Living with the Black Dog

My name is Kalix Alberti, and I am a team leader in a private company. I'm sharing my story in the hope that it will encourage others who are struggling to reach out and say, "Hey, I'm not feeling too good."

Starting in year 8 and throughout high school, I often felt down or nervous without any clear reason. I was well-liked, never bullied, and most people probably saw me as a confident guy. But that confidence hid some terrible feelings that I experienced regularly.

I missed a lot of school, especially in years 11 and 12. I avoided activities I was good at because I feared making mistakes or looking foolish. I was a talented guitarist in primary school, but I gave it up in year 8. I was a decent soccer player, but I lost my confidence and felt intimidated by others with bigger personalities.

I often used injuries as an excuse to cover up my anxiety and lack of confidence, especially in sports. I only attended a few school carnivals because the anxiety leading up to them was too overwhelming.

After finishing year 12, things seemed to improve. I enjoyed the holidays and was excited to start a commerce degree at University. But three weeks before University of started, on June 27, 2010, a date my family will never forget, my life changed.

That morning, I woke up to find my dad asleep on the couch. He had been struggling with severe insomnia for about a year. We chatted briefly before he left the house. He promised he'd be with me that evening at the university. That was the last time I spoke to him. He took his life later that day. We knew he was suffering from some form of depression, but we didn't realize how severe it was.

My dad was an exceptional human being. I love him, miss him, and think about him every day. For years, I didn't fully come to terms with his death. I bottled up my feelings and didn't grieve properly.

My mind finally broke down last year during a trip with friends. I had to tell my mates what I was going through, and they supported me, helping me enjoy the rest of the holiday as much as possible.

Things didn't get better when I got home. I had dark thoughts and constant anxiety. My heart raced, and I felt like I was living in a constant state of adrenaline. This made me analyze every symptom, turning my mind into a prison.

Living with these feelings was extremely hard, but suicide was never an option for me. I knew that taking my life would only cause more pain for those I loved. I started seeing a psychologist and was diagnosed with depression and anxiety. Talking openly was the first major step in my recovery. I opened up to my family and friends and accepted my feelings instead of fighting them.

In September last year, I decided to stop fighting my anxiety and depression. I let myself feel whatever I was feeling without overanalyzing. Gradually, I started having better days, then better weeks, and eventually better months. I now feel in control of my anxiety and this "black dog" on a long lead.

Mental illness does not discriminate. It can affect anyone, no matter how successful or intelligent they are. . Beyond my tired eyes and smile, there was someone struggling—but that’s okay.