of pace and the sense of adventure completely washes the depression away. And I find that the rejuvenating effect lasts for weeks once I get home.

On longer trips, especially when I’m staying in one spot and working, I find that depression is something that I have to account for. When you’re on the road for many weeks or months at a time, it just becomes your life. When the initial excitement wears off, depression can sometimes rear its ugly head at inopportune times.

I find this to be especially true when I’m traveling alone, and find myself in stressful travel situations without anyone who’s close to me to turn to.

A couple of examples:

Last year, I flew into Costa Rica and ended up traveling overland through Nicaragua, with the intention of flying from Managua to the Corn Islands. As a small town Midwestern boy at heart, I wasn’t prepared for handling the chaos of Managua on my own. I came into downtown Managua on a bus, and was swarmed by vendors and shady characters when I stepped out into the market area where non-locals seldom venture. I jumped into a taxi to go to the airport.

On the way there, at a traffic light, I was solicited by a child prostitute, which I found intensely depressing. At the airport, I found out that I had to wait until the following morning to fly out. After another taxi ride through this grimy, crazy Central American metropolis to get to my hotel, the taxi driver doubled his fee at the last minute because he had provided the “additional service of putting my luggage into the trunk.”

The stress, the sadness about the child prostitute, and the knowledge that I was completely on my own led to a profound sense of depression and isolation. It just washed over me. I went to my room at the guest house, locked my door, and just sobbed for 10 minutes.

My saving grace was the excitement over getting to the idyllic Corn Islands the next day.

Another example was the trip that I just returned from last week. I had spent almost 3 months in Costa Rica, where I rented a house near the beach and did my online work part time. I had my niece with me this trip, and my current wife was able to spend about half of the trip down there with me.

At first, it was paradise. But after awhile, I started having my down days, just like I do at home. It’s just a part of life for me. Even in the perpetual tropical sunshine, I had days where I felt despair and started questioning every choice I had ever made. Most days were great. I had far fewer “down days” than I would have had at home. But as someone who tends toward depression, these days are just a fact of life, and they don’t disappear just because you’re in a tropical paradise.

I find that I have to engage the same coping mechanisms on the road as I do at home. I need to exercise regularly to keep my serotonin up. I need to eat right. I have to try and keep the partying to a minimum (not always easy when traveling). And I have to get past my introversion and reach out and make connections with other people who I meet locally. On my “dark days”, I baby myself. I’ll treat myself to a meal out. I’ll sit on the beach. I’ll lose myself in a good book. Anything to keep my mind off of the feelings and remind myself that they will pass, as they always do.

If you have long time periods when you don’t travel, do you tend to experience a relapse?

It’s very seasonal for me. Summer time in Michigan is beautiful, and there’s enough to do to keep busy with seeing friends, traveling regionally, and maintaining my garden that I don’t feel the intense drive to travel during the warm months.

Winter in Michigan, though, isn’t like winter most other places. And without travel, I always experience a prolonged relapse at some point during the winter. What’s different about Michigan in winter is the lack of sunshine. It’s some kind of effect related to being surrounded by the Great Lakes. Other places may have colder winters, or snowier winters. But I’ve never been anywhere else where winter means not seeing sunshine for 10 days at a stretch. The grey skies can be suffocating.

So rather than deal with prolonged depression during Michigan winters when I don’t want to get out of bed for weeks at a time, I travel. Now that I’ve tasted it, I feel like I don’t have a choice anymore. As I said above, I’ll still have “dark days” while I’m in the tropics. But I don’t experience the debilitating weeks or months long ruts like I do during Michigan winters.

Does living with depression change how frequently you travel?

Travel is something that I feel driven to do nowadays. And I feel that drive whether I’m feeling depressed or not. If I’m going to have depressive episodes, I’d rather work through them on a beach in the Caribbean, or while exploring Mayan ruins, than sitting at home on my couch.

Have you found any non-travel-related activities that have a similar impact for you?

Yes, but very few. The things in life that give me the most satisfaction and stave off depression are deep connections with other people, a connection to the land, and the excitement of travel. When I’m not traveling, I find that deepening my connections with family and old friends has a tonic effect. My gardening addiction provides a great deal of relief in my struggle against depression as well. When I’m working in my garden during the warm months, I feel a connection to the planet and to all life on earth that’s similar to what I feel in my best travel moments.

