It’s been two decades since I first faced the challenges of depression, and throughout this journey, I have battled numerous invisible symptoms. These often unnoticed signs have made it easy for me to conceal the true depth of my struggles for much of my life. One particularly intriguing aspect of these invisible symptoms is how they can manifest visibly, yet are frequently dismissed as mere laziness.
For roughly three years, I haven’t slept in my own bed. My nights have been spent rotating among different sofas in my home, with the rare exception being when I travel.
I’ve always been seen as a “messy” person. I tend to try on multiple outfits before settling on one, leaving a trail of clothes on my bed and floor. Empty or partially filled soda bottles seem to accumulate in every corner, and I sometimes let coffee cups linger for weeks until they develop a smell. My laundry hamper is perpetually overflowing, and I’ve barely done any laundry in the past few years. Instead of sifting through the chaos in my room, I’ve bought new socks and underwear. Dust accumulates on the windowsill as I often forget to clean.
Despite this outward mess, I know I’m not inherently a messy person. When I cook or bake, I make an effort to tidy up as I go. Before holidays, I meticulously reorganize my kitchen cupboards and pantries. I even take the time to arrange the apps on my phone by color! My love for organization shines through, but it seems to only manifest after a depressive episode has passed.
It has been three years since I felt energized enough to clean my entire bedroom. Recently, I’ve filled numerous bags with clothes for donation, almost finished my laundry, and have actually been sleeping in my own bed for nearly a month. Each night, I make sure to tidy up any items I might have tossed onto the floor throughout the day, and I’ve been vacuuming almost obsessively. This pattern is something my friend Alex can attest to.
The perception that I’m a messy person is misleading. One of the clear signs that I’m entering a depressive episode is when I neglect the pile of clothes on my bed, allowing it to become my makeshift sleeping space. The accumulation of soda bottles on my desk serves as another indicator. When I start to see my surroundings reflect the disarray I feel inside—cluttered, chaotic, dark, and grimy—it’s a clear warning that depression is creeping back in.
My room has often been a point of contention with my parents and has even sparked arguments with friends and past partners. They see the mess and assume they understand its cause, but in truth, my clutter has always been a silent cry for help that has gone unnoticed.
If you or someone you know is struggling, there are numerous resources available. You can find support through various organizations dedicated to mental health and well-being, including insightful articles from this resource on pregnancy and home insemination. For those interested in starting a family, consider checking out this guide for valuable information. For more tips and personal stories, visit this blog.
In summary, while my outward appearance may suggest a lack of organization, it often reflects the internal turmoil of my mental health struggles. Recognizing this connection can foster understanding and compassion for those battling similar issues.