Living With Depression: A Guide for Bystanders

I’ve wanted to talk about my experience with depression for a long time, but the people who know you don’t want to hear because it’s painful and the people who don’t well… don’t care.

I’ve always tried to be very honest about my struggles, not for attention but because I desperately want to break the stigma against it, breaking the silence so to say. I often get the sense when I talk about it that people don’t believe me when I say I used to cut, or that I struggle with anxiety attacks on nearly a daily basis, or that I am only alive because of the medication I take. One of the hardest things about living with depression is getting people to understand what you are going through without looking pathetic. So that is why I want to give you a day in the life of me, someone who has been living with clinical depression for the majority of her life. I hope that some of you can identify with this and know you’re not alone, or have a better understanding of what your peers are going through when they admit that they are depressed. Because just understanding us and letting us do what we need to do to treat our illness is so important.

Every day I have to convince myself to get up. Usually I remember to take my medication but I have a really bad memory and usually at least one day a week I leave the house without them. Those days are usually worse. I usually go to Tim Horton’s in the morning for a tea. The familiarity of the drink helps me concentrate and calm down. If I’m feeling particularly shitty I’ll probably also get a doughnut, although the shame of it doesn’t make me feel much better either way.

After my second class for the day I am usually in pain. When I say ‘in pain’ what I really mean is the indescribable depressive feeling I get when I can’t fake a smile anymore. I am lucky to live very close to campus so at this time I usually try to go home and take a breather, but if I have¬†class… well I’ll often skip. I’ll tell my classmates I feel sick, or that I don’t care about class because it’s a joke, or too easy- and I’d rather just read the slides from home. In actuality, I just need to sit and cry or sleep off the shitty feelings. If I can’t go home, due to presentations or tests, then a quick bathroom visit is necessary. I can’t count the amount of times I’ve sat in a UA bathroom sniffling away tears. People will often say, ‘just smile and you’ll feel better’ but that has never worked for me. When I’m having a depressive episode, if I smile I almost certainly WILL burst into tears. I don’t know if I’m the only one like this, but faking a smile is painful a physical level.

 

 

 

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