Raised in inner-city Melbourne, Despina is 46 years-old. She married at 17, worked hard in healthcare, and had two children.
“It was the Australian dream,” says Despina, reflecting on the time before the nightmare of depression blocked out everything good and true and worth living for.
“Nothing could break me, not the end of my marriage, not the death of my parents, but the thought of the death of one of my children, brought me to my knees. That broke me.”
Despina’s clinically diagnosed depression was the result of witnessing her children’s near death in a road accident in 2007. For others who suffer depression, the causes are many and varied. Despina’s symptoms reflect the hopeless emptiness that all victims of depression experience.
“I didn’t know who me was anymore. I heard a lot of ‘snap out of it’ from some people, ‘get over it’. So I’d keep everything inside. Friends saw someone who had lost the glow, someone who isolated themselves. I just wanted to hide under my doona”.
“I felt like you were the loneliest person on the face of the earth. Nothing was positive.” Despina doesn’t remember her admission to a psychiatric clinic. But it was only then, with medical help, that she began the first baby steps needed to reclaim her life.
Nick (43) was born in Greece and has lived in Melbourne for most of his life. He traces the beginning of his depression to the fights that accompanied his marriage falling apart.
“I didn’t believe such a thing existed. I went into a zone. I didn’t want to be around people,” he says.
Like so many, Nick says he was at first reluctant to share his feelings with friends or seek medical help.
“I thought it would be seen as a sign of weakness.”
Unaware of the scale of the looming problem, Nick was soon unable to hold down his job, and his spiral of despair began in earnest. “I was closing up. I felt the whole world was swallowing me”.
Finally, 18 months ago, he began regular Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT) sessions. CBT focuses on improving thought patterns, identifying unhelpful thinking, and learning how to substitute positive thoughts for negative ones.
The days are brighter now. There’s a way to go, but Nick’s begun the journey.
“I’ve really improved, I’m more optimistic, I am on medication, but you can’t just rely on that, otherwise you’ll be on it for the rest of your life.”
Nick’s advice to others who may be on the edge of the abyss of depression is simple:”Open up as soon as you can. The more you delay it, the worse it gets.”
More than just a low mood, depression is a debilitating illness suffered by over a million Australians today.
Despite the efforts of organisations like beyondblue to reduce the stigma it carries, depression is still a condition that many feel unwilling or unable to acknowledge within the family, or to seek medical help to overcome.
Though depression is one of the most common health problems, as was Nick’s experience, most people are often reluctant to talk about it or acknowledge its severity. This reaction is even more evident in the Greek Australian community than the general population.
One of the few studies to compare levels of depression between elderly Greek Australians and the equivalent Anglo Australian population was undertaken in 2004 by Melbourne clinical psychologist
Dr Litza Kiropoulos. Dr Kiropoulos’ research, published in the Australian and New Zealand Journal of Psychiatry, confirmed that Greek-born respondents (with an average age of 68), were more than four times as likely to fall into the moderate to severe depression categories than their Anglo Australian counterparts.
Kia Antoniadis, a counsellor with Victoria’s Australian Greek Welfare Society has been working with families for 20 years.
Antoniadis’ experience confirms the extent of the problem within the elderly Greek community.
“It’s very common. Of the 300 clients we met with last year, 120 had depression,” Antoniadis says.
Unsurprisingly, the difficulties of aging in a demographic that is partly defined by its limited education and bilingual proficiency, is closely related to levels of depression.
“Many older Greek people think that you only go to a counsellor if you’ve lost the plot, that you’re ‘crazy’,” says Antoniadis. “A lot I see are in their sixties and over, and most have the condition because of illness or disability, either themselves or their spouse.
“Many of their practical issues and problems can’t be resolved, but our counselling is about how you deal with the stress and anxiety – how you cope with such problems can be changed. It’s about understanding yourself.”
Peter Kyriakoulis is the psychologist who has been helping Despina and Nick on the road to recovery.
“Both were referred by their GPs,” says Kyriakoulis. “Despina’s symptoms were precipitated by a single event, whereas Nick’s were a build up of particular stresses, such as his divorce, financial stress, migration to Australia, and limited social support.”
Though the highest levels of depression are to be found in the elderly, Kyriakoulis’ clients come from a wide demographic. “It’s across the board. I see a whole range – from 30 years-old and upwards. Usually, depression is caused by a number of interacting factors that exceed an individual’s normal powers of adaptation.”
Kyriakoulis, who is director of Melbourne’s Positive Psychology Centre, points to the standard tests for depression that any potential sufferer can apply to themselves, or a friend or family member can use to identify a loved one at risk.
“Sadness, pessimism, lack of decisiveness, low motivation and low energy: If someone has these or similar symptoms for more than two weeks, that’s the basic test for clinical depression. But there are other markers – feelings of worthlessness, low self-confidence, guilt, and physical symptoms – changes in appetite, sleeping patterns, and feeling tired,” says Kyriakoulis.
“I’ve helped Despina and Nick through ‘psycho-educating’ them about their illness. They’re now more in touch with their values, they’re more resilient and can identify when they may be slipping back into depression, and they can use the skills they’ve learned, to bounce back.”
Kyriakoulis’ message for all who suffer from depression is one of hope: “People can go through it and get out the other side. The chances are really good.”
Despina is still on medication, but after three years of help, she’s back at work and able look the black dog that stalked her, squarely in the eye.
“Today I belong to me again. I found myself again,” she says. “You want to feel normal instantly, but that doesn’t happen. You have to crawl before you walk. It’s a long road back. The community is starting to understand mental illness, that it’s not contagious, that it is real, and depression is a demon that you can’t put a Band-Aid on.”
To fellow sufferers, Despina’s advice, based on her own gruelling experience is heartfelt: a call to arms to all affected by, or at risk of clinical depression.
“You can’t ignore it. You can’t deny it because it won’t go away. Accept it and seek help. When you’re in the hands of a good psychologist, you will have knowledge that will help you deal with it, and you will be able to see light at the end of the tunnel.”
For confidentiality, the names ‘Nick’ and ‘Despina’ have been substituted for the real names of the individuals who kindly agreed to share their experiences for this article. The quotations, biographical detail and their stories are authentic.