Golf and Twitter may have helped to save my life.

Social media, and specifically Twitter, has been one of the great revolutionary developments of the first decade of the 21st century. Bringing the world together in one platform, with people connected through their interests and opinions, making the planet feel deceptively smaller than it is.

Almost five years ago now, I took the plunge and opened my first Twitter account. I wasn't sure quite what to expect, but found that it was a useful tool to keep track of my interests. I was merely an observer during this period, but in early 2011 I decided to become a more active user, focusing specifically on my most treasured interest, golf, and regularly presented my views and knowledge to a fledgling audience.

Soon, that audience increased to include a whole variety of interesting people, who I happily discovered loved the game just as much as me. The humorous and insightful interactions enhanced the whole experience of playing and watching the game, and brightened up many a dark and damp night in Scotland.

Over time, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that people were interested in what I thought about the game, so I began to write about it. Some of my early efforts were extremely flawed, but I improved over time having sought the advice of professional golf journalists.

Two years ago, the writing would become somewhat more formal, when I was offered the opportunity to write for a number of different websites. I did for a time, before joining the newly launched eDraft.Com in October 2012 on a full-time basis. That gave me the platform to cover the professional game on a regular basis, with the opportunity to broadcast on online radio another thrill.  (Other media opportunities would also be offered - both accepted and declined).

With all of these things coming together, it should have been a really exciting and joyous period for me. However, it wasn't.

A dark cloud began to descend over me in the spring of last year. For a time I tried to ignore it, and progress along as normally as possible. However, it all came to a head on the 16th of June. I know the date, as it was the Sunday of the U.S. Open - when Justin Rose claimed his first major title.

Earlier that day, I was out playing at my home club, King James VI in Perth. As I approached the 12th green, I suddenly broke down in tears for no discernible reason. I hastily departed from the course, and lay in my bed for the rest of the day, emerging only towards the end of the final round at Merion. I publicly blamed my absence from Twitter that day on a "headache".

The overwhelming blanket of depression (that has infrequently afflicted me since my teenage years) covered me all throughout the summer, and into the autumn, with my output on Twitter (and on eDraft) becoming ever more sporadic. There was even a period when suicide was considered, and I had it all planned out - before deciding that my scheduled method of killing myself was a little too much of a cliche. You've got to try and be original, right?

However, despite all of the treatments and counselling, it was Twitter that contributed hugely to getting me through it. People (complete strangers in the all too-bewildering 'real life') regularly asked how I was doing. Of course, they had no idea what was actually wrong with me. (I frequently said that I was feeling "under the weather", which was in a way true, but it is a mysterious epithet).

I was touched by people taking the time to wish me well and encouraging me on my golf related endeavors, and it gave me a purpose to fight on. I've long-pondered about putting this into substantive words, but I felt it was important to hopefully let you (the merry band on Twitter) know just how grateful I am for firstly your acquaintance, but also for unknowingly helping me through some of my darkest days.

Whether Golf and Twitter actually helped to save my life or not is difficult to say definitively, but it certainly feels like it.

Thank you,

Kieran.