Personify Your Depression: If my depression were a person... [fill in the blank]
Personify Your Depression: I learned about this coping technique today. Imagine that your depression is a person separate from you. The idea is that personifying our depression helps remind us that depression doesn't define who we are ourselves, and that invasive self-critical thoughts we experience often come from our depression and not our healthy minds. Some things to think about are: what kind of person would it be, what kind of hobbies would it have, what would it look like, what would its name be?
So, if your depression were a person, what kind of person would it be?
If my depression was a person, she would be a tall, looming figure with a creepy grin and long, tickly nails. She would be constantly nagging me, poking me gently. Sometimes, she'll go unnoticed. Other times, she'll make me break down, no matter where i am.
She would be the lonely girl in the corner that nobody talks to. She is painfully awkward and doesnt know how to just be herself. She has no confidence and is too embarrassed to look people in the eyes.
She would come hitting me when everythings going great.
If my depression was a person. She'd be a faded version of me, like a shadow that is constantly attached to me and follows me more persistently the greater the light and happiness there is in my life. Her face is always blank, expressionless, and her eyes filled with an empty sadness. Her movements are lethargic and always steady. Though she seems hollow, she exerts power, especially when a person tries to approach. Her countenance turns cold, her posture taller, her head tilts upward, and her eyes narrow judgmentally towards anyone who dares stand in her presence. And then the moment they leave, her shoulders droop and her face wilts and tears fall unbidden from her eyes. At night she wallows over what ifs and very outlandish and unrealistic futures. Shes a very lonely shadow who often feels just part of the background and wants more, but is very unwilling and unaccepting to any changes.
If my depression were a person, they would never have any defined shape at all. They certainly wouldn't look like me, given that I put no stock into my own thoughts or feelings; if my depression looked like me, I wouldn't be depressed in the first place.
It looks like the people I love. The people I value. The people who I think have feelings, thoughts and opinions that matter. What person it takes on depends on what is happening at the time. And it doesn't just have to limit itself to one person at a time, either. It can be everybody, all at once, a dozen faces it knows I would pay attention to; would listen to.
If my depression were me, I could ignore it, because I'm very good at ignoring myself and how I feel or what I think. I'm good at telling myself I don't matter. If my depression were some stranger, I could walk away from it, because a stranger means little to me and I've grown up with so many bullies in my life that one extra bully means nothing. But my depression is not me. My depression is the face and the voice of the people whose input I believe to be true. It is not rough, it is not violent. It is the whispers in the early hours of the morning when I can't get back to sleep and my mind is heavy with thoughts. It's the smooth-talking voice that sounds like it might be made of silk that convinces me I'm hated, and deserve to be hated at that, while wearing the faces of people it knows I would never question.
A grey tatured cloak 3 times my size. Stangling me, enveloping, suffocating but he's afraid of blood so if u bleed he loosens for a bit. Thats why the cutting works. He hates people seeing him so he keeps you at home isllolated. When u do go out he lets your face smile and show but as soon as they turn he forces himself down your throught. Every year he tightens he will kill me so very slowly.
He would be a handsome, cool guy seemingly nice to talk to and getting involved in deep, meaningful discussions. He would appear to understand me. However, all that would be a smoke-and-mirrors facade and when I find out whats behind the facade, the negativity comes out! His gaze, once warm and understanding, becomes cold like a reptile - sleazy, beady eyes with a sleazy, greasy grin to match ... as my concerns, once understood and empathized with, are now taken for granted as dismissed! Somehow, Ive become a disappointment! Its become my fault!
The guy in front of my becomes a menacing demon scorpion!
That, folks, personifies my anxiety and depression. Facing down the demons becomes real!
If my depression was a person they'd look like how I present myself. Disheveled. Sloppy. Not well put together. Tired. That sorta vibe. They wouldnt have a set face, theyd be more like a shadow, a solid shadow of what im supposed to be except its only filled with darkness. Horrible thoughts, feelings, and emotions that swirl like a vortex inside it. A vile person filled with so much negativity you can almost see the grotesque innards pouring out of their mouth.
They'd be a master of disguise. Hiding in the shadows mostly unnoticed, all while pulling the strings and manipulating everyone that passes by them. They'd be a horrible person. Kinda like how I feel sometimes.
if my depression was a person i would be always chained to it, always holding me back from the things i really wanna do
depression is forever my partner in crime in the confines of my mind.
