I would just like to let y’all know that I am taking a huge
risk by talking about this. I’m making myself very vulnerable in hopes that
what I have to say could make a difference and I would hope that you’d proceed
free of judgement. If you can’t do that then don’t waste your time.
So.
Depression.
I’ll just come out and say it and not dance around the
subject like it’s something to be ashamed of (or like it’s even a surprise
anymore).
I have Major Depressive Disorder.
Now I know what you might be thinking… Why would I disclose
this kind of information with pretty much everyone? Isn’t that kind of
personal? Ummm, yeah. It is. Regardless of whether you’ve known me my whole
life or if you’ve just met me, I would hope that this information wouldn’t make
you uncomfortable or scare you away. I’ve been playing with the idea of putting
my two cents in on the matter for some time now, and I didn’t know if I would
ever come out and admit the reality of my condition, but I can’t really keep my
mouth shut about the subject anymore. I’m not saying we should introduce
ourselves to others by telling them our problems, but I feel the need to talk
about my depression because I see a lot of insensitivity towards those who may
harm themselves or even take their own life.
I have four things that I would like to identify as my main
purposes. 1) I want to share my story so that you may better understand what it
feels like to be depressed. 2) I want you to understand what I’m doing to
overcome it. 3) I want to explain the true reality that depression is, as
opposed to what you may have thought about it. And 4) I would hope that you
would take this information and apply it to your lives.
Keep in mind that there are different kinds of depression, everyone
deals with depression differently, and I really can only speak for myself.
So. Here we go.
PART 1: MY STORY
I’ve been dealing with depression since high school. Did I
know it was depression? No, because it wasn’t as serious. It all started as a
lack of motivation, spending weekends in bed all day, and being consumed by
self-contempt. I felt like the only thing I was doing was disappointing
everyone around me. Multiple times I had been asked by loved ones if I was
depressed; I honestly didn’t know. The only thing I knew about depression was
that you often needed medication, because all I saw was the commercials. So of
course, I didn’t think I had depression. I got past the very dark days, pushed
on through, and turned out just fine. I did what is expected of people, to buckle
down and deal with your problems head on.
But it just kept coming back. A couple times a year, I’d go
through the same routine and quite frankly, it was exhausting.
But during the fall semester of my second year of college, I
noticed something was extremely off, even more so than usual. The one thing
that came easiest to me (school) was now my most difficult challenge. I
couldn’t concentrate in class, focus on my homework, or sleep at night. Eating was optional. Social
situations were the biggest struggle, and yet, I wanted to be a part of them so
bad. Rooms full of laughter made my hair stand on end, and my whole body felt like
it was being scratched from the inside.
The first counselor I met with wondered if it was ADHD since
I was so restless, but that just didn’t make sense to me. I didn’t know of any
family members that had dealt with ADHD before, and I never had problems with
restlessness when I was younger. I had a daily 7:45 class that I had been sleeping
through for multiple days, and one morning, after sleeping through it for the
millionth time, it hit me like a million ton of bricks. I woke up uttering the
words, “I have depression.” By that time, I had almost stopped going to class
altogether. It was then that I finally went to a doctor. But just because I
started medication didn’t mean that I was all of a sudden healed. I was trying
to convince myself that the pain was all in my head but it wasn’t. I think
that’s one thing that people forget. Even though it’s totally unreasonable that
we feel this way, it doesn’t mean that the pain is completely fake. The sorrow
is so real it’s physical.
I wish I could have everyone experience depression for a day
and then maybe you’d understand what I’m saying. Some of you do, I’m sure, but
I’m sure there are a lot of you who don’t. I’m sure people have tried to
explain, but let me have a go at it.
It’s kind of like hell.
Now I’ve never experienced hell, but here’s my theory: The
closest thing we have to heaven on earth is the temple. So what’s the closest
thing we have to hell on earth? I don’t think it’s a place. I see it as a
state; it’s isolation. Isolation from your loved ones, from the things you used
to enjoy, and from the person you would like to be. All you can see is the
goodness around you but you have no part in it. Everyone is progressing and
happy with their lives, and you’re just stuck in a cage, forced to witness it
all.
It’s kind of like that.
(Deep breaths. Here we go.)
Hopefully, in sharing my experience you can get a glimpse of
what it’s like to be in a depressed mind. I’m going to warn you, it isn’t
pretty (and that’s a GROSS understatement), so be prepared.
The best way I can describe depression is by likening it to
a friend.
