Updated: Aug. 1, 2023
Originally Published: Aug. 8, 2014
As someone who writes for a living, I’ve always tried to cover a range of topics. It’s essentially my forte. But let’s be real: being funny sometimes feels like I’m wearing a mask, pretending to be someone I’m not. I genuinely enjoy laughter—both giving and receiving—but often, that’s not how I truly feel.
Navigating my thoughts can be challenging, particularly when it comes to discussing depression. There’s a nagging fear that opening up makes me appear weak or that it won’t resonate because it’s not light-hearted. After all, everyone has their own struggles, so who would want to read about mine?
The other hurdle is that articulating my feelings can be a monumental task. Deep depression is tricky to comprehend, especially for those who haven’t experienced it. I have days where I manage to write something that doesn’t make me cringe or spend time outdoors. On those days, I seem functional and okay.
But then, there are days—sometimes even within the same day—when depression hits me like a brick wall. It can feel like a virus that takes over my mind, making me remind myself not to veer my car into oncoming traffic or walk too close to a cliff’s edge. Those are the moments I should reach out for help, but depression has a way of convincing me that I don’t deserve it—that I’m just whining and should toughen up. It’s difficult to express that depression isn’t merely sadness, and OCD isn’t just about needing things tidy; they can be utterly debilitating.
For me, this struggle has taken both a physical and mental toll. My focus often feels non-existent, and I find myself alternating between staring blankly at my screen and feeling trapped behind an invisible wall of inadequacy. In an attempt to escape, I engage in excessive exercise, hoping to feel something—anything other than numbness.
The immediate repercussions of my actions seem irrelevant because, at that moment, nothing feels like it matters. Even the distraction I find through these unhealthy habits gives me a false sense of control. But no matter what I do, it never feels sufficient.
That’s the insidious nature of depression. It distorts your thoughts, making even simple tasks feel like wading through quicksand. Work becomes a bore, joy turns stale, and sadness transforms into something unbearable. Everything loses its meaning, even past achievements and hobbies once enjoyed. Ultimately, depression is the absence of hope.
I’m sharing this because the stigma surrounding depression—or any mental health issue that strays from the conventional “norm”—can be isolating. We often feel pressured to ignore our daily struggles, convinced that others have it all figured out while we’re just failing. But that’s simply not true.
While I can’t offer a motivational speech or a neat resolution, I want to remind you that you’re not alone. You’re not broken or deserving of this burden; you’re just human. You’re doing your best with the strength you possess, choosing to cling to hope and fight through the tough days. And even when it feels impossible, I’m making that choice too.
It’s all I know how to do, and remember, we don’t have to navigate this journey solo. Hopefully, by the end of the day, we can uncover something that brings a smile or find someone who understands us. Sometimes that’s all we need—everything we need.
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Summary:
This article discusses the struggle of living with depression and the stigma surrounding mental health issues. The author shares personal experiences of feeling trapped and isolated while emphasizing that readers are not alone in their battles. The key message is that it’s okay to seek help and share your journey, as many are facing similar challenges.