Depression lies.

Depression is a fucking rat-bastard asshole who lies. He tells you there is no hope, but he is wrong!

Two different people who are better writers than me, and way more internet-famous than I’ll ever be just wrote about this.
Read Jenny, The Bloggess‘s post HERE.
Read Geek King Wil Wheaton‘s post HERE.

One of the things that jumped out at me in Wil’s post was this:

I haven’t ever felt suicidal, but I do have Depression and Anxiety.

For many people, they assume that all depressed people are suicidal and if you’re not suicidal then you must not be depressed. This is not true! I have been depressed most of my life, if not all of it. I have never considered suicide. Have I wished I was dead at times? Yes. I was a teenager for seven years, after all. But even at the worst of my depression it never moved past “Things would be better if I just died.” to “I’d be better off dead and I’m going to do something about it.” or even “This thing I’m doing is stupid and dangerous, but I don’t care if I die.”

If depression was so straight forward it would be easy. Oh, I’m suddenly contemplating suicide? I’m depressed. I’m not contemplating suicide? I must be fine. But it’s not. There are a lot of symptoms and a lot of levels of severity.

I was diagnosed when I was 22 or 23. That was 20 years ago. I still have it. But now I own my life, not depression. I wish I could say it’s easy now, but it’s not. It is easier though, and some days that’s enough.

About three years ago the sneaky bastard crawled out of the ground, grabbed me, and dragged me down. For a year my world was getting darker and faded so gradually I didn’t see it. That’s the god damn sucky evil thing about depression. It’s sneaky. You think you’re fine, then it creeps in and slowly takes away the fine. And it’s gradual. You don’t know it’s there. Then one day you are talking to your therapist and realize that you’re depressed.

And it’s not just a little depression. Oh no. You’re stuck deep. Deeper than you’ve been in years. Worse than you’ve been in more than a fucking decade.

I had changed medications before it hit and things seemed to be a little better after the change, but now I think that may have been the combo of the new meds plus the old meds still in my system. By the end of the year, when I realized what was happening, I think I might as well have been completely unmedicated for all the little help my meds were. Two years ago I switched to a new medication, and things got better.

I spent some time kicking myself for being too dumb to realize that things were getting bad and that I was depressed. But that’s the bitch of depression. It’s just not easy. It was over the course of a year that I had been sinking into a pit of darkness and hopelessness and despair and didn’t even know it.

This post isn’t about pitying me for my depression. It’s about awareness, and hope. If you think you might possibly maybe be a tiny bit depressed, talk to your doctor. If you think you’re really severely depressed, talk to your doctor. They will talk to you and evaluate you. They can help, or refer you to someone who can help. If you are truly suffering from depression you need to know that things can be better, even though it doesn’t seem possible. One in four adults in the US suffers from a diagnosable mental illness. You are not alone.



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