I wake up in the morning to the same daily song of contempt
and self-hatred. She’s there, whispering in my ear all my deepest insecurities,
reminding me of my incompetence. While I’m in class, she takes complete control
of my body; rubbing my arm, piercing my legs from the inside. All the while,
she’s still in my head, singing sweet reminders such as, “You are worthless.
You are pathetic. You are ugly.” By the end of the day, she’s surpassed the
point of whispers and has reached a sound level comparable to that of a howler
monkey. I try by way of positive thinking to put an end to her squealing, but
am unsuccessful. All I hear is, “You put this on yourself. You want me here;
you brought me here. The only reason you’re miserable is because you are lazy,
unintelligent, and over-rated. And face it, you like talking to me.” She is
right. She is the only one I have to talk to.
But the irony is that you are, in a sense, your “friend.”
You are the one telling yourself these things, and yet, you feel so
disconnected from yourself that it feels like it’s everyone else that’s telling
you this.
In my darkest state, my uselessness was just as much a
reality as the fact that the sun will come up in the morning. There will always
be seven days in a week, fall will be followed by the desolate winter, and time
will continue to pass. Those are concrete realities. There’s no escape from it,
just like there’s no escape from the clutches of my own mind. My thoughts were
my reality. My mind was the choreographer and I was the dancer.
The only way I could bear to get through the day was by
writing down my brutally honest feelings and thoughts. So let me share with you
some excerpts from by far my most painful journal entry.
“I stop telling people things because they just want me
fixed. Guess what? I want me fixed too. More than you do, in fact. I too get
sick of hearing my own problems. I get sick of it more than you do, I guarantee
you.”
“The second someone says ‘do you want my advice?’ I shut
down. No, I don’t want your advice because I know. I already know what your
advice is. I already know how I should be
able to fix my misery. I’m not trying to be miserable for kicks and giggles.”
“I don’t want to be alone, and yet I’ve doomed myself to a
life of solitary misery.”
“Just stop being emotional!”
“Most people want to be around other people that are happy
and can make them happy. I feel like
I can’t do either of those things so what in the freaking world am I good for?”
“I want to just love myself and feel confident, but nothing
has proven to me that I have a right to be so.”
“I don’t want to feel sorrow for obvious reasons. But I
don’t want to feel happy, because no one cares. I don’t have anyone to share it
with.”
“I don’t deserve the love that I so deeply long for.”
“The only real look of love that I ever see is from a dog.”
“I am sick of feeling.”
“Every single feeling that I ever feel is locked inside my
mind and stuck on repeat. And that, my
friend, whoever you are and wherever you
are, is why I want to die.”
“I want to die so bad that it physically hurts my body.”
This was basically the theme of my 15 journal entries
similar to this one. I was completely out of control. And this is where
depression gets dangerous. I don’t thing I can even begin to explain the kind
of emotional trauma it takes to want to find relief through physical pain. Just
imagine that you have the kitchen knife in your quivering hand as the deafening screams
engulf your mind. You hesitate, thinking about how disappointed your loved ones
would be if they saw the evidence of your self-mutilation, but the burden of
any potential guilt that may come with this decision is much lighter than the
burden of pain it might inflict. You feel so numb and cold for so long that
pain is simply a reminder that you are still alive; blood still runs through
your veins.
So next time you make a joke about slitting your wrists, DON’T.
So here I am. There are more details to the story as to what
happened next, but I’ll save it for later. I’ve been trying to tackle this
situation for a year and a half, and while the worst of it is behind me, every day
is a struggle. I’ve basically failed two semesters and deferred from another,
and it feels like I’m getting left behind. It’s about time that I get through
this and continue on with my life like I did before. But that’s the thing; it’s
not going to be the same as it was before. I have to learn how to function and
succeed in a whole new way, and it’s just a matter of figuring it out.
Well now.
Wasn’t that pleasant?
I didn’t share that so you could pity me and reassure me
that I am loved, because I know I am. I shared it so you could maybe understand
and become more sensitive. If it didn’t work then I don’t know what to tell
you.
I want to reassure you that this is no longer my reality.
Well now that I’ve sent you on an emotional roller coaster,
I want to switch my focus.
PART 2: WHAT I DID ABOUT IT
We are in charge of our lives and have to take
responsibility for our actions. But we can’t control what acts on us, whether
it be death of a loved one, an accident, or an illness. What we have control
over, ALWAYS, is how we respond to these inevitable events in our lives. So I
couldn’t just make it stop, because it was acting on me. With mental illness,
there are a lot of things that are out of our control. But this is one thing we
CAN control:
Whether or not we get help.
