it’s hard to describe depression to other people. simply naming it isn’t effective. the term doesn’t encompass the scope and i’m not always sad. plus, each person’s life with depression is unique so even when i’m talking to a fellow sufferer, our ways of experiencing it can differ significantly. still, i’ve tried to describe it to them in a way that makes it real for the people in my life a great many times. for instance:
my depression is a vacuum. a vortex into which physical and emotional energy is drained, leaving me both empty and full of ugliness. a conundrum of sorts. it feels like forever; like it’s always been and always will be. i can’t see the end. hope and help are not allowed. depression destroys my will, and i want to give up the fight because the struggle seems overwhelming.
my depression is singular. it’s hearing only one note. tasting only one flavour. seeing only one colour. it overwhelms everything and turns the experience of life into monochrome rather than a palette of complexities and nuances.
my depression is waking up before the rest of the world after a fractured sleep. it’s opening my eyes and hoping that maybe, for once, the world will stop, so i won’t have to try to do all the things that are a necessary part of remaining alive but seem so impossibly hard and so incredibly pointless.
my depression feels like i’m being buried in heavy folds of suffocating fabric that stifle the air and weigh me down, contaminating my thoughts with the darkness. my depression drags on my bones so that remaining upright becomes a fierce act of will.
my depression is a liar that tries to convince me that i am, out of all the people that are and were, the most completely useless human that has existed, ever; that i’m a desperate failure unmatched in scale since time began. my depression tells me i’m weak and feeble, that i consume oxygen for no discernible or useful purpose, and that i’m an utter waste of time and resources.
my depression is living in a body that my mind is trying to kill, passively with negative thoughts and emotional attacks, and actively with thoughts of suicide and self-harm.
my depression is the absence of something i can’t identify but recognize as missing. it’s being here but not here. it’s a disconnect from this reality. the spark that drives the human spirit is gone. it is a flatness that runs from my core to the surface. it’s an absence that seems like it should be painful, but i’m too empty to tell.
my depression is dark. it’s a darkness i see but don’t see. it dims the world, making everything a little less bright, a little less warm, and a little less appealing. it is pointlessness and hopelessness.
photo credit: claralieu via boredpanda
december 30, 2017 – random thoughts about my depression