Sometimes the sun is shining but my internal glow is dim.
Sometimes I’m smiling because I want to hide the pain. Not just from others, but from myself.
Sometimes I adopt codependent habits with people, food, even alcohol or drugs, just so I don’t have to experience what I feel on the day-to-day. I also experience moments of overactivity. Sometimes I overexert myself, locking in to tasks or hobbies or plans that serve as nothing more than a distraction. This overactivity turns into burnout REALLY QUICK. Responding in short to important texts, ignoring or cancelling plans, leaving the laundry undone in a pile on the bedroom floor because I simply cannot imagine a world in which I am any more productive. And the cycle continues.
I’m not a bad person. I’m mental.
Depression can look like a lot of things (Depression: What an Ass-Kicking), and so many people tell me to, “Get outside,” “Get a little treat” or even, “Just talk to your therapist” when I’m demonstrating cues of depression. While that is kind and meaningful to hear, unfortunately, that’s not the answer. For me, anyway.
What I wish people knew is that depressive episodes have to run their course. I can take my meds, go to therapy, go for a run, and eat as healthy as can be, and STILL depression runs through me like a river.
You see, there are distractions and band-aides for depression. I try my best to temporarily stall the inevitable spiral into the deep dark hole again (and again, and again). But sometimes it takes over and I have to pretend to be a functioning human being so nobody sees me this way.
It’s exhausting though. Masking. Putting on a face to trick my own mind into thinking I’m okay. I lose my sense of purpose and value when I find my self bopping around from distraction to distraction, task to task, only to end up back where I started. Hurt and alone.
*Intrusive thoughts incoming*
Depression often looks feels like you have no worth or purpose on this earth. What is the point in any of this if there is no end goal? Sometimes, it’s easy to lose track of our goals when depression packs its most powerful punch. What’s the point in even having goals anyway? We’re living in a fucked up world, with no end in sight, and what’s the point in even trying when everyone just seems to be out for themselves anyway…and for what? Survival? I’d rather die than Darwin my ass through this life (I told you, intrusive thoughts talking).
But there are people that remind me of my purpose, and I find myself whole again when I least expect it. They are the reminder that there are good people in this world. That there is something worth living for. When I tell you I am ALIVE when I spontaneously make dinner reservations with the right people, or lay on a bed with my girlfriends just cackling about who knows what (you know who you are). There are certain people who know me. Who hold me, even when they don’t know they are doing it, and even when I might not know I need it. My community, the people who love me unconditionally and are not trying to fix me, is actually what saves me.
So while the depressive episode is imminent, the key for me is to ride it out with supportive people around me. Letting them see what is going on and not trying to mask it actually makes it easier.
My brain has enough on its plate (here is a “sciency” version of what the brain goes through during depression Harvard Health: Depression). Do I really need to exhaust my brain even more by trying to hide it? Absolutely not.
Mental. But Not Alone has given me a space to, not only share how I am feeling, but to know that there are so many others out there going through the same thing. If you have any thoughts on what you wish people knew about depression, please share them in the comments. And if you know someone who is battling depression and all you can do is show them they are not alone, share this with them. I hope only one person sees this story and knows they have someone they can talk to.
Read personal stories about depression from other people in the Mental. community here: https://mentalbutnotalone.com/personal-stories-depression/