depression sucks

When I was very young, I used to refer to it as my “chocolate bon-bon” feeling. I just had no other words. Just every once in a while, I would feel like I wanted to curl up somewhere by myself eating chocolate bon-bons. I’m really not even sure I had ever had a chocolate bon-bon. It just sounded comforting and I craved that feeling of comfort.  

I remember lying awake being afraid the house would flood or burn down. Not exactly peaceful nights growing up.

I would have been described as shy and quiet. I was not a peppy and energetic kid. I was often self-conscious and embarrassed. I wasn’t necessarily unpopular, but I was never going to be the life of the party.

I had an eating disorder by the time I was 12 and that helped me to isolate. I guess that would have been the only “sign” that anything was off. I made good grades, participated in sports, was editor of the yearbook, was voted most artistic, and I didn’t drink or do drugs.  

I had the opportunity to go to Germany as an exchange student and I declined. The fear over what I would eat and not knowing anyone terrified me. Everything terrified me.

I remember sitting in the parking lot one day at school playing King of Pain by the Police and just feeling almost haunted by this overwhelming sadness. There was no reason in particular. I didn’t want for anything. I had a whole future ahead of me. And I was miserable.

When it was time to go to college, I did not want to go at all. I did not want to stay home either. I could not think of a single place in the world I wanted to be. I was paralyzed with fear and sadness.

I found alcohol in college and it was my first “anti-depressant.” It worked wonders. It was the first time I felt really good and liked myself. I loved alcohol. Of course, it doesn’t make a good long-term solution even though I sure tried to make it one. When I had to give it up, it didn’t really work well anymore anyway. Without it though, I did see how terribly depressed I really was.

Depression sucks ass. It is a miserable condition and sometimes the thought that it will always be a part of my life is completely overwhelming and makes me feel hopeless. I’ve heard all sorts of bullshit in my life about how I’m just being a victim or it’s just self-pity or I really just want to feel depressed so people will take care of me. Or that depression is anger turned inwards and I’m really just angry, but don’t want to deal with it. Or if I just turned my thoughts to others then I would stop thinking about myself and I wouldn’t be depressed. Or I need to change my perspective. Or I need to be grateful for what I have and think about all of the other people in the world who don’t have it as good as me. Or I need to find a hobby or some meaning in my life and then I’ll be fine. Or I must not really be depressed because I can get out of bed in the morning and work at a job and I look presentable. And I’m not really depressed because I can be happy some days and “real” depressed people are never happy.

And all I can say to all of those people is that they are lucky they do not understand what it is like.

Depression feels like never, ever having a good night’s sleep. Never feeling rested or having any energy. It feels like your body is being pulled downward. It feels like crying when you see your dog because you can’t figure out why, at that moment, with all of the love you have for her, you feel complete emptiness inside. It feels like wanting to go to bed all the time. It feels like there is no point to anything that you do in your life. It feels like not looking forward to anything no matter how much fun other people would agree it is. It feels like dreading every day that you wake up and looking forward to going to bed. It feels like not thinking of anyplace in the entire world you would want to be. It feels like not wanting to do anything at all, ever.

And there are ways to “handle” depression. There is medication I take and I see a therapist and I exercise and try to eat well and I get out of bed every day and put one foot in front of the other and keep going no matter what. Connecting with people and talking is helpful. And yes, it does help some days just to get moving and turn my thoughts elsewhere. And sometimes there are good feelings and I get to see that life is positive and good and I know that it’s worth all of the work to fight this horrible illness. Actually, without the bad days, I wouldn’t know what a blessing the good days actually are. I’m probably one of the “lucky ones” in that I can actually get out of bed in the mornings. I know there is a whole level of depression I can’t even possibly understand because it is so dark.

And I don’t say any of this so people will feel sorry for me. Please do not pity me. I know in my heart I have a life worth living. People have cancer and diabetes and broken limbs and autoimmune illnesses. We all have to deal with shit sometimes. Just know that if you have depression, you don’t have to feel embarrassed or ashamed. You have someone who understands what it is like and you are not alone. And I hope you keep hanging on and fighting the good fight. You deserve it.