Nov 24, 2016 By Joe Salzone 4 min read

You don’t really know me.

Sure, you may have heard me on 590 WMBS. Or you may have read my previous columns in this space in the Herald- Standard. And you may have developed strong feelings about me — good and bad. Maybe you think I’m fearless or supremely confident or a jerk or an egomaniac.

You would be wrong on all counts.

The truth is, I’m someone who is tense, nervous, anxious, and depressed all the time. All hours of the day. Every single minute. Grocery shopping, taking a shower, driving, reading, all of it – the basic activities of life – I’m tense, nervous, anxious, and depressed. It can be exhausting.

For most of my thirty-two years, that’s how I’ve been. One side of my family is riddled with anxiety. The other side is steeped in depression. I was doomed from day one. The first 11 years of my life were mostly serene; nothing stands out as particularly terrible in my head, or in conversations with my parents and other family members.

In 1995, that changed. In the span of three months, between October and December, I lost both of my paternal grandparents. Grandpa Joe’s death in early October was not a terrible shock: he had been sick with cancer. He was my first role model in life, and his death certainly left a void. It was Grandma Mary’s death that hit me hardest. After she passed away, I carried around a lot of anger, a lot of despair, a lot of despondency for nearly two decades. Borne out of that time was a depression I did not recognize until years later.

You know that sinking feeling that something terrible is going to happen? Deep in the pit of your stomach? That’s how I felt for years.

When I finally realized there was a problem, I sought help. Saw a therapist, who became one of the kindest people I’ve ever known. In our first meeting, I said allowed three words that had haunted my darkest thoughts: “I am depressed.” It was the first time I had ever verbally said what I had long felt. And it was the first time in years I felt a burden lifted off my shoulders.

At this point, you may be wondering why I am writing about this in such a public way. You may wonder why I, an admitted introvert, is putting himself out there. I’ve done it before, on the radio. I’ve written about it on social media. My family and my dearest and closest friends all know about this. So, why write about it for people who do not know me?

Because it’s important.

Because I’m not alone.

Because every single person reading this has, at some point in their lives, realized no one can deal with these feelings alone. Admitting you need help is not a sign of weakness. Indeed, it is recognition that not only are you strong, but you’re ready to begin the long road to feeling better.

The journey for me is ongoing. I continue having good days and bad days. I continue trying to move past feelings of supreme dread and anxiety. The best thing I’ve learned is to slow down and let go. I was always trying to control things in my life, but that’s a fruitless endeavor. No one can control everything. Once you accept that, most other things are much easier by comparison.

In closing, if any of what I’ve written seems familiar to your own thoughts, or the thoughts of your loved ones, get help. It will be the greatest decision of your life. Talk to someone. Talk to everyone. Your family and your friends will not waiver in their love for you. It won’t be easy. Nothing that is truly important and worth any moment of your time or your energy is easy. There will be days where you will want to give up and quit. You will have days where all you want to do is stay in bed and hide from a world that seems to be closing in on you and gripping you by the throat.

That will pass. Because as bad as those days are, it’s nowhere as wonderful and majestic as those days where you feel all right. I wouldn’t trade any of those days for anything in the world. Those are the days that put the bad ones in perspective.

And sometimes, perspective is the most precious thing we have. Don’t forget that.

Joe Salzone is a talk show host at WMBS. He can be reached at joe@wmbs590.com.