i will survive long enough to have it
I did not think I had depression, until I received an official diagnosis back in May. Depression? I thought. How come I had depression?
But things slowly starting clicking.
It was not that I didn't notice I was depressed, but I thought it was just me - a cynical person who was not actively seeking enough joy. I thought my lack of interest in living was an innate personality trait, something in my genetic makeup that I couldn't change.
For me, though, depression turned out to be a lifelong companion. It was always there, hovering like a dark cloud above my head. In some way, I think it gradually seeped into my entire being and consumed me, till we fused into one - depression and me. I think that's why I didn't notice something was severely wrong with the way I approached my life. It felt like the norm. I identified with it.
I am not sure if I feel relieved or ashamed. I was always vocal about the importance of mental health, but to have something actually wrong with me, made me feel like a pariah compared to my peers. It made me carry a shame so heavy, I wanted to disappear. I always felt like the odd one out - with my behaviors and way of thinking - but I thought these feelings were due to my lack of self-esteem. Turns out something was truly, horribly wrong.
At the same time, I feel relieved that it is not actually me (this is taking me a longer time to process, though. I am actively trying to convince myself that I am not my depression. I am not a mental illness, not a compilation of shitty symptoms. I am a human being suffering from a chemical imbalance in my brain. What I mean is - I try to think of my depression more tangibly, like the flu. You don't identify with the flu when you get it. You know it is a physical sickness that will eventually go away. But, honestly? Sometimes I think a physical illness would be easier to explain to people.)
My psychologist wanted me to diversify my life. She ran me through a list of endless questions: "How do you spend your time?" "What do you do during the weekends?" "What are your life goals?". I soon realized I barely had coherent answers, mumbling an endless series of "I am not sure"'s and "I don't know"'s though, all throughout my life, I always considered myself a driven person.
In my research after my diagnosis, I learned they call this whole thing a high-functioning, depressed person. You study, go to work, run errands, functioning like the people around you. Yet, deep down you still feel a chronic emptiness in the pit of your stomach, a lingering despair that leaves you wondering why nothing feels fulfilling. That was exactly how I felt all my life, but identifying with this form of suffering for so long made it difficult to see how flawed, and even dangerous, my though process has become.
It was, in fact, not a form of nihilism. A nihilist believes life is utterly meaningless. In their philosophy, if nothing has meaning, then there is nothing to be either happy or depressed about. Instead, it was depression. (An interesting quandary, right? I am thinking of diving deeper into this topic in another post.)
Anyway, the point of this post is not to dwell on my depression. I have done my fair share of dwelling and venting the past month. The point of this post - and perhaps the philosophy of this whole blog - is to give myself a sense of hope, to prove myself to stay alive for the long run. I just thought some context would be beneficial for the direction that I am going for with this blog.
My psychologist told me to give it one month. "Allow yourself one month to do everything your heart wants you to do," she said. "Talk to your friends. Walk under the sun for 30 minutes every day. Approach new people. Search for local opportunities in art. Visit new places."
I wasn't convinced at first. I still not am if I am being honest, with that hellish voice in my head ricocheting "What's the point?" over and over again. But I want to challenge myself, like I said. I want to prove that voice in my head wrong. There is a lot of things to live for. Maybe for a feeling, a song, a friend, a goal. But there is something out there, waiting for me, and I will survive long enough to have it.