Things no one told me about depression
Last two weeks were really tough for me. Recovery from my depression seems distant and unattainable, so I decided to put my feelings into words. This is my description of how it is to be depressed.
Depression is boring. Like really boring. Nothing ever happens in your life, your days blur and look painfully plain: you lay in bed, you stay inside, you sleep, sometimes you cry. It seems you are stuck in a time loop, day after day the same mundane surroundings, the same shallow activities. Your life became a never-ending series of daunting tasks you really have no desire to complete. You wait for something, but no one knows for what, including yourself. You just wait and quietly dare to hope that tomorrow you will feel better.
Time and space warp. You can't remember if you shower yesterday or three days ago. You forget why you entered the room. You don't feel hungry, but you can't recall if you ate dinner. Or breakfast, for that matter. Your private universe seems to shrink to the four walls of your room. Everything slows down, and even then you feel you can't catch up with the world.
It's not always being sad. Sometimes it's anger and being on the verge of tears, and sometimes it's overpowering numbness. It's restless and over-analyzing everything, and sometimes it's frightening paralysis. It's guilt, and anxiety, and self-loathing, and distress, and constant fatigue. You're a whirlwind of emotions and a hollow pit at the same time. You mislaid the hope for a better tomorrow.
Depression silences you. You don't have the energy to speak up, so you slowly lose your voice. You can't reach out, you think you must suffer in silence. In times of the greatest need, when the simple act of supporting you could make such a difference, you are unable to ask for attention. You can't give vent to the gravity of your pain. As much as society wants to believe in that, you can't turn your sadness into heartwarming art. You don't even have the energy to consider creating anything, because you think you are worthless. And such a pitiful creature is unable to give form to beauty.
Fighting with your own brain is tiring. Sleeping 12+ hours doesn't mean that you are well-rested. It also doesn't mean that you won't take naps during the day. And that after waking up from them, you still won't be exhausted. You feel weary, but you have no idea why – you certainly don't do anything significant.
You are not in control of your emotions. You feel awful and that's it, no way out of it, no way around it. It seems impossible to "cheer up", and hearing such statements only makes you feel guilty. Because you think you should have been able to express something else. To just switch your mood TV and turn on a different channel, that would be a dream scenario. Instead, you are constantly apologizing for existing and spoiling other people's moods.
Depression lies. It makes you feel worthless and guilty. You think that if you feel so hopeless and despaired, you must have done something to deserve it. And there's plenty of mistakes in your past. It locks you in your own mind and persuades it's for your own good. You believe it - why wouldn't you, it's your last friend. You can only think of yourself. You feel impure and beyond saving. It seems there's no hope.
Laying on the couch in your pyjamas is better than being dead. Crying for hours in the shower is better than being dead. Staring in the screen all day is better than being dead. It will always be better than being dead.
It's not alluring. It's beyond my comprehension why anyone would romanticize it (damn you, Bukowski!), but overwhelming sadness and self-loathing is not beautiful. It's gut-wrenching. Depression makes lovely people believe that they are hideous, and I hate it.
You have to celebrate little things because you are incapable of functioning like a normal human being. You brushed your teeth? Well done! Changed your sweaty clothes? That's great! Walked outside? What an achievement! You feel like a needy brat who asks for constant praises, and you hate yourself for it, and you feel stupid. And a bit grateful, because someone notices your struggle.
Antidepressants are not evil. They are not scary personality-altering drugs. They are not happy pills or a source of ‘artificial' happiness. Antidepressants are a type of medication designed to make you feel better when you are ill. They are just like any other medicine. They are not a sign of weakness. And taking them is your personal choice and no one else's business.
You can get attached to depression. It's your constant companion during the day, and it's your bedmate at night, so it's natural you form a relationship with it. Sometimes you've been so long depressed, you don't remember how it is to be free of its weight. You forget there's a sun, and birdsongs, and laughter. You've started to believe this void is your destined reality. You are scared of change, so you cling to it. Because as silly as that sounds, this depression is a safe house for you. You lived here so long that you know every corner of this dark cave. The vastness and freedom of free world overwhelm you. You prefer to stay here.
