When I started to realize I needed serious help getting out of this depression, trust me it was no small undertaking reaching out for help. It wasn't that I was ashamed or embarrassed by the stigma depression holds, that didn't bother me in the least. I knew I needed help and I didn't have a problem asking for it simply because I knew I was going to die one way or another if I didn't reach out to someone that could help me. The real problem was, I couldn't make it out of the house to go any place. I could hardly make it out the front door to drive to the corner for food! Let me tell you, going outside or in public after you have been closed up in the house for weeks or months, is like stepping outside of prison after you served a twenty year sentence. You don't know how to act, everything you say or do feels awkward, the sun is so bright, the world feels so wide open. It is overwhelming. There have been times that it has lead to serious anxiety attacks for me. I knew that is what I was headed for if I didn't somehow get myself mentally ready to face the world and go to a doctors appointment.
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