Breathing
Some days... It seems like most of my days anymore, that simple task, breathing, feels like a monumental task. By definition, depression is a condition of general emotional dejection and withdrawal; sadness greater and more prolonged than that warranted by any objective reason.
After having my son, it was easily diagnosed as post partum, despite the years that I hid my anxieties beforehand. Unless you have experienced the darkness, the feeling of simply gasping for a breath when in fact there is nothing there physically taking it from you, it is so very hard to understand. A simple question like "Where do you see yourself in five years?" may as well be a question about the Bermuda Triangle, just surviving the day can be considered a victory.
The past few weeks have been some of the worst. I feel like I tell myself that every so many weeks, and with each mantra, I feel a little more defeated. The issue with depression is that you lose reasoning, the ability to be rational, to see things that someone in the outside can see. Others can look in, and think you are just seeking attention, or a pity party- that you are ungrateful for what you have. When in fact, you just can't feel. Everything around you is just a dark hole, every thought brings about a sting, a hurt, something that you can't undo or that you can't stop questioning.
You can see yourself hurting those around you, and try as you may, you just can't find the right words or actions to stop. Sometimes you can go months without the darkness coming back, other times you watch the clock for minutes hoping to occupy your thoughts long enough to declare yourself sane.
I've had two people, two, out of everyone in my entire life that I have ever encountered that I could lean on, share, cry to in these moments. Neither have been a significant other or a therapist, as wrong as that is. Sharing something as scary, unknown and deep as depression is, it's beyond giving your love or your companionship- it's a part of you that is the deepest and scariest. To open that up to someone and risk it being hurt, mocked, tarnished... For someone who can barely fathom a question about five year goals, that seems impossible. Like a fairytale, a unicorn, something that only exists in theory.
In my tear stained moments, I was reminded, that I can be happy, that I do want to be happy, that just because in these moments I am not happy doesn't mean that I don't look forward to happiness again. There has been a viral story, I saw it a while ago on several of the blogs I follow, a husband left his wife a list of things written on the mirror, all the things he loved about her. She struggles with depression, and her admittance to it touched home in so many ways.
The list says: 1. she is my best friend 2. she never quits on herself or me 3. she gives me time to work on my crazy projects 4. she makes me laugh, everyday 5. she is gorgeous 6. she accepts the crazy person i am 7. she's the kindest person i know 8. she's got a beautiful singing voice 9. she's gone to a strip club with me 10. she has experienced severe tragedy yet is the most optimistic person about humanity i know 11. she has been fully supportive about my career choices and followed me each time 12. without realizing it, she makes me want to do more for her than i have ever wanted to do for anyone 13. she's done an amazing job at advancing her career path 14. small animals make her cry 15. she snorts when she laughs I've been juggling a LOT lately. Trying to do well at work. Just got married. Couldn't afford a wedding. Family is sparse. Falling out with friends, yaddadyadda. But, the thing is, amidst all the struggle, my husband has relentlessly tried to cheer me up. I've not been the easiest person to deal with. In fact, sometimes I've lost all hope and even taken my frustration out on my new husband. But he somehow forgives me every time. I have a long journey ahead of me, and I know he probably realizes I'm depressed. But he holds my hand, and he tries his best. Today when I came home from a trip to SF, I flopped onto my bed in tears. I looked to my left, and saw these words painted all across my mirror. I think he wanted me to remember how much he loves me. Because he knows how quickly I forget. He knows I struggle to see good in the world, and especially the good in myself. But here it is. A testament and gesture of his love. Damn, I needed it today... I'm not saying mental illness is cured by nice words on a mirror. In fact, it takes professional care, love, empathy, sometimes even medication just to cope. Many people struggle with it mental illness - more than we probably even realize. And instead of showing them hate or anger when they act out. Show them kindness and remind them things can and WILL get better. Everyone needs a little help sometimes. If that person can't be you - see if you have any resources for therapy. EDIT: The thing is... I am not "too good" or "not good enough" for my husband. We all have our down days. And sometimes we don't handle it well. BUT, we are partners. He is here for me when I'm down. And I cherish that. And he has his down days, too. And I will be there to hold his hand, just like he holds mine. Life can be hard. The answer is never to mock, scoff, or belittle someone. Be kind. Be the best version of yourself. And be most of all- be patient. I'm still struggling, but I'm glad I have my other half to help me make it through. It may just be a few words on my mirror, but I'll look at them when I wake up and know I'm not alone. I'll know I have my bestfriend, my co-pilot in life to help guide me through
So many people have applauded this husband for his gesture, and should- but her words ring true as well. Getting through this each day is the hardest thing I have ever done. Growing up, I lacked the resources to know what to do with my emotions. I always felt in a constant state of being unloved, like I was simply a pawn between my parents, not a child that either actually wanted. This led to jumping into a relationship in college and then another with my now ex husband in which I struggled for years trying everything to get the affection I strived for, that I thought I husband should have for his wife. Over those years of marriage I watched my relationships fail with my parents and siblings, and then slowly mend. Through my divorce, my world crashed around me and the lack of a foundation for my un-formed emotions has been apparent. I suppose neither of my parents may know how to handle what I am going through, but it brings back the feelings of my childhood nonetheless. The old darkness has never actually left, and now all the new wounds don't know how to heal.
