Preface:
One of the many reasons I am a writer is because it is free therapy. Through writing I can articulate my hopes, fears, struggles, and conundrums. Yet I find that most of the time when I feel compelled to write it is because I am facing a struggle and I don't know how to deal with it. Sometimes this manifests itself in ways that make it seem like I am just a self indulgent writer who is always "depressed". Contrary to the evidence, this isn't true.
Yes, I am depressed in the sense that I struggle with depression and anxiety issues. Yes, I tend to write when issues arise which provide fuel to the fire of my chemically imbalanced, though behaviorally modified, brain. This isn't a snapshot of me, but a snapshot of one part of my life. And in an effort to make it more understandable for those who may get depressed, but don't suffer from depression, I thought I'd try and explain what that experience feels like. Here's my attempt...
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As someone who suffers from depression, I don’t need any
help feeling bad about myself.
No, I’m not a self-mutilator, or even a self-hater. I think I am a pretty cool chick,
happening in a far out way. (Or at
least I am goofy enough to pay homage to The
Brady Bunch movie in my description of myself.) My form of depression manifests itself in a different type
of insidious, pervasive thought process of being alone forever.
Certain times this feeling is harder to combat. Weddings are glorious celebrations, but I have no desire to participate in the tossing the bouquet tradition. As I have watched more and more friends marry I have also watched the median age of the single ladies plummet beneath my age bracket. After about 11 unsuccessful catches in the metaphorical game (and many years of not dating in the real-life game) I decide I wanted to not have a constant reminder of my singleton status.
I have an incredibly talented friend who takes extraordinary
pictures of families, especially little ones. I marvel at her skill and joy in the beauty she
captures. But I also sometimes
break down into tears because I feel that a family is something I will never
have. I think “I will never have a
need for her services, never have a group of people to know I had a hand in
creating or raising. My Christmas newsletter will never need a photographic representation of my partner in life, because I don't have one.”
I vacation with friends and have an incredible time. I don’t have to worry about the
sleeping arrangements – I am going to get the “kiddy” pirate bed that isn’t
actually in a room, but an alcove.
I don’t have to worry about the lottery in choosing amongst a wide range
of bedrooms – from secluded King, to a Jack-n-Jill bathroom with a bunk bed
arrangement. But I don’t get to
cuddle with someone as we take a nighttime walk on the beach. I am in awe of the stars, mesmerized by the ebb and flow of the ocean, and feel the force of a higher power as land and sea roll into one. Amidst observing the hand of God in action, I am shaken from my reverie. I fold my arms around me, trying to
contain the aching sadness as I stare into the ocean, trying to
avoid watching those around me marvel at the beauty of the sea, just like I did, while holding
hands with their partner. The only
hands I have to hold are my own. Unwillingly and brought upon by nothing I do, I feel jolted into a lonely reality where I can't even enjoy the beauty around me.
It doesn't take a majestic site for me to experience this sense of isolation, and it doesn't always happen when you'd expect it. I don’t have a problem being a 3rd or a 5th
wheel when dining out, or dining out alone. I love sharing meals with friends and I love having the chance to read, work, or people watch at my own pace when I am by myself. When out with a large group - the 7th wheel or higher – that is when it becomes painful. We aren’t being counted anymore
individually, but by couples. And
I am always left out of that arithmetic.
“I’m on my own check,” feels like another twist in my heart, yet another
reminder that I am adrift alone while everyone else seems to have a double
occupancy flotation device.
Like everyone who suffers from depression, I can physically
see the reality of my situation. I
am not alone. I have friends,
coworkers, family, and countless compadres who will help me, no questions
asked. I know this cerebrally, but
my emotions do not experience the same thing. I ache for what I don’t have, and my skewed biological
make-up wants to tell me that it is something I will NEVER have. I don’t want that to be true. But wishing won’t make it so. Hoping doesn’t make it happen. Not focusing on it doesn’t change
anything. Actively seeking a
partner has yet to provide any fruitful results. So what is left to do besides despair and feel that this is
my reality – a reality I am not content with? Today, I am struggling with that answer, feeling like it is almost pulling me under.
And then the "Hallelujah" chorus can begin, because putting these thoughts on (virtual) paper has helped me exorcise these demons (at least for a little while). I don't feel as helpless as before. It doesn't always happen this way - many times I write what I am feeling and all I feel afterwards is worse. But eventually, sometimes weeks or months later, I am able to to look back, and look ahead, with less feelings of dejection and sadness. Looking forward doesn't always give me a glimpse of happy sunshine, birds chirping their happily-ever-after tunes, and promises of a rosy future. But I can recognize the hope a new day can bring.
If you have never stumbled across the blog Hyperbole and a Half, do yourself a favor and check it out. The writer (Allie) chronicles her own journey with depression in a way that is hilarious, insightful, and spot-on. Check it out here: http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/2011/10/adventures-in-depression.html.
(Also, if you, like me, take great joy in absurd responses to ridiculous errors in communication, you'll love Allie's blog entry about the "Alot" monster. This is her way of control the visceral rage that befalls many of us nerdy English people when we see sentences like "I play alot better than my teammates." http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/2010/04/alot-is-better-than-you-at-everything.html
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