Beloved Irish American musician Seamus K admits battling crippling depression

One of irish America's best known entertainers discusses battle for his sanity

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Seamus K

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I share my story today because I believe depression, anxiety and other illnesses that come under the general heading of mental illness often have a stigma attached to them. As a result, thousands of people cover up their illness, suffer in silence, and never receive the treatment they desperately need for fear of shame, embarrassment, losing a job, and often the fear of losing their loved one.

The families of people with this type of illness also suffer while watching someone they care deeply about in distress and not knowing where to turn for help.

MY BATTLE with depression goes back to the early 1970s. I started playing music professionally at age 14. Within a year I gained popularity around Galway because of my flamboyant rock guitar playing and my stage theatrics. As a 15-year-old I was living the dream, opening up for major bands including the amazing Thin Lizzy.

By the summer of 1974, I was playing with a band called Rock & Roll Circus. The band performed all over Ireland and we were tipped to be the next big thing.

In the midst of the launch of the band, my mother passed away suddenly at age 54. She was a saintly lady and we were very close. Without doubt, she was my biggest fan.

I practiced guitar at least eight hours a day, only breaking for tea and brown bread with Mam as we called her.  We talked about everything during those tea breaks. It was the best part of my day.

Even before Mam passed away, I was having a hard time dealing with everyday life. I was sad most of the time and I found it difficult getting out of bed each day. I had withdrawn from my friends and family and felt lonely and lost.

Two months after Mam died it all came to a head. Rock & Roll Circus did a show in Wexford. I knew something was wrong as I had a hard time concentrating on the music.

After the show we went back to our hotel. I couldn’t fall asleep and got very agitated. It was a terrifying experience. I walked the deserted streets of Wexford for hours in an effort to calm down.

In the morning, I told the bandleader I was in bad shape. He immediately got me to a local doctor who sedated me and told the bandleader to get me back to Galway right away.

Our local doctor in Galway couldn’t figure out what was wrong. My dad recognized the seriousness of my situation and said that there were a few options.

I could go to the Regional hospital in Galway or I could go to St. Patrick’s psychiatric hospital in Dublin. He insisted it be my choice.

He always called me Jim when things got serious. He said, “Jim, I think you should consider St. Pat’s. There is something wrong with your nerves and this has been going on for a good while. St. Pat’s is the best with that kind of thing.”

I think I surprised Dad saying, “Dad, if I don’t get help right away, I don’t thing I’ll be around for much longer.” A day later, we got in the car and headed to St. Patrick’s.

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