One does not simply just “get over” depression

“You are one of the most un-depressed depressed people I know,” Kat said to me one morning on our usual Friday morning runs. When she said that to me, I had to smile. Thing is, she wasn’t the first person that has ever said that to me. She isn’t going to be the last one either.

That’s right. I’m coming out and admitting it in a public forum. I have clinical depression.

It used to be my “dirty little secret;” something I kept from people because I was afraid of what they would think of me if they knew that I was seriously screwed up in the head. The few people I tried to talk to about it, family included, would tell me that it was just a case of the blues or that I didn’t really have a reason to feel the way I did. I actually had someone close to me tell me that they didn’t understand why I was taking anti-depressants and that I was weak because of it. I had it pretty great, why did I feel like I did?

I don’t have an answer for you that you are going to understand other than “I just do.”

Depression is defined as a condition of general emotional dejection and withdrawal; sadness greater and more prolonged than that warranted by any objective reason. A bunch of fancy words for basically saying a deep sadness for no reason whatsoever. Sure, it can start because something happened to cause it, but sometimes depression happens just because it happens.

In my case, that’s exactly what happened.

My mom told me that when I was 4 years old and was in kindergarten, I was almost kicked out because I would sit by myself in the corner of the classroom. I’d put myself in time out, the teacher would say. My mom would be worried and come to the school and see me sitting there in the corner, all by myself. Sometimes I’d have a book in my hands, sometimes I’d be there just sitting there staring off into the distance.

She was worried, of course, but there really wasn’t anything wrong with me. We joke about it now because back then no one really knew anything about depression.

Christmas as Kids

Flash forward to now. I think about my past, about how I grew up and the signs were there. Oh, how the signs were there. But again…it’s not like depression was such a huge prevalent thing. It’s not something that people talk about seriously, even now. It’s brushed under the rug, joked about, even shoved aside. Even Brian has rolled his eyes a few times when I mention that I’m just having a down day. And I really wish I could say with confidence that it’s okay for people to be like that, but the truth is I can’t because emotional disorders like this are just as serious as physical ones.

Depression is serious and telling someone to just ‘get over it’ does more damage than good. One does not simply just ‘get over’ depression, instead we learn how to live with it. We learn how to function without letting it run our lives, whether it’s with medication, with therapy, with techniques to stop the rampant thoughts or a combination of all three. Some days are better than others; some are fantastic! Some days suck and make you want to sleep all day and wallow yourself in self pity and chocolate pudding.

After spending a little over a week without my anti-depressants I’ve realized just how bad I still am. I slept way more than I should have, the self deprecating thoughts were so much worse than usual, and the feelings of worthlessness and hopelessness? It was overwhelming at times. But if you were to have seen me at work or at lunch, you would never know. You would have never known and it’s not because I am a good actress, it’s because I know how to control those thoughts and how to stop myself from sliding back into that place.

But the truth is, I was miserable. I was sad and I was heart broken, and I wanted nothing more than to have someone come up to me and say “I see it, and I want you to know that you ARE worth it and you ARE okay.”

People fighting depression like this are not going to ask for help, because we think that we are somehow in the wrong. People fighting depression are not going to seek out comfort or validation. We think that it’s our fault, even if logic tells us that it’s not possible. We think that we somehow deserve this because we aren’t good enough, or because we aren’t smart enough, or because we just simply aren’t enough. It’s going to be up to you to notice it and make that first step.

After two doses of my Wellbutrin, I can already tell you that I feel….better. Normal. My sleep patterns are better, and the thoughts are slowing down significantly, and I don’t feel as sad. And I’m writing this, which means a thousand things that I can’t put into words. You might see a significant difference in me from last week to this week if you watch carefully enough.

Me, Now

The whole point of this long, drawn out, personal blog is this: Depression is real, and it hurts, and it’s not something you can just “get over” so be careful with your words. What was that quote?

Be Kind; Everyone You Meet is Fighting a Hard Battle