Living with Depression

I wanted to take a moment to talk about the difference between mental health and mental illness. There is a difference, and everyone usually focuses only on mental health. Even I am guilty of it and catch myself using the term mental health instead of mental illness. Mental Health is focusing on health and remembering to self care, practice gratitude and basically is something that everyone can relate to. It is something that we all fall prey to if ignored. Everyone has mental health, the way that everyone has physical health and just like working out regularly and taking vitamins, it needs to be taken care of.

Mental illness on the other hand is totally different. It’s not something that self care or practicing gratitude can fix. It is something that affects us regardless of how we are taking care of our mental health. It is an illness the same way you think of diabetes. Not life threatening, but if not taken seriously, it can be. It can be hereditary and run in your family or it can be caused by some kind of life circumstances. Either way, it is invisible and most people will go to great lengths to hide it. We should be talking about it and shouldn’t be afraid to talk about it. People talk about diabetes all the time. So, why is there such a stigma on mental illness?

This post was a lot harder for me to write than my anxiety post was. Truth is, my depression has been with me for so long that it felt too much a part of me to write down. Or at least put into words. What if I wasn’t able to describe it just the right way? What if I couldn’t get the words out. Or what if it was just too damn painful.

My depression is something I rarely talk about. It is my most guarded secret. Maybe that’s another reason I don’t talk about it. But, she’s there. All the time. Waiting in the dark and watching me. Watching everything I do. Hovering like a dark cloud. It’s like when you think it’s going to rain and the sky clouds over and gets dark. She is my dark cloud. The feeling that she’s coming and seeing the clouds and everything starts to get dark. Knowing the rain is coming. And no matter how hard you fight it, eventually you just give in. Because it is inevitable. You can stay indoors and try to avoid the rain, but eventually you have to go somewhere and get stuck in it. That’s how I have always thought about my depression. That it is unavoidable. When it comes, and starts raining it’s too late. No turning back. Just let me hide under a blanket of fake smiles and forced conversations and pretend everything is okay. Because if you pretend at something long enough, doesn’t that mean it has to come true?

Okay, so maybe that’s not true. But if anyone has worked with me, they would tell me I am such a bubbly and happy person. I excel at all customer service roles I have been in. Wonder why? It’s because I have been pretending to be happy for so long that it’s all I know. I’m damn good at it. Because calling into work to say you’re too sad to come in just doesn’t work. Even if I said I am sick today; there’s judgement in how you acted the day before or the day after. Or, but her voice didn’t sound very sick? I hate that. So, I just go into work and pretend everything’s honkey dorey.

This post is hard to write. My depression is so familiar and comforting and sometimes feels like that warm heated blanket on a cold day. She’s the one that is always right when something bad happens. The I told you so in the back of your head. The negative voice that tells you when you shouldn’t do something or that you will fail. The one that tells you all the negative things people might be saying about you. And she is so convincing that you fall for it. Every. Damn. Time. It’s the devil in sheep clothing. The deceit. Sometimes, I start thinking about something and before I know it I’ve fallen into a trap and now I’m stuck in the hole. I didn’t see it coming and had no time to fight or prepare.

Certain times of the year end up being triggers for me as well. For some reason, every year, as soon as I see the first leaves start to change colour, I burst into tears. Most people love fall and it may be their favourite time of the year. For me, it means dark days are coming. The light starts to disappear, the temperature starts to drop, the trees change their leaves because they are dying and my dark cloud starts to descend. I know it may sound melodramatic to some, but it’s a real thing. The first year was melodramatic, but it has been about 15 years of this and over the years I always expect something bad to happen each September. If I hear the song by Green Day, Wake Me up when September Ends, I will instantly enter my depression. Also, there’s another one by Maroon 5. She will be Loved. Instant Depression again. It all brings me back to times in my past where something bad has happened in fall and brings back up the darkness. And, sometimes I don’t even want to fight it. I want to welcome it and just envelope my self in the past. Where it is comfortable and warm and safe. Until the regrets come. The judgement, the pain, the loss.

