Returning into the Light: How depression stole my love for life

For most of my 20s, I’ve grappled with the relentless presence of the black dog of depression, a constant shadow that’s tinted my world through a grey lens.

So many things in my life gave me joy, from playing cricket with my mates on a sunny Saturday afternoon to walking through the city of Sydney next to the glistening shimmer of Sydney Harbour. Those days seem like they existed in an old classic noir film, a reel of memories fading away under the weight of a grey lens. It’s as if the once-vibrant scenes have been packed away in an old box, gradually meeting their demise through infestations of termites and rats, each joyous moment losing its brilliance in the encroaching monochrome.

For the better part of a decade, each morning greeted me with the oppressive weight of the universe on my chest. The very act of rising from bed felt like a Herculean task, with every fibre of my being urging me to succumb to the safety of its confines. The reassuring voice in my head whispered that this cocoon was the haven where judgment couldn’t reach, where I wouldn’t be deemed unworthy or face the scrutiny of others. In the sanctuary of my bedroom, I could linger, shielded from the world’s expectations.

If, by some sheer force, I managed to escape the gravitational pull of my bed and complete the mundane ritual of brushing my teeth, the next formidable hurdle awaited — convincing myself that life held purpose and that I had the strength to engage in activities I once excelled at.

Over the years I’ve been asked by many what depression feels like exactly.

It’s as if a darker and sombre version of yourself becomes an unwelcome companion, a leech that clings tenaciously, daily whispering reminders of your flaws and negative traits. Depression not only skillfully magnifies one’s perceived flaws, but it also wields a formidable strength that relentlessly tells you how weak you are.

On July 23rd 2023, I reached a pivotal moment in my life and I came face to face with depression’s best friend: Suicide.

Up until that point, I did everything I could to keep the thought of giving up at bay. Whenever I felt like I was just about to crack, I would muster every bit of mental strength and resilience I had to shut it out. For 10 years I was able to keep on, keeping on, until this day.

Depression had won the battle.

I had no more in the tank, and I accepted that my time on this Earth was up. I knew what I was giving up, but I was content with what I had already achieved. It wasn’t a long life, but I’ve had a good 25 years filled with many happy memories and achievements.

I was ready to begin writing my suicide note.

I prepped the page and wrote down a list of people I wanted to thank for being part of my life. This included:

• My students and colleagues

• My best friend and his family

• My parents

• My girlfriend and her family

Each letter started with a recalling of a happy memory I shared with each person. From the pranks my best friend and I played on each other in high school, to my first date with my girlfriend, to the day that I opened my first music school for my students. The interesting thing was, I felt a sense of relief and every time I recalled another moment, I found myself smiling instead of crying.

What started as a suicide note, became a love letter to the people who mattered the most to me in my life.

Subconsciously, I began writing about memories and moments that hadn’t yet happened. I was no longer fixated on what I was going to miss but on what I looked forward to in the future.

• To my best friend, I wrote that I couldn’t wait to see him get married to his girlfriend.

• To my students, I wrote that I couldn’t wait to see them grow up and perform on stage one day.

• To my parents, I wrote that I couldn’t wait to make enough money to buy them a new home one day.

Every time I tried to fight depression, it got stronger, to the point I lost all meaning in life and had no reason to live.

Like a high school bully who continues to make your life a living hell, the moment I accepted defeat, I removed the source of depression’s powers. The grey lenses were removed, and for the first time since I was 17, I saw the colour and tranquillity my life was filled with.

My reasons to live

Today, depression continues to crawl its way back into my life.

Since July 23rd 2023, there have been moments where hopelessness threatened to overwhelm me. Instead of entering another battle with depression, I let it confront me, and in those moments, I recount every reason I have to live.

I have about 1000 reasons, but these are my top 10:

1. Perfecting my latte art each morning.

2. Challenging my 5km run record.

3. Exploring new dishes from my Chinese and Vietnamese heritage.

4. Dreaming of travelling to countries I’ve yet to visit, including Singapore, Malaysia, India, Spain, and Italy.

5. Imagine the thrill of waddling with a penguin in Antarctica.

6. Anticipating the adrenaline rush of shark diving with Great Whites.

7. Rediscovering the magic of the entire Harry Potter series.

8. Fulfilling the dream of driving a Ferrari at full speed.

9. Experiencing the live atmosphere of a Wimbledon tennis match.

10. Watching an Ashes test match at Lord’s in England.

These reasons, though seemingly small, make life exciting for me.

Yet, my ultimate motivation is rooted in the profound connections with my closest friends and family.

Whilst depression can take away my interests in sports, food and travel, it will never take away the one thing that continues to give me strength, courage and resilience when I need it the most.

To my friends, family and beloved girlfriend: You are my strength, and my reason to live. I love you all.