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Hello, my name is Greg. I work for a company called Table XI in Chicago, where we have a 30-person Rails shop. I've been programming for most of my life, starting on a TRS-80 when I was about six or seven years old. I had cassette tapes with BASIC on them, and I remember this magazine, 3-2-1 Contact, that came every month with BASIC programs in the back page. I would literally copy the programs into my computer and run them, just to make the screen change colors.
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Most of my professional career has been a blend of development and client-facing work. However, I also have Type 2 Bipolar disorder and ADHD—not to be confused with Matz's anniversary-driven development from yesterday! Today, I want to share my story with you and explain the importance of discussing depression and mental illness in our offices, with our peers at meetups, and at conferences like this one.
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You might be familiar with Type 1 Bipolar disorder, often called manic depression, which involves cycling between periods of mania and depression. The mania can feel euphoric but can also lead to impulsive and destructive behavior. Type 1 can also involve rapid cycling, where one can quickly switch between highs and lows. In contrast, my Type 2 Bipolar disorder is milder, with longer cycles that typically last anywhere from four to twelve weeks.
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For me, it often felt like I was trying to crawl up a gravel incline that was really steep. No matter how hard I spun my wheels, I kept slipping back down. I first noticed this during the last year of my studies at the University of Illinois, when I was just about to fail out of school after breaking up with my girlfriend and moving into a place on my own for the first time without roommates.
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I was not a particularly good student, but I was smart enough to get by for the most part. This changed during my junior and senior years. I realized the consequences of not focusing on my studies; for instance, without understanding linear algebra, I had taken that class twice, and yet still couldn't tell you what it means. It became increasingly clear that I was not going to graduate, and I struggled to figure out how to tell my parents.
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At that time, a friend remarked, 'Greg is one of the smartest guys I know, but he also happens to be one of the laziest.' I accepted that label because I felt compelled to attribute my lack of performance to laziness, even though I knew deep down that I was capable of doing the work. I was just sleeping all day, not attending class, and neglecting responsibilities.
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At my lowest, I found that sleeping was the most obvious symptom of my depression. The best moments of my day were when I was unconscious and didn't have to confront reality, which seemed to pile up like a mountain. I slept through my alarms, skipped class, and even stopped showing up for my job. I had a flexible part-time job, but eventually, it took them some time to notice that I had essentially stopped going in.
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I had a co-worker named Bill who genuinely cared about me. He sent a couple of emails checking in, but I ignored them because I didn't know how to talk to him about what I was going through. One day, around 2 p.m. on a Tuesday, I ignored his phone calls too. Then I heard him knock on my door and thought, 'He's being ridiculous—what does he expect?' I even tried to hide from him by sliding into the small gap between my bed and the wall.
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Eventually, he walked into my apartment and made his way around but didn't find me. It was an embodiment of the shame I felt from failing—you know you've hit rock bottom when your friends are worried, and you can't show them who you really are. Wracked with shame, I moved back home to Indianapolis to live with my parents and began doing freelance work.
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After about six months, it was clear I mentally and physically couldn’t handle school, so I lied to my parents and told them I graduated. It was four years ago that I came clean about this to them. I was so frustrated because I often wanted to go to class and do my work; however, I could scarcely focus.
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Despite wanting to, the procrastination overwhelmed me. It wasn't until 2:00 a.m. before something was due that I could finally get some work done, but it felt like I was completely out of control. I stumbled across a Bible verse that resonated with me: 'I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do, I do not do; but what I hate, I do.' I felt like this every day, struggling to complete even the simplest of tasks.
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In desperation, I googled chronic procrastination, which led me to information about Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD). Although I had jokingly acknowledged symptoms of ADD, I had never taken them seriously, thinking of them only as excuses for laziness. While reading Tom Hartmann's book, 'The Edison Gene,' I learned that ADD is often genetic and seen in many inventors and creators.
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Hartmann discussed how our ancestors needed to be good hunters, constantly scanning their environment for threats. In contrast, farmers had to be methodical. It became evident how society had evolved toward valuing farming skills more, leading to a decline in the recognition or acceptance of traits associated with being a hunter.