At first, I denied it. I didn’t want to believe that I was
depressed. Again, it seemed like an excuse, because even I took it as “giving
up.” But on that fateful day, as I was sleeping through class for the umpteenth
time, I awoke with the grand realization that this was my reality. I hated my
situation. I even hated myself. I had no control over my mood, motivation, or
anxiety. I felt like I had no control over anything.
BUT
I still took as much control over my situation as was
possible. I saw a doctor, I went to a counselor, and even though every day was
essentially a bad day, I did what I could to help my situation. I am by no
means extraordinary, but since I’m sharing one of the most personal aspects of
my life with basically the whole world, I’m going to do what I can to help
people understand.
If someone you know is at the point where they don’t have
the motivation to get help, don’t judge and pester them. Lovingly encourage
them to seek help, and offer support in any way possible. Just sitting with
them could make all the difference, and try not to leave them alone. Again, if
they’re at that point, it could be dangerous.
But here’s the point I’m trying to get at…
Depression does not define who I am.
I do.
I personally don’t like it when people say “I am depressed.”
To me, it sounds like “I am depression.” But you’re not.
We are the ones in control of our own character. I define
who I am by responding to my situation in a certain way, and by letting it
affect my character in a positive way. Just because I can’t get out of bed,
doesn’t mean that I am lazy. Anyone who really knows me knows that that’s not
true. And if you think I’m “dealing with it” by staying in bed and feeling
sorry for myself, then I think you’ve missed the point. Just because we go
through things that can literally tear us apart, doesn’t mean that we are
pathetic creatures that can’t handle a simple blow to the head. Life happens,
which includes things that are out of our control.
Ether 12:27 in the Book of Mormon says, “And if men come
unto me I will show unto them their weakness. I give unto men weakness that
they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble
themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith
in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them.”
We are imperfect beings, both physically and spiritually. It
is when we realize that we cannot endure without Heavenly Father’s help that we
may become stronger in both aspects. We can’t endure any deep struggle on our own. But through the utilization of the
atonement, we may turn that weakness into strength. Elder Jeffery R. Holland
said in his talk Like a Broken Vessel (and
I’m paraphrasing), sometimes asking for help means asking for professional help. Regardless, it takes
a little humility to realize that we are not invincible. He also said in his
talk, “we are infinitely more than our limitations or afflictions.”
Amen.
PART 3: THE REAL REALITY
I know everyone goes through struggles, but to quote something
I found on Pinterest, “saying someone can’t feel sad because someone else has
it worse is like saying someone can’t be happy because someone else has it
better.”
We all experience difficulties, but I think our downfall
comes when we compare our trials to the trials of others. We all have a certain
capacity for enduring difficult times, but they’re all different. I may have to
endure the same emotional strain that you do, and yet our experiences are
totally different. So the reality is we’re all probably experiencing the same
amount of pain, just in different ways. You can’t compare them unless you’ve
experienced both in your own life.
One thing I’d also like to point out is that we know we’re
being unreasonable when we experience anxiety (I mention this because it often
goes hand in hand with depression). We know it looks pathetic, and that there
is no reason why we shouldn’t be able to help ourselves. Anxiety makes
absolutely no sense whatsoever, but that doesn’t mean it’s irrelevant. We can’t
just “calm down,” because in our mind, there is always something wrong. For me
personally, it’s like constant claustrophobia. All we can focus on is the fact
that we can’t escape the situation
when we used to be able to.
So let me explain something.
Depression is not necessarily
a manifestation of deep, unresolved personal problems. I did not have
“problems” before the condition really exhibited itself. I was perfectly
“normal.” (At least as normal as a person can be)
“So what do you have to be sad about?”
Depression is not
simply about being sad. If anything, it’s more about our insecurities and
self-doubt. We aren’t “enough.” We aren’t good enough, happy enough, confident
enough, smart enough, or strong enough. Everyone deals with insecurities, which
can seem like “personal problems,” but they’re not. They’re simply (and
unfortunately) just a part of what it means to be human. So why doesn’t
everyone have depression?
For a lot of people (myself included), depression is just a
chemical imbalance. The way my doctor explained it was that I didn’t have
enough serotonin in my brain to allow myself to “move on” from my insecurities
and doubts. They literally took over my mind, and inhibited my ability to
function properly.
It is not a frame of
mind, an attitude, or a lifestyle.
One thing I’d want people to know is that depression
disguises itself as a frame of mind because that’s what it attacks; your frame
of mind.
I was writing a paper for an English class about my
experience with depression, and my teacher asked me, “What do you really want
people to know about depression?”
What do I want people to know about depression?
Depression is more
enabling than it is disabling. I know it’s considered a mental disability,
but that doesn’t mean that it has to be disabling.
