i haven't talked about depression & my old self in a while
It's been almost two years since my diagnosis and nearly six months since I've last written about it. Time has passed, unnoticeably, yet I still ask myself: who are you now, after all this?
For two years, I've kept a list of bullet points describing who I was before (Was it a desperate attempt to claw back to my old self?). I was looking for the seam, the precise place where I was unwillingly morphed into this version of myself. But I never found it, and I never will. There is no moment of rupture I can point to; only someone continuously becoming, whether she wants it or not.
Forever, I am changed.
You see, it's been a while since depression swallowed me whole. Is it because I've stopped treating it like something to defeat but, instead, to outlast? There's a whole industry of advice built for people like us: go outside! talk to someone! exercise for 30 mins! Who gives a fuck about 30 mins of cardio when your entire life is falling apart? Such advice assumes you can even stand. What I needed wasn't a wellness routine (just yet), but a strategy built for the actual conditions of my life, which means, first, accepting:
This is not the flu. You cannot rest for 24 hours and wake up fixed. You won't treat it with a single pill and a glass of water. This is a long-term battle, and it will ask things of you that no one else can prescribe. For me, it looked like learning which days required forcing myself out of bed and which are for giving myself full, sanctioned permission to rot. It looked like letting the disgusting, ugly feelings erupt without trying to bury them out of guilt.
There is no right way to survive depression, and when it comes to surviving for the long run, you will never get your old self back. You'll get someone who learns how to carry it.