Depression

I suffer from depression.


http://www.upworthy.com/this-kid-thinks-we-could-save-so-many-lives-if-only-it-was-okay-to-say-4-words

I strongly encourage you to watch the above video, because what I write here is both inspired by and sub-par to this speech.

For the last five years of my life, maybe longer (my mom would argue for the last nine), I've been sick. And this isn't a visible sickness that I can easily medicate, nor is it something that I'm comfortable talking about or admitting I have. Because sicknesses have a cure. That, or they have sympathy. If I were to tell everyone tomorrow that I have cancer, I would get incredible sympathy and support from 100% of the people in my life, of that I have no doubt. But if I were to tell everyone tomorrow that I have depression, some would support me, but many would be confused, and conflicted, and uncomfortable because they're unsure of what I mean when I say it.

Whenever I openly talk about my struggles, I get a slough of positive feedback from others saying that I'm strong, and that they look up to me, and that I inspire them. But I never share my story to be an inspiration, and every articulation of my struggles is less of a motivational speech and more of a plea for help. I want to be understood, and I want others to see beyond the stigmatized lens through which depression is viewed. I don't want to be treated any differently because of what I suffer from. And you may be thinking to yourself that I have a very clear identification of my problem, and you'd be correct. What's more, I know that I should be seeking help and accepting this aspect of my personality. But I'm not, which is sad. It's sad to me because I think of all the people that have told me that I inspire them, and I know deep down that saying that I have a problem and believing it are two completely independent things. I don't want to admit to myself that I have this problem, because I don't want to view myself as a broken person. What's more, I don't want others to view me as a broken person either. I don't want my teachers, friends, potential employers, and peers to know that I suffer from a sickness that is not yet embraced and understood by society. I don't want my medical history to include antidepressants, because I don't want the information shared with those that have access to my medical records. I don't want my depression to be included in a list of facts that others know about me before they know me. I don't want others to think that I'm mentally unfit to hold certain jobs or positions simply because I have depression. And I know that by hiding it, I'm making it worse.

By hiding it, I'm not getting the help that I need to become a more balanced and stable person. By hiding it, I'm not combating the stigma that surrounds it. By hiding it, I'm contributing to the stigma.

I would like to say that my depression is not something that embarrasses me, but I would again be lying. There is obviously something about my depression that I feel is shameful, unfit for society to know. In all aspects of my life, I'm an open book. All aspects that is, except this one. I only share this side of me to those that I'm close with situationally, but not necessarily personally. Of my close friends, I can count on one hand the ones that know I suffer from this. Neither of my roommates know, nor do 12 of my best 14 friends at school. This means that instead of seeking help in my times of need, I retract myself from my life and I hide from those who could help me most.

I try to justify my feelings of depression in every way possible. It's hard, because there are days, weeks, and months that I'm completely fine, and I don't feel this way at all. But there are also days, weeks, and months that I feel so consumed by my sickness and my attempts to hide it that I start cracking at the seams. I blame my feelings on stress, on my lack of a good diet, my changing exercise patterns, the hormones in my birth control, my workload, my body image issues (which aren't even something I really struggle with anymore), the fact I'm so far away from home, and every other conceivable excuse. But the truth is, regardless of how my life looks on paper, there's no telling what my mental and emotional state is.

Depression is not sadness. Being sad when things aren't going okay is a completely natural thing. I know that there's a difference between when I'm feeling sad and when I'm feeling depressed. Depression is being miserable even when things are going fantastically in your life. About five months ago, everything was going right for me on paper. I was close to finishing my year out at school, and although I was stressed with classes, I had just been on spring break and so was refreshed. I had been to see my close friends the weekend before, and my mother, sister, and friend from high school were all up to see me this particular weekend. I had just closed a show, where acting is one of my favorite things to do. My friends were present and supportive. My birthday was the following morning. My sorority life was going well, I wasn't dealing with any rough friendships, and I should have been content, happy even.

But I was miserable. And "sadness" does not explain why, two hours before my nineteenth birthday, I was sobbing in the shower, so people wouldn't see me cry, with a razor to my wrist, looking for something to numb the pain. "Sadness" doesn't justify my desire to physically hide from everyone close to me, as I knew they would find me at midnight to wish me a happy birthday. "Sadness" doesn't quite explain why I almost asked my floormate to hide my bottle of Advil from me because I didn't trust myself with it that evening. Because I don't suffer from "sadness", I suffer from depression. Which is so much scarier, and so much more misunderstood.

I don't want to scare those around me, because I don't want them to worry. And as sad as it is, dealing with depression alone scares me a lot less than trying to explain my irrational feelings to those around me. Because for the last 5-9 years, I've been coping with it alone. It has become routine, normal for me to deal with mild to moderate amounts of depression to the extent that I barely notice it anymore. And aside from a few concrete instances of severe flares, I don't even tend to consider myself depressed because I don't know what it is to be normal. Depression is my normal.

And despite the stigma, despite whatever preconceived notions you have, and despite my refusal to admit to my problem, I'm incredibly secure with who I am. I know that I'm an incredible person who is empathetic to a fault, who works hard in school, who knows what she wants in her personal and professional life, and who is incredibly motivated and driven to achieve goals. I consider it awesome that I joined a boxing gym this summer, that I rock climb and mountain climb, and that I'm a certified SCUBA diver. I don't dwell on failed personal relationships because I know objectively that I don't need other people in order to feel secure in myself. And I know that my leadership and passion and drive inspire those around me.

You may be thinking I'm going to finish with a "but". There is no "but". I'm an incredible person and I suffer from depression. It's part of me, regardless of whether or not I choose to include it in my idea of self or not. It is as much a part of me as my talents, my desires, my dreams, my insecurities, and my flaws. It is part of what makes me who I am. It has taught me a lot about adversity and about the value of talking about subjects that are societally "taboo". It has taught me that I am my own worst enemy, and that I can use this knowledge to my advantage. It has made me more secure in myself. It has made me stronger, bolder, wiser, and has made me a fighter. It has also made me a survivor. Every day I win against my depression is a day of wisdom I gain about the battle I fight, and is another day that I'm strong enough to say that I'm winning. Being here today means that I've beat two suicidal periods in my life. It means I'm empowering myself to speak about my struggles. And it means that I'm continuing to live an incredibly full and fulfilling life, which happens to include depression.