By: Jamie Collins
Updated: Aug. 3, 2016
Originally Published: Aug. 14, 2015
It feels strange to openly discuss my personal struggles with depression. In fact, I’ve never even uttered that word in relation to myself until now. It’s a term that feels almost foreign. I don’t fit the stereotype of someone battling depression, but perhaps that’s why I feel an urgent need to share my experience. There are undoubtedly others who, like me, recognize an internal struggle but feel paralyzed by their ability to mask it. I once thought depression meant lying in bed, incapacitated and tearful, but that’s not the only face it wears.
Depression can be insidious; it allows you to carry out daily activities while feeling like a hollow shell inside. You might go through the motions—taking care of responsibilities, maintaining relationships, and even smiling at strangers—while inside, you feel like an aimless shadow of your former self.
For me, the turmoil began just before the tragic passing of Robin Williams. I’ve always been prone to anxiety, but last year, something shifted, and I unraveled. My usual nervousness escalated to an overwhelming degree, with racing thoughts and shaking hands. Instead of seeking help, I withdrew, hoping the fog would lift on its own.
That’s when the lies took hold. “Depression lies.” You might have heard this phrase before. It didn’t take much for my thoughts to spiral down into a dark abyss: “I’m a bother.” “Nobody likes me.” “I’m not funny.” “I’m unattractive.” “I’m stupid.” “I’m utterly worthless.” Despite those harsh voices, a part of me knew something was off. I argued with myself, trying to find clarity, but instead, I felt more lost.
One particularly frightening lie that crept in was: “Life will always be like this.” To the outside world, I appeared fine. I managed to get out of bed each day, care for my children, and fulfill my obligations. I was like a puppet, moving through life without anyone suspecting the turmoil inside. I was just going through the motions, but it was all a façade.
There were subtle signs, though. My mom and sister might recall when I became less communicative, and friends may remember the time we seemed to drift apart. My husband noticed my distant demeanor and asked if I was okay, while our children pointed out how it seemed like I was often in “another world.”
During that tumultuous year, I found myself fixating on a kitchen knife while cooking. The way it sliced through vegetables momentarily distracted me from the pain I felt inside. But even in those dark moments, I knew that acting on those thoughts would only lead to more pain for my loved ones.
Although I’ve never considered suicide or been bedridden, I often thought that my struggles didn’t qualify me for the term “depression.” I felt like an imposter, unable to articulate my feelings. Yet, I began to understand how someone could reach that point of despair, believing that life would never improve.
A few months ago, a friend mentioned her depression in a social media group, and the support she received struck a chord with me. I realized how common these feelings are. One day, I found myself typing, “I have forgotten how to be happy” in a private online space. Before I could erase it, a fellow member urged me to seek help, and slowly, I began to open up about my feelings.
After some time, I reached out for professional support. I’m still navigating the journey of understanding my anxiety and triggers, but I’m beginning to feel a glimmer of hope again. Working with a therapist has been transformative. Even as I share my story, I still grapple with the feeling that I don’t have the right to claim my struggles.
This brings us back to the insidious nature of depression. Robin Williams’s passing resonated deeply with me, and I comprehend how someone can fall into the belief that life will always be bleak. But that belief is false. If you relate to my story, know that those negative thoughts are lies. Seek support; life can—and will—get better. There is hope, but it requires taking that crucial step to ask for help. If you’re interested in more insights on this topic, check out this blog post.
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In conclusion, acknowledging and addressing our struggles is the first step toward healing. It’s crucial to remember that you’re not alone, and there’s always a path to brighter days ahead.
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