Depression in My Own Words
I’ve never been diagnosed with depression or anything similar. Until now, I’ve only ever talked to one or two people about it. Not even my family is aware of it. My hope is that this post will help me in the long run, no matter how hard it is for me to write it now.
I don’t hate the world. I think the world is a vast, beautiful, and wondrous place I would love to see more of. I don’t hate my life, either. In fact, I have nearly everything I’ve ever wanted: life in the city, education from a top private university, job I can enjoy, some really amazing friends, and someone who loves me as much as I love him.
What I hate is myself, and I feel like everyone else should, too. There is reason for this, stemming from my childhood and much of grade school. Perhaps personality type, genetics, or some sort of chemical imbalance in my brain add to it. I don’t know exactly when and where this depression came from, but I am determined to be rid of it.
Depression is a shadow. It darkens my heart and everything residing there. Joyful activities lose their allure, and I question if those I care about reciprocate that care. I see myself as useless; a waste of time, space, and breath. I constantly fear failure, ridicule, and rejection and see each of them in every interaction I have.
Depression is self-perpetuating. It starts with a trigger that affects my emotions. I start to feel badly, and then think badly. I think ill of myself and it reflects in my actions and interactions with others. Things don’t go well, and it makes me feel worse. Emotions, thoughts, and actions forming an endless cycle.
Depression feasts on the lonely. It’s hard for me to create my own sunshine when I feel so undeserving of it. It’s not that I can’t, but that I don’t think I’m worth the effort. Without someone waiting to greet me with a smile once I emerge from the shadow, I see little reason to bother.
Depression destroys perspective. I forget the reason I have the life I do: because I worked hard for it. Because I gave it to myself. Because I AM worth it, because I CAN do anything I put my mind to. Because I am human, and making mistakes isn’t the end of the world.
I work very hard at this, but I am only human. I slip up and spend a few hours drowning in depression. I say and do things based off that depression, and push away those that mean the most to me. I panic at being alone, without someone to talk and listen to. The more I care about a person, the more of an effect they have.
I know your patience is a lot to ask for, and I know you’ve given so much to me already, but don’t give up on me. I haven’t, and I won’t. Whether you help me or not, I WILL get through this. Because I am better than this.