I have many regrets over the past 15 years and they all have something to do with my depression. Whether or not other people know it too. My depression consumed me for many years through high school and most people don’t know that I actually dropped out because of it. I couldn’t deal with it and it became too much. I dropped out of high school and went to live with my grandparents in Hamilton for about a month. I went back to school in January so it was only a semester, but the damage was done. I was behind so I wouldn’t graduate and there wasn’t actually any point to it so the last semester in grade 12 was a waste of time as well and really just a blur. I was numbing myself with drugs and alcohol so much that I really didn’t put an effort into school. Too much time was spent numbing out the feelings of worthlessness. If I started to feel sad, I would just smoke or drink and numb away the pain. Or to bring on some emotions. Because with depression, you don’t have energy for emotions. You’re exhausted and smiling takes the most effort. So, by drinking and smoking, it gives you energy to smile and to laugh. To fight just a little harder. But, it never helped. It never does. I still felt like I would never amount to anything and that I would never be good at anything. I also felt that no one really understood what I was going through. My friends had already started to drift away at that point so the only friends I had were the ones I was numbing myself with. I met new friends, but never let them in enough to see the pain I was going through. I had never truly felt so alone as I did during those dark years.

For the longest time, I had so many regrets. I regretted not reaching out to the friends who had lost hope in me. Who had stopped trying to reach me. I regret not asking for help sooner. For not knowing that the way I was feeling was not normal. That you’re not supposed to feel sad all the time.

In case, you didn’t know, imagine the person you love most in the world died tomorrow. Imagine how sad you would feel.…. The tightness that comes in your chest, and the quick shortness of breathe. Your eyes feel a little tingly but no tears come. Your body becomes so heavy that you just feel like you cannot even hold yourself upright. Now imagine those feelings without knowing why. Not knowing what had happened to make you feel this way. So, you start replaying the past day or 2 in your head to think of the reason. Oh, it must be that event. Or maybe it was this. Then you are stuck in a loop and feeling worthless and sad. And not enough energy to get out of bed. Sometimes I don’t even have the energy to move my limbs. It’s like my body is working in super slow motion and my reaction time is the same. Sometimes, people could try to scare me when I am depressed, and it just doesn’t work. My body can shut down. I won’t even flinch.

I knew writing this post would make me depressed. I think that could be partly the reason that I waited so long to write it. I’ve been doing really well for a while now, but my pessimistic brain is always waiting for the other shoe to drop. It knows that nothing good ever lasts. I know I am being dramatic again, but it’s true. Most things in life that are good, are too good to be true. Sorry to break it to you.

Anyways, speaking of good things, I will switch now to a more positive light tone because there is supposed to be a happy ending to this story.

In more recent years, I try to fight my depression. I used to ask people to tell me a funny story. Or a funny joke. Sometimes, if I can get myself laughing, then I can push the dark cloud farther away. Just enough to think clearly and be able to breathe again. But, you know it’s too late when nothing is funny anymore. When they tell the joke that you normally laugh at, but you can’t remember why it was funny in the first place. Maybe it was never funny. And, you just pretended to laugh. Pretended it was funny all along. It all blends together sometimes.

The stigma on mental health is funny to me though. So many people come forward that they suffer from mental health and that we should talk about it more. That’s part of the reason I started this blog. But, yet in the workplace, people are still scared to come forward. I’ve still yet to hear of a workplace that supports it. And, by that I mean within the GTA. And support is something that is not just about promoting it. People can talk all they want. But, what are they actually doing about it? Why not promote team engagement events. Get people laughing more. Have team building events. Where people get to know one another. Be more than just colleagues and create a family environment. Where people won’t feel ashamed to talk about it.

I created this blog to be part of the change. I wish there to be more people laughing at work. Not just with their colleagues but with their management. Laughter is something people don’t really think about too often. Well, unless you have depression. I used to have this journal with this quote on the cover:

“The most wasted of all days is one without laughter”

It always made me smile because it was so true. You have to be silly and have fun. Life is too short. Watch comedy, or some silly memes or gifs.  Share them with a colleague. Life shouldn’t be so serious all the time.

Sorry for the long post, but I felt there were a lot of words needed to describe something that has been a part of me for so long. Has shaped me into who I am today. Without my depression, I wouldn’t be writing this blog. Or have the strength and wisdom I have today. So, thank you depression. For giving me strength, courage, wisdom, and the will to fight. To know that tomorrow will be better than today.