Let me join the chorus... I had a rough time too. Of course I was battling a problem that my OS didn't want to hear about, which certainly didn't help. Add in the fact that my beloved wife was apparently absent the day they handed out the "empathy" gene, and... Not a lot of support.
As usual, I can only speak for myself, but... I ended up in a pretty deep depression. Not because I had anything to be "sad" about, but because the changes in my brain chemistry caused by years of chronic pain, surgery, anasthesia, inadequate post-op analgesia, the stress of being canned from my job after 5 years because I scheduled my surgery, rushing into it with improper prep so I could get it done before I lost my benefits, not getting any support from family, having problems with the "new" knee and Doc ignoring my problem...
I guess I DID have something to be sad about, huh?
Still -- I'm "mr. boot-straps." I'm the guy who set his own leg on the side of the road after being hit by a car in 1984, with a broken collar bone, ribs, jaw and a dislocated shoulder. I'm the guy who walked in and handed the Doc his brace ~18 months after he told me I'd wear it for the rest of my life.
I'm the guy who stitched his own cuts and cauterized an aching tooth with a red-hot nail. I'm the guy who left the hospital on Friday and went to work on Monday after nearly losing my leg in a MC accident in 2002, even though my Docs said 6-12 months minimum before I could work again.
I'm the tough guy who got back on his bike a couple of days after the ex-fix was removed because I needed to "get back on the horse".
I'm the "man up/walk it off/suck it up/don't be a wuss/I can handle anything" poster-boy.
I can handle ANYTHING.
'Fraid not. I couldn't handle that. Mr. Depression kicked my @$$.
It wasn't easy to go to my Doc and admit that I needed help, that I'd gotten to the point I hadn't bathed in weeks, brushed my teeth, or done much of anything besides go to PT and sit at home chain-smoking and staring at the wall, almost catatonic -- that I often found myself crying for no apparent reason...
Admitting I couldn't handle my frigging FEELINGS, when nothing else had ever slowed me down? -- honestly, that may have been the hardest thing I ever did in my life.
I'm not bragging about being macho, not asking for pity, on the contrary I'm hoping that by admitting all this I may help someone else...
I took an anti-depressant for a bit, it seemed to help some but not nearly enough -- so we increased the dose. Now I'm closer to my "real" self, and thus was able to keep pushing until I found a solution to my knee problem as well.
It's not easy to admit that, but...
I wouldn't be ashamed to tell you all if I were diabetic, had a thyroid problem, or whatever... This is no different -- it's a chemical imbalance brought on by years of bulldozing through when I should have lay down and gotten better.
Doc said in some ways it's probably that my subconscious is now letting me have it all at once since I didn't allow it before.
Now that I'm able to deal with it -- since I'm stuck at home with no work, waiting for this knee to get better or the Docs to fix it, and getting some income from the private disability insurance I'd paid for years -- my body said "it's time... here it comes!"
Some post-op blues are normal. I wasn't blue, I was deeply, horribly depressed. If you're feeling down and it doesn't get better, I'd recommend talking to your Doctor about it.
While I still don't agree with our pill-happy society, I've had to eat some of my former words and will happily admit I was wrong.
Sometimes you CAN'T just "suck it up" and there's nothing wrong with that.
IMHO the only thing wrong is being too proud to admit you need some help, or refusing to get it when you need it and thus harming those who love you.
Let me know if I can help in any way...
DD