I guess I see my ideal lifestyle as one that combines those things. As a result, we’re considering a permanent move to the tropics in the coming years. We’ve got close friends now in Puerto Viejo, Costa Rica. A move there would allow me to continue to connect with friends and the community and provide for year-round tropical gardening, while allowing for frequent and affordable trips exploring the rest of Central/South America and the Caribbean.

What advice do you have for other people who are dealing with depression?

• Get away from the default American lifestyle. It’s destroying the planet, it’s destroying our bodies, and it’s destroying our souls. There are so many other options aside from the default that’s been forced on us since we were kids.
• Get out of the cubicle.
• Get out of debt – just walk away from it and file for bankruptcy if you have to.
• Eat organic, non-GMO, local foods.
• Get off of the Internet and away from your TV and meet your neighbors.
• Exercise – it’s a revolutionary act in our sedentary, car-based culture, and I promise that it’s 100 times more effective than any antidepressant.
• Get off of all of the unnecessary medications to the degree that it’s possible for you.
• Do meaningful work.
• Learn to live with less. Do you really need that huge house and expensive car that you’re working a toxic job to be able to afford?
• Know your limitations, but practice going beyond them. Treat yourself right.
• Travel. Explore. Have adventures. Even if it’s only in your own region or city.

Any thing else you’d like to add?

I feel like I’ve just written a novel. That pretty much covers it!

I’d like to think Trever for his willingness to be so open with us and share his story. I hope his story, and the others in this interview series, helps someone else who is dealing with depression or with a loved one suffering from the illness.

What was your experience with depression before you began travel?
I was 13 years old when my life changed. One day I seemed to wake up and my mind had gone. To this day I don’t know the trigger of my depression. My mental illness began with psychotic depression, with me hitting the self-destruct button for 3 years pushing everyone away, but I was 16 before being officially diagnosed (a diagnosis I never shared with my family…to this day my mum still thinks the ‘rebellion’ was me being a ‘typical teenager’). I don’t remember much of those first years though there was a night I’ll never forget. I was 14 and I had been pacing in my room for 5 hours getting increasingly jittery and at 4 AM I finally collapsed on my floor in tears convinced that, not only was I a schizophrenic but that I was in hospital receiving treatment, I was just too ill to realise. That night scared me beyond words.

I then sunk into a deep depression and self-harm (cutting) became my friend, my medication and my counsellor for the next 3-4 years. I went nowhere without my knife, even (accidentally) to the airport when I was 19 (which was an interesting conversation with security) because it was the only thing that helped.

Slowly, as I grew up and another year with depression passed, I began to learn more about the illness and how it effected me in daily living. I learnt my triggers and ways to avoid them as much as possible. I realised how to lie well enough to hide my depression and I learnt that it makes me extremely empathetic and compassionate towards other people that are struggling (something I wouldn’t trade in a million years).

And you know what happened when I began travelling? I finally appreciated the ultimate lesson of depression and became thankful that all the attempts I’d made on my life over the years had failed. I realised that without experiencing such dark times throughout my life, I could never truly appreciate the europhically happy moments I experience on the road and those moments, however brief, can never be forgotten.

How has living with depression impacted your life?
I literally don’t know where to begin in trying to answer this. I could tell you that it spent a few years totally f*cking up my life because I was too young to truly appreciate what depression was (and therefore not only have a graveyard full of skeletons but an ocean of regrets), how it specifically acted in my life or what I could do to help control it a little better. Or I could tell you that actually, whilst I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy, sometimes (and that’s a very small sometimes) I’m grateful for it because of the unique life perspective its given me. Don’t get me wrong, when I’m too depressed to talk, let alone eat, I want nothing more than to be rid of this disease but for all the years I have suffered, I have also learnt some incredible life lessons (albeit the extremely hard way). I don’t take shit from anything or anyone, I know what it means to have a true friend and to be one and even if I am, metaphorically, sitting on the edge of a cliff contemplating jumping, if you need me, I’m there because I know how it feels.

What types of medications or medication alternatives have you used to try to treat it?
I have tried so many over the last 8 years that I can’t remember the names not to mention increasing the dosages of each one. It’s a lengthy process trying a new one…to get a real measure of whether it works for you or not you need to take it for weeks or months at a time and it seemed that many, after giving me an initial release of my depression, stopped working; I’ve yet to find one that works for me over the long run. It’s a tiresome journey and one, I fear, that may last a lifetime.

