Depression is such a difficult thing to describe, let alone deal with. I am what is called a functionally depressed and anxious person. This means I am able to for the most part meet my obligations, keep my job, put food on the table, and appear to be fine.
What goes on inside is a completely different story. I spend most mornings convincing myself that it is ok to get out of bed. I spend most days telling myself that I will be ok. I spend most days wishing and hoping for the time I can crawl back into bed again.
I do not like looking in the mirror. I struggle with positive feedback because I do not feel I deserve it, and negative feedback because I internalize it. I question basically every move I make because of the anxiety it makes me feel.
I also have times when all I want to do is stay in bed, away from all the stress. I have times when it feels like I am physically dragging a weight behind me that cannot be lifted no matter what I try. I often feel like I am making a huge effort just to get through a normal meeting.
While sometimes I want nothing more than to be alone in bed, I struggle with loneliness and being alone and am keenly aware of the oxymoron that is represented in my feelings.
I am aware I have skills, talents, and abilities. I am aware that I have friends and family that love me. I am aware that I am not alone. This things sustain me, but they do not remove the challenge. It is not something I can remove by taking a walk or counting my blessings. If prayer alone removed the anxiety, stress, and depression, I can attest I have prayed enough to receive that saving grace. I have and continue to be treated by modern advances in medicine and psychology. I am aware of triggers and things that make it worse, and coping mechanisms that make it better. In spite of all of this, the dark cloud remains. Sometimes it is small, in a corner, surrounded by the light and joy of life that I often feel. Sometimes it is large and encompassing, and I arm myself with umbrellas and rain coats and hats and boots, yet the storm still gets in. Sometimes those I love bring their own umbrellas and shelters and coverings, yet the storm gets in. Sometimes I receive strong shelter from the storm, but the rain still hits the roof and peeks through the window and I see it and feel it and know it is there, beating down on me.
I often feel weak, yet I know that I am strong. I know that getting up each day is an act of strength. I know that choosing to fortify myself and fight the feelings is an act of courage. It is an all-consuming battle.
I cope with music. I cope with the companionship of those I trust. I cope with theatre and entertainment and reading. I cope with the empathy of others. I cope with finding joy in little things. I do go for walks and count my blessings and all the other suggestions. I take medicine, I go to therapy. Sometimes I do lay down in bed or binge on netflix or eat something that comforts me. Sometimes my coping mechanisms are counterproductive.
This is real. I put on a happy face. I function. I am depressed. I am anxious. I doubt and fear. But I have reasons to not let it get to me. So I continue to try. "Where there is desire there is bound to be a flame, where there is a flame someone's bound to get burned. But just because it burns doesn't mean your gonna die. You got to get up and try." P!nk.
What goes on inside is a completely different story. I spend most mornings convincing myself that it is ok to get out of bed. I spend most days telling myself that I will be ok. I spend most days wishing and hoping for the time I can crawl back into bed again.
I do not like looking in the mirror. I struggle with positive feedback because I do not feel I deserve it, and negative feedback because I internalize it. I question basically every move I make because of the anxiety it makes me feel.
I also have times when all I want to do is stay in bed, away from all the stress. I have times when it feels like I am physically dragging a weight behind me that cannot be lifted no matter what I try. I often feel like I am making a huge effort just to get through a normal meeting.
While sometimes I want nothing more than to be alone in bed, I struggle with loneliness and being alone and am keenly aware of the oxymoron that is represented in my feelings.
I am aware I have skills, talents, and abilities. I am aware that I have friends and family that love me. I am aware that I am not alone. This things sustain me, but they do not remove the challenge. It is not something I can remove by taking a walk or counting my blessings. If prayer alone removed the anxiety, stress, and depression, I can attest I have prayed enough to receive that saving grace. I have and continue to be treated by modern advances in medicine and psychology. I am aware of triggers and things that make it worse, and coping mechanisms that make it better. In spite of all of this, the dark cloud remains. Sometimes it is small, in a corner, surrounded by the light and joy of life that I often feel. Sometimes it is large and encompassing, and I arm myself with umbrellas and rain coats and hats and boots, yet the storm still gets in. Sometimes those I love bring their own umbrellas and shelters and coverings, yet the storm gets in. Sometimes I receive strong shelter from the storm, but the rain still hits the roof and peeks through the window and I see it and feel it and know it is there, beating down on me.
I often feel weak, yet I know that I am strong. I know that getting up each day is an act of strength. I know that choosing to fortify myself and fight the feelings is an act of courage. It is an all-consuming battle.
I cope with music. I cope with the companionship of those I trust. I cope with theatre and entertainment and reading. I cope with the empathy of others. I cope with finding joy in little things. I do go for walks and count my blessings and all the other suggestions. I take medicine, I go to therapy. Sometimes I do lay down in bed or binge on netflix or eat something that comforts me. Sometimes my coping mechanisms are counterproductive.
This is real. I put on a happy face. I function. I am depressed. I am anxious. I doubt and fear. But I have reasons to not let it get to me. So I continue to try. "Where there is desire there is bound to be a flame, where there is a flame someone's bound to get burned. But just because it burns doesn't mean your gonna die. You got to get up and try." P!nk.
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