Recovery is freaking hard. It's long and complicated and sometimes seems pointless to keep insisting for. It's hardly a straightforward path – more like a bandy road, full of ups and downs, through the dark forest. In winter. Wearing slippers. It's basically never-ending series of playing tag with your brain. It doesn't happen over days or weeks. It's a gradual process, like with leaves falling down from autumn trees. One by one they dropped throughout the season and suddenly you realize there's none of them. The branches are bare. Then, on your good days, you will spend your precious well-being time on worrying how long it will last. And you will get knocked down. And you will say with satisfaction, I knew it!. And you will grit your teeth and stand up again. And you will get knocked down again. And again. And again. And again. And again. It won't get easier, but you will get up quicker every time because you remember to bring with yourself a rope to pull yourself up.
You want a manual about how to get your past life back, but you only have this stupid "I'm survivor" T-shirt. You feel stronger but cannot help to wonder when you will meet your foe again. This time, you will be better prepared for it. You can see the horizon.
I wish someone told me: "You have depression, but depression doesn't have you. It's an illness, not an identity. You are more than a medical term. You are more than a noun."
@Celaeno,
You are a very dear person, and I'm amazed at how you have summed up so much I have wanted to say about this illness.
I think above all though, I admire how you managed to turn this post into a message of hope. I cleaned up my room after reading this. =P
"You want a manual about how to get your past life back, but you only have this stupid Im survivor T-shirt... You can see the horizon."
This got to me the most, because I've only just started getting help, and I haven't even gotten professional help yet. But my parents have been talking about "going back to normal", and I'm just wondering if that's possible, if this is really something that will disappear once I've gotten medicine.
I don't know if it will honestly. It doesn't seem likely and the feeling is that it won't, that things might get better, I might have more of a handle on my life, but it won't ever fully go away. I'm not sure if that's just the depression talking or if it'll actually be true. XD
I want a past life back, one where the pain isn't prevalent and I have the will to do what is necessary. But it's also comforting, realizing that I do have a past life, that things weren't always this way and maybe they won't have to stay the same.
I want to see a horizon and feel the fog lift. I'm afraid that my hopes will be dashed and the darkness will redouble if that light is extinguished.
But maybe there is a horizon.
So thank you for sharing your experience and thoughts. I wish you the best in your recovery.
@TactileTwistT, thank you! You're so kind. I really appreciate that you took your time to read it.
I'm glad you found hope in my post. To be honest, I've started writing it feeling frustrated and isolated from human kind. But as time passed, I turned and turned every word, and it brought me some relief. I guess I was already a different person after finishing it. Maybe more hopeful?
What's a normal life, one could asks... (But that's rhetorics, I know what you ask about. I avoid the question, because I'm lost and don't have answers.).
Your perspective of the past is admirable. You're absolutely right, the sense of having one is comforting - a kind of counterweight to the current pain. I personally didn't restore my past life. But I don't mind, because from the distance I can see it was a life full of misery and self-deception. I was wretched, in terms of emotional recognition. No matter how much I struggle now, at least I know the name of my monster. And for that I'm grateful.
Hmm... Our universe is bittersweet. So I guess depression must bear the likeness. Isn't the world a strange place?
Thank you for your wishes, which I heartily return.You are strong and wise, so I know you overcome your hardships and get your past back. I wish you all the best and I hope I will see you around. Lots of love! ^^
@twist. I cleaned my room after reading these too. Lolol.
Small steps will keep us moving forward!! Hugs!
Another thing I've learned that no one ever told me was how angry Id feel sometimes. I go from sad to rage and then crash back to sad
@TheSadFox, oh, yes- the rollercoaster of emotions! And it's so energy-draining, this constant switching back and forth, back and forth, to finally crashing down into the numbness. And it's amazing how much we can feel and at the same time be disconnected with our emotions.
Sending you hugs! Stay strong and kind, my lovely ^^
You could gain 100 pound by trying to eat away the pain
I have. 😫
How easily it made you want to push everyone no matter how much they tried to be there for you
@Babyelephant, yep, exactly. Because you believe the sly persuasions of depression that you don't deserve any attention whatsoever. And you are afraid you will get hurt even more, and it will be just too much to take. You fear it will be the last drop, that you will crash into million pieces, never to be picked out again.
