Depression, you little b*tch.
Y’all. It’s been rough.
You know that feeling where you can’t rest because something is tugging on the back of your mind? Mental tabs that won’t stop flashing, their ‘pick me’ aura shining brightly through the mental fog? Or the tightness in your chest? The one that won’t let go no matter how calm you try to make yourself, no matter how strongly you consciously recognize that everything will work out. How about the crippling tidal wave of my least favorite phrase. The one that feels true no matter how many things you’ve accomplished, no matter how many people rely on you. You’re worthless.
In fact, I can feel it creeping up now as I write this.
The panic. The pain. The darkness.
Then, as if all the level 10 emotions that you’ve been experiencing aren’t enough, you tip over the edge. Free falling into a pit of darkness so deep you can no longer see the light, no longer want to see the light. Because the pain? It’s too much.
Which leads to the numbness. The absolute nothingness of it all.
Then, you begin again.
Recently, I heard someone telling a personal experience of a very brief, very low time in their life. He mentioned how he had never experienced such pain and fear before. I felt for him. Wow, I thought, I know what deep pain feels like, and I felt bad that he had to experience that. He then proceeded to tell the group how he had never believed in depression before. That he thought it was fake.
Now, I’m not exactly sure why I feel the need to share this with you. I do know that my jaw DROPPED. Literally. It blew my mind that there are people out there that think depression is made up. Fake. That they don’t experience the life sucking pain of it on a regular basis, as if life could exist without the constant ache.
I’ve experienced some form of mental illness since I was a young teenager. And you know what? It hurts. I’m so tired of feeling broken. Less than. Of wanting to hope for a future that I don’t feel strong enough to fight for.
So I cling to the things I do know.
-Medicine is my friend. There are so many people that believe being on medication is a sign of weakness, and honestly, I feel bad for them. I know what having a mental illness is like, and I know what having an unmedicated mental illness is like. It’s miserable. A downward spiral of panic, shame, and fear. You’re not in control. So, if you need medication, here is your permission to take care of yourself. To love yourself. Get the meds.
-Your loved ones love you. Surprise. Even when the pain is consuming you. Even when you have to lay in bed because getting up is too much. Even when you get irritated. You are loved. You are valued. You are needed.
-It’s okay to feel the pain. I used to push the pain deeper into myself, thinking if I ignored it, it wouldn’t be true. It wouldn’t be able to touch me. I was so wrong. We are gifted the opportunity to feel. So let yourself feel.
-If someone tells you you are too much, or you ‘wear your heart on your sleeve’ get them the fk out. In high school I let someone treat me like this for too long, and I believe it continues to subconsciously affect me to this day. He liked the idea of me-he didn’t actually like me. Get rid of them. They have no place in your life.
I’d like to believe this will positively impact someone. That they will read it and feel even the slightest bit seen. If that is you, I love you. If it’s not you, I still love you. And possibly, I just needed somewhere to put my thoughts, for my own healing's sake. And that is absolutely enough.
xo,
Aubrey