I have depression

I do, and it’s horrible.

The purpose of this little post isn’t to go off on one about how horrid and awful my life is, because believe me I do that enough offline; instead I’d like to write a bit about my depression, because I think it’s something that’s different for everybody.

On the whole, I think I’m quite a smiley person, I mean I laugh a lot and generally don’t wallow around too much. The thing is, even when I’m laughing with my friends there’s a voice in my head telling me that they don’t really like me, or that I’m ugly, or that people are looking and judging me negatively. It’s a pretty self-centred mentality when I come to think of it, but it’s not something I can just stop because it’s just there, as much a part of me as a hand or a foot or something; noticeable, because there’s no way of removing it, and inconsequential, up to a point, because I can’t remember it not being there.

Generally speaking, therefore, that little niggle of depression is just an annoying, underlying little buzz that knocks the confidence but isn’t crippling in its presence. Generally speaking, I said. Because there come those days when it is crippling, to the point where I physically can’t get out of bed due to the sheer weight of my mentally emotional state.

Sometimes, on these days, I feel like everyone and everything is against me no matter what is said. It feels like I’m suffocating, and sometimes I genuinely can’t find enough breath, and so I lie there in a cloud of nastiness with that little buzz in my head suddenly finding a megaphone and yelling out all those things that before were just whispers.

When this happens I’m really not the nicest person to be around. My only excuse is that I can’t shut out the stuff in my head and so, if there are people around, I tell them those things; I attack the people closest to me because I don’t know how to turn off that voice in my head telling me that they don’t care, or don’t love me, or don’t like me. So my loathing of those things bursts out of me as if it’s me who doesn’t care about people, meaning that I turn from just being sad to being an uncontrollable monster. When I flip to that ghastly being there’s nothing I can do, and it’s as if I’m sitting there watching someone else screaming remorseless words and watching them find their mark. When that happens I want more than anything to stop, because I know how wrong it is and I can see the effect it has on other people, but I can’t. I don’t know how to.

That’s what my depression is like, a perpetual sense of unworth that could, at any moment, build up and up and burst free, like a monster lying dormant until it gets nudged awake, at which point it rears up and rips out of the frail cage it was imprisoned in.

I hate it.

Of course, there’s the ‘cute’ side of depression too, where you just sit there and cry a lot, perhaps buried under a quivering mountain of pillows and duvets and blankets, but beneath the layers of soft bedding there’s still that monster inside eating you alive with sadness, guilt, pain, loneliness.

Then there’s the depression that is shown through self-harm and/ or thoughts/ acts of suicide. That’s pretty grim too, and it’s often seen as the worst means of expression because wanting to hurt yourself and/ or die goes against nature, but when you’re in that place of self-loathing you’re not thinking about the different ways to show how awful you feel because all you care about is making that feeling go away for good, no matter the cost.

Those three expressions are the ones I’ve experienced. The first, the one involving screaming and hysterics, is the one that I find worst. The second, involving the uncontrollable crying, is the one I most often find myself experiencing. The third, involving self-harm and thoughts of suicide, is the one that I hope is in my past. They’ll never know it, but it’s mainly because of my little sister and best friend that I never followed through with the plans to end my life or permanently scar my body.

After that rather rambling explanation, I’ll end this particular post. I can’t say how often I’ll upload following ones, but I’ll endeavour to do it enough that this blog doesn’t wither away.

I hope that this has brought some understanding to what it means to have depression, and that it isn’t just a permanently flat state of bleh.