There's a wonderful TedTalk about it, which I recommend to watch for anyone, if they'd like to. Here's a quote from it:
"Loneliness creates a deep psychological wound, one that distorts our perceptions and scrambles our thinking. It makes us believe that those around us care much less than they actually do. It make us really afraid to reach out, because why set yourself up for rejection and heartache when your heart is already aching more than you can stand?"
Sending hugs!
About the "it's not alluring" thing - I don't mean to be argumentative, but I think that's sort of a matter of perspective. I kind of have problems with anxiety way more than depression, like a sort of mad dash to find a solution. So listening to someone who's depressed and wanting to be there for them is sort of what calms me down, only I don't think I'm very good at it.
You certainly aren't argumentative, @conscientiousTurtle7794, don't worry ^^
In this part which you mentioned, I mostly have in mind criticism of the whole romanticizing of depression. There is this idea in the Western culture that in order to be creative and to become the artist, you need to suffer emotionally. As if the art of creation is limited to the depth of our pain. I think it is just a social construct, and at the same time a dangerous perspective, because:
a) we push creative minds into perilous, unhealthy zone. We tell them that their suffering is completely natural - even more! - obligatory, if they want to become artists/creators. That they shouldn't seek out help, but just "channel sadness into hopeful energy";
b) we limit ourselves to only negative sources for our inspiration. We forget about affection, compassion, thrill, wonder, hope, curiosity - the whole palette of emotions. Life is not black&white, nor it is in shades of grey. It's blue and green, maroon and silver, in fierce yellows and mellow turquoises. It would be such a waste to leave it all behind.
Of course, I'm not referring here to the ways of coping with mental illnesses via various mediums, but to the general "depressed like Van Gogh" attitude.
I don't think your concern is problematic in any way. You are just a compassionate soul who want to understand others, and also to be understood. It's less of an allure, and more of empathy ^^ You're just kind.
Oh, and thank you so much for reading! I appreciated it.
Much love!
It seems like it's a catch-22. Channeling those negative emotions into art and literature is what brings in attention from all the people who wish that they could help and from those that feel similarly. But then it's still very private about what they'd actually need help with, because you wouldn't want to broadcast that to everybody.
Turtle, the fact that you know you want to be there for them makes you good at it! 😉. Just be there it's a good thing.
That people would romanticize it so much, or ignore you completely. That smiling is easier the day before than it is the next morning when you thought the happiness would stay a bit longer. That it would make you feel even worse than before and unable to do anything when someone else needs you when they are depressed too. All the questions you get on being 'tired' all the time or not focusing enough.
People who don't go through it, will never understand it. Be grateful that you don't understand.
@Celaeno
This was incredibly brilliant and true.
I can't quite describe how moved I am by your words or how much I could relate to every part of it. I never thought that what my feelings were could be said completely, like a part of the truth will always be buried or unable to said. But you said it all so eloquently. You described every part of the struggle in such a way that I vibrated through every fiber of my being and I cried.
I cried because of how true your words were. I cried for the fact that it can only be said by someone who's gone through it. Your words come from a place of experience and hurt and that resonates to me.
Thank you so much for saying this. Thank you so much for putting words into feelings and struggles that never felt like they could be described.
You are right. Depression is a companion that we can't just unfriend. It's a familiar aspect in our lives and therefore, it's comforting yet we hate it all the same.
How do you celebrate you? I can see all the wrong going on and so do everyone else. On the contrary, I always found it hard to praise myself when no one else dare take notice of the good things.
@bleubellejune, I'm so glad you've liked it! I hope your tears brought you relief, the same kind I'm experiencing right now reading your lovely words. I was in the dark for so long, thinking there is no way somehow would understand the pain. And there you are, darling, understanding every ounce of my suffering. We both struggle and it's so hard, but I'm so thankful for the day I found out this community, because together it is a bit more manageable. I'm so happy you're here with me. I saw few of you posts, and I already come to like you. You're loving, and kind, and your voice has depth in it.
Wonderful and intelligent, I'm so grateful you took your time to read my post. And you said such an amazing praise, it's hard for me to comprehend that your words are destined for me. It's hard to be gentle to yourself after years of self-abuse. But I will try to be kinder, because of you - you gave me hope, darling, that we can walk this darkness, and reach the end of the tunnel.
*hugs*