Yeah I’ve gone through some real crap the past year and a
half. I’ve failed multiple classes, multiple times, and quite frankly, I’m sick
of failing. If you were to look at me right now, it may seem like I’m failing
at life in general. It sure feels like it some days, quite honestly. But I’m
not failing in the eyes of my Heavenly Father. To quote myself from a previous
blog post, “the bitterness that life will bring broadens our capacity for
feeling.” Because I’ve been through the darkest days a person can have, I’ve
noticed a greater passion for basically everything in my life. I didn’t think
it was possible to feel as strongly about trees as I do. But that’s my life
now. I love trees. A lot.
So if you were to judge someone because of their depression
or the way they were dealing with it, just realize that they are growing in
strength, rather than failing in strength. And if you have to deal with it,
just remember that you’re becoming more awesome as a person. And that’s
awesome.
PART 4: WHAT YOU SHOULD DO ABOUT IT
Why are we so embarrassed to talk about depression and
anxiety? In my opinion, I think it’s because a lot of people see it as an
excuse. It’s an excuse for being lazy. It’s an excuse for being unsocial. All
we’re doing is wallowing in self-pity. But all that does is attack my
character. I haven’t been personally attacked by anyone, but the reason I don’t
tell anyone of my condition is because I feel like anyone I talk to is going to
judge my character. Being ignorant of the situation is only hurting everyone.
Those of us that have to deal with it only feel more alone because of the
social stigma of mental illness; it’s awkward and uncomfortable. No one knows
how to deal with it because no one openly talks about it. So that’s what I’m
trying to change. I’m trying to start the discussion.
Here is what I would want people to DO about depression. I would hope that people could avoid
judgment. I’m not choosing to “give in” to the temptation. Positive
thinking isn’t always going to fix the problem. The problem is that I can’t
control the insecurities that enter my mind; it won’t allow me to move on. I
know that’s a hard concept to grasp because I was once in your shoes.
If you are dealing
with depression, or simply stuck in a rut that you can’t seem to get out of,
I would encourage you to realize that there
is hope for you. Having hope doesn’t mean that everything is better, or
that things are even going to all of a sudden get better. Hope is when you
promise the Lord that you won’t give up on Him because He WON’T give up on you.
In my opinion, having hope does nothing to diminish the reality of your pain,
but having an understanding of hope will allow you to exercise your emotional
endurance. Pain is nothing to be ashamed of; it’s perfectly human. If we didn’t
know pain, we wouldn’t know joy. So don’t be ashamed if you’re struggling and
need outside help.
I think the saying “there’s a light at the end of the
tunnel” is funny. The tunnel is still there! It’s still a reality. But the
light is only going to get brighter if you continue to endure through the
tunnel; but you have to keep moving. Don’t think about the length of the tunnel
because it will only overwhelm you. Only concern yourself with what is required
of you to take the next step. One of the things that must be utilized is the
atonement of Jesus Christ. You don’t have to get through anything alone when you have the Lord on your side.
I know what it feels like to feel out of control. But I’ve
said it before and I’ll say it again, the one thing you CAN control is whether
or not you try to get through it and ask for help, no matter who it’s from.
Know that I’m rooting for you, no matter who you are! I guarantee you that if
you overcome this, you will have a strength that you never thought was
possible.
I love you guys, every last one of you. One thing that this
depression has enabled me to do is love someone regardless of their opinions or
situation. We all deserve to be loved, no matter who we are or what we do. And
it is through feeling that love that has made all of this suffering worth it.
If I had to go through all of it again, I would.
Ultimately, the thing
I would like you to do is BOMBARD each other with love. In my case, the
thing that literally got me through
everything was the support that I received from my family and friends; it saved
my life. Also, the second to last thing I want you to do is forget that I have
depression, if that’s at all possible. I don’t want to be known as “the girl
that has depression,” just like (I’m sure) someone with diabetes wouldn’t want
to be known as “the person with diabetes.” Again, I am much more than my
weakness. I am my strength. I’m happy, you guys. I really am.
The VERY last thing
(I promise, it really is the last thing) I want you to do is defend, and be an
advocate for, those that suffer from mental illness. They need people
rooting for them, just like people root for a cure for cancer.
I’ve shared this poem before, but I think it’s worth sharing
again, because it applies to everyone.
Invictus
By William Ernest Henley
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit
from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my
unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not
winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is
bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the
Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall
find me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with
punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain
of my soul.
So, if you have any questions or something is still unclear,
let me know. Otherwise, let’s spread the word and join the conversation.
Ready.
Set.
GO!