Today, as I sat at lunch with my boyfriend, for the first time, I mentioned that I struggle with this monster. As I feared, like so many, the question was asked, if I was still depressed, and that he is sorry he isn't making me happy. I could have cried at that moment, my world could have shattered. I didn't have the words or the ability to explain how this couldn't be further from the truth.
In society, we put so much pressure on people.. to be thin, happy, perfect- that THIS is what happens. Someone doesn't fit the mold, and there must be a fault somewhere. Here is what society fails to explain- there is no normal, no such thing as "happy" for everyone. Social media has truly run our lives into the ground. We constantly look to be better than our neighbor, taking shot after shot to prove that we are picture perfect, it's all fake. Why can't we just live, have our good days and our bad? Some of us have more bad days than good, and we need those that we love to be there, unconditionally- because we truly can't see that light at the end of the tunnel. It isn't that you are doing anything wrong, it isn't that we don't love you with every ounce that we have to give, it's that we simply don't have anything to give because some days just breathing is difficult.
I have a lifetime of darkness, of healing to get through; all of this stuff that I am only now able to do- now that I am able to be my own person, that I can think on my own, that I have been given the chance to figure this breathing thing out. It's hard, some days it sucks plain and simple. I don't always have answers, I just know that the little boy I go home to at the end of the day keeps me going and the people that, for better or worse , have managed to see me through all these horrible days have really been my saving grace.
After having my son, it was easily diagnosed as post partum, despite the years that I hid my anxieties beforehand. Unless you have experienced the darkness, the feeling of simply gasping for a breath when in fact there is nothing there physically taking it from you, it is so very hard to understand. A simple question like "Where do you see yourself in five years?" may as well be a question about the Bermuda Triangle, just surviving the day can be considered a victory.
The past few weeks have been some of the worst. I feel like I tell myself that every so many weeks, and with each mantra, I feel a little more defeated. The issue with depression is that you lose reasoning, the ability to be rational, to see things that someone in the outside can see. Others can look in, and think you are just seeking attention, or a pity party- that you are ungrateful for what you have. When in fact, you just can't feel. Everything around you is just a dark hole, every thought brings about a sting, a hurt, something that you can't undo or that you can't stop questioning.
You can see yourself hurting those around you, and try as you may, you just can't find the right words or actions to stop. Sometimes you can go months without the darkness coming back, other times you watch the clock for minutes hoping to occupy your thoughts long enough to declare yourself sane.
I've had two people, two, out of everyone in my entire life that I have ever encountered that I could lean on, share, cry to in these moments. Neither have been a significant other or a therapist, as wrong as that is. Sharing something as scary, unknown and deep as depression is, it's beyond giving your love or your companionship- it's a part of you that is the deepest and scariest. To open that up to someone and risk it being hurt, mocked, tarnished... For someone who can barely fathom a question about five year goals, that seems impossible. Like a fairytale, a unicorn, something that only exists in theory.
In my tear stained moments, I was reminded, that I can be happy, that I do want to be happy, that just because in these moments I am not happy doesn't mean that I don't look forward to happiness again. There has been a viral story, I saw it a while ago on several of the blogs I follow, a husband left his wife a list of things written on the mirror, all the things he loved about her. She struggles with depression, and her admittance to it touched home in so many ways.