Was it hard to consider travel during depressive episodes?
The first time I travelled in the sense of backpacking was in March 2010 and I can’t deny that I wasn’t apprehensive about how my depression would affect me. I worried travelling solo could mean feeling alone and unhappy and that nights in hostels would mean I would lose out on sleep (one of the biggest factors in lowering my mood). Unfortunately, six weeks before I left for my trip, not realising I was pregnant, I suffered a miscarriage. I told myself to ‘stick my feelings in a box’ and ‘get on with it’ because I didn’t have time to deal with my grief so I ignored what had happened. It wasn’t until I began travelling, away from familiar people and places that I allowed myself to feel the grief. I had some amazing times in those 3 months around Asia but for the majority of the time I was either ‘numb’ or very depressed. Sometimes I would go days without talking to anyone but shop workers when I picked up water etc and occasionally I’d book a private room just so I could cry myself to sleep. But I took so many lessons about myself and depression home with me after going through it. Travel allows you to quietly unpack your baggage and gives you time to put it back in neatly and it was exactly what I needed to do. Some days were a lot harder than others but I kept going no matter what and experienced some truly life-affirming times in those three months.

Your blog’s name has some special significance. Please share that story with us.
When I started my blog in 2009, it was just as a diary for my pending travels so my friends and family could keep up. I’d just left a 4.5 year relationship after accepting I was no longer in love with him and moved back home; I was newly single and ready to begin a new life hoping that I would find my happiness on my way. I wanted a name that reflected both my present and future journey so chose ‘reclaiming my future’ because I had lost so much of my past to depression that I wanted to take back control of my life and make my dreams come true.

What have you noticed about how depression has affected you during your travels?
Travelling with depression, for me, means that often the ‘annoyances’ of backpacking such as transport delays have so much more significance to them. When things don’t go smoothly or I perhaps have a bad encounter with someone, it can bring me down so suddenly and being a solo traveller doesn’t necessarily help that as I have no one to share the burdens with, it’s a bittersweet Catch-22.

Tiredness, however, is my biggest trigger to a bad day when I’m travelling. If I haven’t slept well or had enough rest, anything that goes wrong seems magnified so I make sure that I find a private room or hotel room every now and then to completely recharge for a night or two so that I can ‘face the world’ again feeling a little more human and ready to take all the challenges on.

If you have long time periods when you don’t travel, do you tend to experience a relapse?
I won’t lie; it doesn’t help. Everyone experiences down times for weeks or months after they return from a big trip, especially if they don’t know when they’re travelling again, and I’m no different it’s just that, already having depression, that ‘home low’ can sometimes get very dark and I wonder how I can keep going if I haven’t booked another adventure. I may not necessarily relapse but it’s a constant worry.

Does living with depression change how frequently you travel?
If anything, travelling with depression makes me want to travel MORE frequently. If there’s one thing I’ve learnt over the years of living with depression is that leaving home, not staying in it, makes me happy. Whilst it may be incredibly hard for me to get on the plane because of how depressed or worried I am, I know that within days I will begin to find my serenity again. If I become depressed on the road, I just stop for a few days and have some down time by myself. I find a private room, get myself dinner and just do what I want, when I want until I feel stronger to keep moving so no, depression doesn’t stop me travelling, it just slows me down occasionally when it hits.

Have you found any non-travel-related activities that have a similar impact for you?
Truthfully? Nothing comes close to it and I struggle because of it. However, I have found that writing, whilst it doesn’t make me overtly happy, incredibly cathartic (whatever mood I’m in) and it does help to ease my depression if I can find the energy to write. Getting caught up in a good book, when I can stay focused, is a pretty good way to ‘lose yourself’ for a while too. Essentially, the thing that helps me the most is ‘words’, in any format.

What advice do you have for other people who are dealing with depression?
Do whatever you need to do and try everything! By that I mean, try medication and if that doesn’t work, try counselling or yoga, or a healer – keep going through the checklist because however tiring or frustrating it is, you WILL find one that works for you either completely or at least eases your pain.

And when I say ‘do whatever you need to’, I mean that once you find what works for you even in the smallest of ways such as watching a movie or reading a page of your book each night; do it! If you need to spend time alone instead of at a family gathering, do it! I skipped out on my normal Christmas gathering last month because I couldn’t cope with so many people etc and although they were upset I wasn’t going, they understood. When it comes to getting yourself better, you need (in the politest of ways of course) to be selfish because only you understand your needs and what helps you! If you have your family and a good set of friends around you, they will understand and will want you to get better.

Any thing else you’d like to add?
I suppose I would like to say, to people that don’t suffer depression but know of people that do; we can’t just pull ourselves together and smile because you ask us to. That’s like asking someone who has cancer to simply get better because you’re ‘fed up of seeing them so ill’. Depression is an illness; a terribly destructive, manipulative and selfish illness.

