In my mind have clinical depression. Which for me is like on and off all the time. I feel sad one day and happy the next, I can never predict how I will feel on a certain day.
Despite all social stigmas to the contrary or people accusing me of being “crazy,” I’m not ashamed to admit that I have depression. Just like I’m not ashamed to admit that I’m adopted or that I have ADHD.
The first time I experienced depression I was in sixth grade. I think it had something to do with the fact that my family wasn’t doing very well. I had gotten used to it then. But now I’m in the eighth and I have experienced more of the sad feelings and traumatic events. My mom quit doing daycare because my grandma was dying and my dad just got a new job as a call operator for problems people have with their devices at FirstOneData. Then there is the fact that my grandma had cancer and was slowly crippling away.
In seventh grade I started dealing with my depression by not eating. It wasn’t a conscious decision on my part. The stress and anxiety of my life made me have no appetite. I remember going through the lunch line at school and getting my tray then dumping it in the trash once I got it. After a while, one of the lunch ladies caught on and scolded me. So I learned it was best to take my tray, sit down, mess with the food but not eat anything, and then throw it away. I still do that to this day.
I don’t want to make it sound like I have an eating disorder because I didn’t. Not eating is a coping mechanism I unconsciously use when the stress and anxiety is overwhelming, and it isn’t overwhelming all the time but most of the time it is.
So let me tell you what depression is like for me. It is debilitating. It makes mundane, ordinary tasks like taking a shower or making the bed seem impossible. It is soul-sucking. It breaks you down into a person who no longer feels anything but apathy. It also makes you feel completely worthless and unlovable. When I’m in the throes of depression my brain lies to me and tells me that I am worth nothing. No one cares about me. The world would be a better place if I died. And when you have all this negative self-talk running through your head all day long, no amount of fluffy kitten pictures is going to take that away. No amount of weeding your neighbor’s garden is going to take all that negative self-talk away. If anything, you just tell yourself how worthless you are because you could have weeded that garden better and/or faster. Another thing that happens to me when I’m depressed is I isolate myself from others. The internet has made it super easy for me to be social without ever having to leave the house.
Maybe soon I will tell my parents that I have depression because they don’t know. Maybe they will get me help to feel better. Maybe one day I won’t feel like I’m not worthless, stupid or forgotten and I can get rid of my wanting to die thoughts. For now though I am handling myself and my feelings waiting for the day I will feel better.