The list says: 1. she is my best friend 2. she never quits on herself or me 3. she gives me time to work on my crazy projects 4. she makes me laugh, everyday 5. she is gorgeous 6. she accepts the crazy person i am 7. she's the kindest person i know 8. she's got a beautiful singing voice 9. she's gone to a strip club with me 10. she has experienced severe tragedy yet is the most optimistic person about humanity i know 11. she has been fully supportive about my career choices and followed me each time 12. without realizing it, she makes me want to do more for her than i have ever wanted to do for anyone 13. she's done an amazing job at advancing her career path 14. small animals make her cry 15. she snorts when she laughs I've been juggling a LOT lately. Trying to do well at work. Just got married. Couldn't afford a wedding. Family is sparse. Falling out with friends, yaddadyadda. But, the thing is, amidst all the struggle, my husband has relentlessly tried to cheer me up. I've not been the easiest person to deal with. In fact, sometimes I've lost all hope and even taken my frustration out on my new husband. But he somehow forgives me every time. I have a long journey ahead of me, and I know he probably realizes I'm depressed. But he holds my hand, and he tries his best. Today when I came home from a trip to SF, I flopped onto my bed in tears. I looked to my left, and saw these words painted all across my mirror. I think he wanted me to remember how much he loves me. Because he knows how quickly I forget. He knows I struggle to see good in the world, and especially the good in myself. But here it is. A testament and gesture of his love. Damn, I needed it today... I'm not saying mental illness is cured by nice words on a mirror. In fact, it takes professional care, love, empathy, sometimes even medication just to cope. Many people struggle with it mental illness - more than we probably even realize. And instead of showing them hate or anger when they act out. Show them kindness and remind them things can and WILL get better. Everyone needs a little help sometimes. If that person can't be you - see if you have any resources for therapy. EDIT: The thing is... I am not "too good" or "not good enough" for my husband. We all have our down days. And sometimes we don't handle it well. BUT, we are partners. He is here for me when I'm down. And I cherish that. And he has his down days, too. And I will be there to hold his hand, just like he holds mine. Life can be hard. The answer is never to mock, scoff, or belittle someone. Be kind. Be the best version of yourself. And be most of all- be patient. I'm still struggling, but I'm glad I have my other half to help me make it through. It may just be a few words on my mirror, but I'll look at them when I wake up and know I'm not alone. I'll know I have my bestfriend, my co-pilot in life to help guide me through
So many people have applauded this husband for his gesture, and should- but her words ring true as well. Getting through this each day is the hardest thing I have ever done. Growing up, I lacked the resources to know what to do with my emotions. I always felt in a constant state of being unloved, like I was simply a pawn between my parents, not a child that either actually wanted. This led to jumping into a relationship in college and then another with my now ex husband in which I struggled for years trying everything to get the affection I strived for, that I thought I husband should have for his wife. Over those years of marriage I watched my relationships fail with my parents and siblings, and then slowly mend. Through my divorce, my world crashed around me and the lack of a foundation for my un-formed emotions has been apparent. I suppose neither of my parents may know how to handle what I am going through, but it brings back the feelings of my childhood nonetheless. The old darkness has never actually left, and now all the new wounds don't know how to heal.
Today, as I sat at lunch with my boyfriend, for the first time, I mentioned that I struggle with this monster. As I feared, like so many, the question was asked, if I was still depressed, and that he is sorry he isn't making me happy. I could have cried at that moment, my world could have shattered. I didn't have the words or the ability to explain how this couldn't be further from the truth.
In society, we put so much pressure on people.. to be thin, happy, perfect- that THIS is what happens. Someone doesn't fit the mold, and there must be a fault somewhere. Here is what society fails to explain- there is no normal, no such thing as "happy" for everyone. Social media has truly run our lives into the ground. We constantly look to be better than our neighbor, taking shot after shot to prove that we are picture perfect, it's all fake. Why can't we just live, have our good days and our bad? Some of us have more bad days than good, and we need those that we love to be there, unconditionally- because we truly can't see that light at the end of the tunnel. It isn't that you are doing anything wrong, it isn't that we don't love you with every ounce that we have to give, it's that we simply don't have anything to give because some days just breathing is difficult.
I have a lifetime of darkness, of healing to get through; all of this stuff that I am only now able to do- now that I am able to be my own person, that I can think on my own, that I have been given the chance to figure this breathing thing out. It's hard, some days it sucks plain and simple. I don't always have answers, I just know that the little boy I go home to at the end of the day keeps me going and the people that, for better or worse , have managed to see me through all these horrible days have really been my saving grace.
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