This article is not something that I enjoyed writing, and it’s something that I certainly would not have even considered when I was still in the professional arena, as it may have been career-ending — or career-hindering, at the very least. My motivation in being candid about my personal experience with depression and the use of psychotropic medication is for the benefit of other executives who now or may in the future suffer from depression, and to provide insight about my experiences, navigation of workplace obstacles, treatment and recovery.

First, a little bit about my background. With my dual parallel careers as a law enforcement officer and a Marine, I can come as close as anyone to saying that I have seen it all! For me, horrific situations have been everyday occurrences and job security. While others may disagree, I think that I have done a reasonably decent job in dealing with the multiple challenges associated with long and complicated civil and military careers, routine and dangerous and spanning everything from entry-level assignments to high-level leadership. Tenured executives will understand another reality: some of the greatest challenges are found in the bureaucratic arenas versus the streets or the battlefields! Certainly, like all of us, I know and have also survived the pain associated with the loss of loved ones. Through it all, and often with the reinforcement of various support systems, I have weathered many storms.

The storm that I was not able to weather on my own was that of a major depressive disorder, commonly referred to as clinical depression, which is characterized by at least two weeks of pervasive low mood, low self-esteem and loss of interest or pleasure in normally enjoyable activities. By the time I was able to understand the criteria, I was way beyond the definition.

While being candid about the details of my ordeal, I choose to keep the specifics of where I was during the ordeal to myself. With 45 years and seven agencies in the public safety workplace and an overlapping 39 years in the Marine Corps, with literally dozens of assignments and command between the two careers, and another overlap of over 20 years as an adjunct professor and nationwide leadership coach, I will let the reader try to figure out where I was and what I was doing when my clinical depression occurred.

My difficulties arose over an administrative issue that I mistakenly saw as career-ending and much more serious than it really was. I have always been an occasional excessive worrier and oftentimes conscientious to a fault. Despite the assurances of colleagues that my issue was no big deal, it seemed like a big deal to me and just started getting larger and more emotionally painful as time went on. 

Over a period of several weeks, the issue was on my mind and grating on me constantly, interrupting not only my sleep but my everyday activities as well. The demon was constantly occupying every issue during my waking hours, the only respite being sleep — which, before long, became impossible. With the inability to sleep and the constant obsessive worry, my demons became bigger and seemingly insurmountable. I was in a downward and dangerous emotional spiral that I did not recognize or have the ability to control. 

A very dear friend brought another friend, who was a tenured physician, to visit with the intent of the three of us going to dinner. After a few short moments, the physician friend made a comment to the effect that I was in a bad place and needed immediate assistance, which I neither understood nor argued with. My physician friend contacted a colleague who was a psychiatrist and set up an emergency meeting for the following morning, then installed me in a hotel close to the psychiatrist’s office and monitored me throughout the night, thinking that I may have been suicidal.

The following morning, I met with a very gracious and helpful psychologist who prescribed Prozac for the depression, a sleep aid (which worked great) that I do not recall and Ativan for short-term anxiety episodes. The doctor was sensitive to my community visibility and the likely adverse potential impact to my career and, at my request, made the medication prescriptions out to a pseudonym, which for the duration of my illness I had filled outside of my sphere of visibility. (Please note that this regimen and these medications were specific to my situation and should not be considered applicable to others. These are critical decisions that must be made on a case-by-case basis by medical professionals.)

Outside of my sphere of close friends and family members, I was able (barely, at times) to conceal my illness, which was especially difficult before and during the roughly two-week period before the medication regimen took hold. The obsessive concern was always right beneath the surface, and I was more or less on autopilot in just about everything that I did in the workplace. My deep knowledge of the subject was such that in one instance, right in the middle of some of my darkest moments, I received a standing ovation for my remarks at a well-attended major luncheon! I was thankful for my reservoir of bulls—t!

After the medication started taking hold, I was constantly somewhat of an automaton and generally in a calm state, which enabled me to give the appearance of functioning normally. In that state, I was occasionally able to engage in detailed conversations and temporarily push the demons away, which I could sense was a step in the right direction and hopefully a path to recovery. Although things were going in a positive direction, I did have several serious bouts with anxiety that caused me to rush to the men’s room to take one of the Ativan tablets, including
one situation where I had to exit a meeting in the middle of a serious discussion, feeling that my mind was about to explode.

The duration of my illness and recovery was about three months. Toward the end of my illness, I had seemingly reached and was stuck at a plateau when a loved one, who certainly had been suffering alongside me, made it clear that the time had come for me to snap out of it — and I did. I put the medication away and gradually resumed my normal personal and professional activities.

The psychological pain of depression was just as severe as any physical pain that I have ever experienced! I was hurting badly and just wanted the pain to end, and I can easily understand why some clinically depressed people take their lives: they want the pain to go away. I remain deeply grateful to the two friends who recognized the severity of my condition and took strong and immediate measures to get me the help that I needed. These wonderful friends definitely saved my career and very possibly my life. 

I hope that the value of the information that I have provided will be worth my humiliation in describing this very painful period in my life. At the ripe old age of 80, my job searches and professional challenges are behind me, and having to worry about jeopardizing future opportunities is no longer something that I need be concerned about. However, because of my experiences I learned that I was far from alone, and that clinical depression is alive and well and remains a very real factor in our workplaces. I strongly urge those folks now in the workplace to be sensitive to this reality, not only for themselves but for others as well, and take measures to deal with depression when it rears its ugly head. Exterior strength and bravado can often mask interior weaknesses and vulnerability, and there are times when that reality is not recognized until it is too late to save a career, marriage or life. Depending on the circumstances, everybody is susceptible to depression, which at certain levels absolutely requires the involvement of mental health professionals to address. There are some journeys that require a professional person at our side.

Certainly, the primary responsibility of a leader is to professionally manage an organizational entity. But a close second is the welfare of the men and women in that organization. I encourage all of those who have the honor of leadership to be continually sensitive for any indication of depression on the part of your people. Sadly, most tenured executives are able to recount tragic situations where
recognition was late or nonexistent. There are certain realities that merit continuous reinforcement, including reminding others of the reality that suicide is a permanent solution to a temporarily problem.