David was born in Wrexham, north Wales, and adopted when he was a few months old. His adoptive mother Jean and husband Mo had adopted two other children. He has asked his birth mother via letters and social media why she gave him up, and she has told him she wanted him to go into a stable family with brothers and sisters.

His adoptive dad, who was of Indian heritage, did not want to adopt a third child, but his adoptive mother, who was Welsh, put forward an interesting scenario.

"He sort of put it out there like it was never going to happen, 'If we can find a baby with a bit of Indian in him and he is Welsh, then sure, we can adopt'," David said.

Within a month, "they got a call to say I was in stock and they adopted me".

So David, who was born to a Welsh mother and a father of Indian heritage, ended up with an adoptive Welsh mum and an adoptive dad of Indian heritage.

Despite love in his new family, David said being adopted probably contributed to some of his mental health issues.

"It's no secret that adoptive children suffer from identity issues and things like that and my parents were always supportive of seeking help from psychologists when the time came and, obviously the time did come," he said.

Every day is a challenge.

"Every morning while I’m at work my phone goes off with a text message from my wife. Usually it’s around 7am, and three words pop up on the screen: are you okay?," he said.

"It may seem simple enough, but it’s taken us five years to get to this point. It’s now routine. If I’m not doing too well, I’ve promised to always tell her.

"For a long time I was far from OK. In fact, I hated myself.''

About 10 years ago, David's inner turmoil revealed itself as an eating disorder.

"I thought by losing a whole bunch of weight I’d like myself. Nope," he said. "Dropping down to 65 kilograms didn’t work, so I turned to alcohol to numb the pain. It was easy to disguise. I mean, I was at university and everyone around me was drinking."

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A beer, or two, before class calmed his nerves. Then it became every day.

"For some reason I’d convinced myself that not only did I hate myself, but even complete strangers had cottoned on, and were passing judgement on everything I did.

"From the way I walked, to how I stood on the street waiting for the bus, I was certain the world hated me, nearly as much as I loathed myself.

"Before too long, I realised the best way to protect myself was by not leaving the house at all. I’d be able to fake it for three or four hours a day, smiling and joking, but for the most part I’d just sit inside, curtains drawn, crying for hours. I hoped the internal pain would go away. A friend saw the signs, and convinced me to see someone."

Six years ago, he hit rock bottom, after years of failed attempts on anti-depressants

"I decided there was a solution: I’d have one last night with my friends and quietly disappear. I downed an entire bottle of cheap scotch and went for a walk," he said.

"I don’t remember much from that night but I’m forever grateful that incredibly important people in my life saw the signs and called for help. Without them I wouldn’t be here today."

David suffered another setback this year with his father's sudden death from a stroke in February, just two weeks before his wedding in Canberra to political staffer Alexandra Craig.

"I'd been off medications for a little while, I've gone back on because I started to feel that loss. I'm very close to women and I don't have a lot of male friends, for some reason, and I've realised my father was probably the only male friend that I had."

Alexandra and David are a strong couple, but when they started dating, David told her the anti-depressants were heart medication.

But he says even in his darkest moments, "she can see the light".

"It takes a really strong person to live with someone with depression and I'm glad she stuck around."

R U OK? Day is a reminder to start a conversation with someone who appears out of sorts and encourage them to open up.

"Mental heath needs to be talked about. We need more of a focus on an illness which claims close to 3000 of our friends, brothers, sisters, fathers and mothers ever year," David said.

"An estimated three million Australians are living in pain and many are afraid, or embarrassed, to talk about what they’re going through.

"I’m here to tell you that you need not be. Depression is like being trapped in a dark room but please believe me when I tell you that eventually light will always find its way in."

• If you need help, call Lifeline on 13 11 14, ruok.org.au