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It is currently estimated that roughly 10 to 20% of the population could be diagnosed with ADD. Hartmann noted that the symptoms of ADD, like indecisiveness and lack of focus, tend to manifest through periods of high pressure. Interestingly, linear thinkers—those without ADD—experience similar symptoms during the same stressful conditions.
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This realization was encouraging; it fueled a shift in how I perceived my own challenges. Society seems to have created environments that overlook those with tendencies toward nonlinear thinking—this especially rings true for developers, who often thrive under intense pressure.
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It took me a whole year after discovering Hartmann's work before I felt compelled to seek therapy. At least, I tried hard to convince myself that I could do it alone. Once I did seek help, my therapist confirmed that I showed significant symptoms of ADD and, surprisingly, also exhibited signs of Type 2 Bipolar disorder.
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While resistant to the Bipolar diagnosis at first—associating it with the idea of being 'crazy'—I eventually had to confront the reality that my emotional state was affecting others around me. For two years, I resisted getting treatment for the Bipolar disorder, convinced that it would rob me of my creativity.
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After years of avoidance, I finally realized I needed help. I set an appointment with a psychiatrist, who prescribed medication that would help stabilize my moods. The positives came quickly, allowing me to focus and handle daily tasks more effectively. But as the fog began to clear, I was faced with the weight of my lingering depression.
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The medication allowed me to concentrate on how depressed I felt, which was distressing. I struggled for many years to recognize that the source of my unhappiness came from within rather than external factors like my living or working situations.
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When I was in college, I was quick to blame my surroundings. When I moved to Indianapolis, I found things unchanged and ultimately moved again to Chicago. Initially, I loved my job with a small startup in Chicago. But after some time there, fatigue crept in, and I began to feel dissatisfied once more. I thought briefly that maybe I was just burned out.
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I tried apartment showing jobs, where I found success for a few months but eventually fell into a similar rut. It was then that I met Josh Golden, CEO of Table XI, who saw potential in me and remembered to check in when I was struggling depersonalized.
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After texting him that I was available for hire, I joined Table XI and began a fulfilling chapter of my life. I remember vividly my first day—having exactly one dollar and seventy cents to my name, no hot water, and concerns about what lunch would look like.
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On my first day, Josh treated us to lunch, displaying generosity that made me feel welcomed. The small startup atmosphere enabled me to work on interesting projects and thrive. However, as months progressed, I started to falter again, missing work and failing to meet deadlines as I had before.
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It all culminated on a fateful Friday when, while preparing for a big deadline, I could not focus and ultimately failed to show up on time. Josh came by to check on me just before he left to propose to his girlfriend. At that point, I had to confront my issues, which led me to schedule an appointment with a psychiatrist.
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The realization that pride kept me from seeking help hit hard. For him, I saw that prevalent issue in the industry—suffering in silence instead of reaching out for help. Once I finally sought therapy, I was diagnosed with Type 2 Bipolar disorder and started medication that worked well.
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It's important to note that many of those suffering from Bipolar disorder and related mental illnesses aren’t as fortunate. The computer science community has lost many brilliant minds to suicide due to untreated conditions. Each year, the statistics on mental illness are staggering, especially for people within our field.
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For example, 5% of the general population suffers from Bipolar disorder, with a significant percentage of individuals facing suicide due to untreated symptoms. In our line of work as developers, where these traits of anxiety, focus, and grandiosity are often idealized, we need to look out for one another.
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After losing a colleague to untreated mental health issues, I became more vigilant about encouraging those in my community to seek help. The stigma surrounding mental illness fosters a culture of silence, leading to despair for those wrestling with their issues. Mental illness deserves the same level of discussion and support as physical ailments—whether it's cancer or diabetes.
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It's crucial that we provide a safe space to discuss these issues openly and work towards letting those around us know that it’s okay to speak up. Seeking help is not a sign of weakness, but a strength, and should be normalized. We can’t afford to lose more brilliant minds in our industry, and that starts with all of us.
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Thank you very much for listening to my story. Remember, if you’re struggling or if things feel unmanageable, you’re not alone. Reach out to your friends, and talk about what you are going through. You might be surprised at the support you receive. As I stand here today, I’m a living testament that things can get better.