We’re not asking for sympathy when we say that ‘nothing is going right’; we’re asking for empathy and compassion that, in our minds, really, NOTHING is going right however you try and spin it for us. Even when positive things happen to us, we find the negative side to them but it’s not us talking, it’s the depression. When depression takes hold; thing of us as mimes…our mouths may do the talking but it is the illness speaking the words so please don’t hold it against us if you don’t like the answers!

Speaking of answers; don’t try and put logic to them because it won’t make sense and it won’t make us feel any better. Just because I KNOW that paying off my loan will make me feel better, it doesn’t mean I can find the energy to do anything about it; I’m not lazy, I’m ill. Having depression, when it comes to getting better, is like being in a bubble. On the outside of the bubble you can see the answers to your problems but you just can’t burst the bubble to get (or act upon) those answers which is a cruel torture in of itself. Knowing what I need to do and being able to do and believe in them are very different things.

How can I tell you what it feels like to be depressed? You’ve had three hours of sleep and the alarm is blaring in your ear. The sickening realization that you have to get out of your warm bed and put your feet on the cold floor.  They’re all waiting for you, you have no choice.

What was your experience with depression before you began travel?
Puberty. The gift that brings tits, also brings trouble. While blossoming into a young lady awkwardly trying to figure out bras and mascara, my new hormones were also throwing curve balls at me.

It felt like being trapped in a bubble. I can hear you talking just fine, but your words aren’t penetrating the barrier, they’re not getting through- something’s in the way.

My solution was sleeping more than waking, so that I didn’t have to feel it: the pain, the nothingness, the heavy blanket of blah that had been draped over me.

How has living with depression impacted your life?
Oh it’s the best– you’ve got to try it!! Just kidding. Being depressed has made me funnier, because when you’re laughing, you’re not realizing there’s something wrong. That I’m not lifting my eyes to yours, that I am trapped inside of my head, fruitlessly running in a hamster wheel of sickness.

Depression has made me introverted (though you’d never notice), and very nearly divided in two. Living inside my head are these ugly thoughts, but if you don’t have something nice to say, don’t say anything at all, right? Instead I opt to talk fluff, politely agree and nod my head because it’s too hard to say what I actually feel, what I think.

Living with depression means I carry a mask at all times, ready to throw on a smile at the drop of a joke.

What types of medications or medication alternatives have you used to try to treat it?
Therapy. I gave it my best effort. I did my part, talking, answering, thinking, wearing turtlenecks and nodding deeply, in sync with the therapist to show my accord. Leaving the office, I’d feel no different.

Social drinking was an excellent excuse to have a glass of wine with friends, take your mind off “things” and let the good times roll. Then it got to the point where the social aspect of the drinking was no longer desirable, only the buzz, that uncontrolled stagger of the mind and body. Thoughts come and go as they please, filtered through 70-proof vodka. It didn’t work.

Was it hard to consider travel during depressive episodes?
On the contrary, it was hard to focus on “real life”. There seemed to be so much more waiting for me on the other side of the life I was living.

What have you noticed about how depression has affected you during your travels?
Travel is not a cure-all for depression. There have been moments of my travels that have brought me to darker places than ever before. Seeing the poverty of our planet, child sex slaves, war victims, and something as simple and impactful as neglected animals have penetrated my heart and left me short of breath at times. It’s easy to let these upsetting issues merge with my own depression and become one massive unsolvable problem.

Many long-term travelers that I have had the pleasure of meeting experience depression in one form or another, and it’s a topic that is easily broached after a hard day of travel. There’s something about being two people out of your own country that forges a bond with a fellow traveler, and the walls come down. I’ve had some of the more honest, open and uplifting talks of my life in hostels with people I met merely moments before.

If you have long time periods when you don’t travel, do you tend to experience a relapse?
It’d be safer for me if I had rubber walls after a bout of non-travel. Anxiety for the road and disdain for everything that is not travel silently mount and attack like a tsunami at the most inconvenient of times.

Some days I find it very difficult to care about things that aren’t travel related. Having learnt this is what makes me come alive, it’s too hard to care about the obligations of daily life that don’t directly result in travel.

Does living with depression change how frequently you travel?
Absolutely. After discovering the magic of solo travel in 2006, it was something I lusted after. Hard. I dreamed of a nomadic life, and remembered fondly the sweet taste of freedom that saw beams of light through the darkness. I spent several months abroad over the next three years, and finalized my plan to live permanently abroad in 2009.

