the worst thing about depression is indifference
When I was first diagnosed with depression, I found myself going down the rabbit hole - Reddit posts from ten years ago, outdated mental health forums, and scattered blogposts written by other people with depression. In a sense, I felt like a pariah compared to my peers, and I was curious how depression manifests in others compared to me, because, despite living with this condition for years, I was clueless about what it was.
People tend to think that the most telltale sign of depression is sadness, but I discovered depression manifests overwhelmingly different across individuals: those who experience the crushing sadness, those with the intense mood swings, or those with detachment from their lives. There are depressed people who neglect hygiene for days, people who live in messy rooms overflowing with empty water bottles, and people who appear highly-functional and put together yet deep down are crumbling to pieces.
Throughout the years I was unknowingly battling depression, which malignantly disseminated my mind and body, I have experienced a vast rage of symptoms. I experienced the intense anger, sadness, mood swings. I have had my life fall apart during its peaks. But to me the worst state of it all is indifference.
It is not when I experience pervasive emotional pain, but rather, my lowest of lows is when I am feeling nothing - an absolute detachment towards my life, like it no longer belongs to me. Hobbies I once enjoyed? I don't feel any kind of motivation to engage in any. Friends? I am no longer interested in relationships and connecting with others. Plans? Dreams? I find myself seeking no pleasure in the grandiose goals I once set for myself.
(But I have hobbies, friends, and goals. I have a roof over my head, so why do I still feel chronically empty? Why aren't I happy? I ask myself.)
It is not that I don't want to feel, it is that I can't feel for the life of me. I was fascinated when I discovered that apathy is one of the major diagnostic criteria for depression, because I always thought my apathy was just me, my character. Now I believe that I unintentionally amalgamated my depression and identity into one, because I have been living with this condition for so long.
But I always remind myself that I am not my depression, and I am not my apathy.