I’m going to reveal something I’ve never shared publicly before.

This New Year’s Eve, it will be seven years since I didn’t jump off a parking garage. 

For more than seven years of my life, I was treated for clinical depression and anxiety.  I saw a therapist and a psychiatrist on the regular.  I took various antidepressants and antianxiety medications.  Remarkably, my treatments worked very well at helping to improve my mental health and coaching me to better cope with my emotions. In September 2018, my psychiatrist agreed to completely ween me off of my meds.  I am now two years free of medication, and I cannot remember the last time I had suicidal thoughts.

But on December 31, 2013, those thoughts consumed my mind.

My girlfriend of 2.5 years – and, being a late-blooming dater, the first I ever had – broke up with me that night by text message.  It’s more complicated than that, as these things are, but let’s leave it there.  Needless to say, the culmination of a series of stressors were already colliding with my depression, and the sudden and shocking end of my first relationship was enough for me to snap.  In that moment, my depression conquered me, and I became solely focused on the end.

I hopped in my car and drove all the way from South Denver straight to a random, downtown parking garage.  I was planning to jump off, but I didn’t.  Something – or perhaps my guardian angel – kept me from following through.  Sitting in my car parked in the garage, I called my parents.  My dad and my brother drove to me and arrived with the police.  I was taken to Denver Health by police car and placed in an overnight mental health hold.

While I had no idea this would end up being one of the best things to happen to me – it set a new course for my treatment – it was the most intense and miserable night of my life.

Despite the passage of seven years, that fateful night still haunts me to this day.  Most years, it still makes the holidays very painful.  After a hell of a 2020 personally, I’m certainly feeling some of those emotions, but thankfully I was able to get the treatment I needed. I’m coping very well and I’m not in the perpetual doldrums anymore. 

Unfortunately, there are countless unspoken Coloradans who find themselves deep in depression and anguish at the holidays.  They may have lost loved ones, had a heart-wrenching divorce or breakup, left or suddenly found themselves in an abusive relationship, lost the small business they poured their everything into or any other tragedy you can think of.  Even more, these Coloradans may have clinical depression or an undiagnosed mental illness. 

On top of it all, they are now being pressed to stay at home again with social activity severely restricted.  They are told they ought not visit family for Thanksgiving, Christmas or New Year’s.  They can’t go out to see their friends – in fact, guests in your household are essentially illegal – or even work amongst other people at the local coffee shop that gets them out among other people.

These Coloradans may be turning to alcohol, opioids, meth or abusing any number of substances.  Some may be abusing their significant other or their child.  Or, denied the chance to enjoy life or see their family or friends at the holidays, they may feel at the breaking point and thinking of ending it all.

I’ve been there.  It hurts like hell.  It is hell.  And rational thinking can be almost impossible.

Gov. Polis, last week I explained why a cost-benefit analysis of another shutdown is essential. Now, I beg you personally, sir: Please consider the consequences of this soul-crushing lockdown-lite at the holidays, especially the long-term mental health repercussions.  A special session to send us checks isn’t enough to boost a person’s sense of belonging.

When your life seems like it’s crashing down all around you, and you feel there’s nothing for you at a difficult time, the unimaginable can happen.

The other day, you said about visiting family and socializing, “I get it, it makes life worth living.”

But it’s so much more than that.  As human beings, we all need companionship.  We shouldn’t be alone or imprisoned in our homes during the holidays.

Yet for many Coloradans, Governor, you are forcing them to be alone at the worst of times and denying even the choice.

Is your narrow policy really worth it?  Please, if you think so, explain why.  Or stop this in its tracks.

Finally, for those who have hit the mental rough patch: Know that there is another side.  I’ve reached it.  You can and will get through this.  We all will – together.