It’s almost as if I am on the move, the depression can’t catch me.

Have you found any non-travel-related activities that have a similar impact for you?
Exercise: If there’s not some daily physical activity, my mind starts to feel it, and after a few days of not exercising, my mood is positively miserable.

Orgasms. Because sometimes heaven does come before death.

Proper Water Intake and Nutrition. If we do not water a plant, it wilts before it dies. It’s not as easy to see the visible signs of human wilting, but I have come to feel the difference within my body when it’s nourished. It’s all mental—I take care of myself because I love myself, I love myself because I take care of myself.

What advice do you have for other people who are dealing with depression?
Keep trying. Keep a diary of the thoughts you’re not willing to say to anyone else, but make sure to record the good along with the bad. This helps to give perspective and remember that it’s not all dark.

Nurture your friendships with those you know to be good for you. It can be very hard to reach out to people and ask them for help when you’re swimming against the tide of depression, but sometimes even a silent presence can be enough.

Any thing else you’d like to add?
If you’re reading this because you suffer from depression then you already know what I am saying to be truth.
We call this depression darkness, because it can dim the lighting of our lives to the point of being pitch black. But those moments when the sun breaks through: be it your first breath in a new country, learning a new word, or experiencing the sheer overwhelming beauty of the world hits you like a ton of bricks. Everything is lighter than light.
Against the blackness of depression the moments of happiness shine blinding white. We are the lucky ones, who pack up our depression, carrying it on our backs and leaving a small piece of it behind in every country.

What was your experience with depression before you began travel?
Since I now have years of 20/20 hindsight, I can say that I have probably been depressed since I was a child. A seemingly charmed upper middle class American life was fraught with turmoil, and sexual abuse at the hands of my father. However, it wasn’t until I was in my late 20’s that clinical depression became a “thing” and was acknowledged and addressed by the medical community on a large scale, but the stigma still existed and I did much to ignore it. I always tried to convince myself that it was situational, and if I changed this or that the depression would cure itself.

How has living with depression impacted your life?
It impacted every moment of my life. From the ability to stay on top of bills, to the university classes I was trying to complete, to the ability to maintain a relationship with my daughter, as well as relationships with friends and significant others. I found myself becoming increasingly selfish, although I am, by nature, a very giving person. I lost a great deal before I was able to recognize the situation for what it was, an illness.

What types of medications or medication alternatives have you used to try to treat it?
I was prescribed a multitude of antidepressants, but the side effects made it very difficult to maintain the daily dose. I couldn’t deal with the spaced-out feeling, the drowsiness, and the sense of absolute numbness. It was almost as if I had traded feeling sad and hopeless for feeling nothing at all. I was also prescribed, and over prescribed, Xanax for anxiety, but that was a slippery slope I wasn’t prepared to go down, and I found myself addicted. Because I was under the care of a county mental health system, my medications and my reactions to them weren’t monitored very closely, and I found myself in worse shape than when I started. I had to self-wean from Xanax, which is a dangerous undertaking even with medical supervision. Luckily, I survived.

Was it hard to consider travel during depressive episodes?
For me, travel was the thing that kept me treading water. Just the thought of seeing, doing and experiencing something new allowed me to escape when I had those moments when I was stuck in my head. When I finally did begin my long-term travel quest I found myself in a country whose medical community doesn’t subscribe to the US method of tossing antidepressant prescriptions around like candy. With the help of a kind and knowledgeable psychiatrist, I became drug free in a matter of months.

What have you noticed about how depression has affected you during your travels?
Honestly, in the two and a half years that I have been traveling, my symptoms have lessened dramatically. When I do have “those” moments, I feel like my own self-coping skills have increased to the point that I have no problem handling my situation. I also have the support of a very kind, grounded and rational person who has helped me in more ways than I can count.

If you have long time periods when you don’t travel, do you tend to experience a relapse?
Not so much anymore. Again, I think the coping skills I’ve learned as well as the support I receive have helped me maintain through all types of situations.

Does living with depression change how frequently you travel?
Not in the slightest. There will never be a time that I turn down a travel opportunity because I’m depressed. Just like many other people who have found that their passion is bigger than the disease, I have mine, and it has worked well so far!

Have you found any non-travel-related activities that have a similar impact for you?
Exercise always helps, as does eating well

What advice do you have for other people who are dealing with depression?
Listen to your doctors, but listen to yourself more. Investigate alternative therapies that don’t involve pharmaceuticals. Get involved in an activity that takes you outside of yourself.