** The following is a guest post written by my wife**
It’s such a part of who I am and the course of my life, yet I’ve struggled to ever really discuss it with anybody aside from my therapists and maybe a few of my family members. Even then, I’m not sure I’ve ever really, openly discussed all the intricacies of my depression. It is difficult for me to completely explain the seemingly unexplainable. I’ve been plagued with a feeling of toxic perfectionism that doesn’t allow me to be vulnerable in letting others know that I may not lead a near-perfect life. Yet, as I’ve had loved ones seek to understand my condition, and others that suffer through depression around me seek someone to empathize with them, I’ve tried to bring myself to do it. Bit by bit, I’ve opened up. Sometimes in frustration, I just want to sum it up as “if you know, you know” and call it good. But that is not enough. Individuals, family members, institutions, others with depression need to know.
So what does it really feel like? There’s no good, singular answer. I’ve labored over the answer to this question many times. For me, it is not a weight laying heavily on me. I don’t feel like the people in the commercials that have a dark rain cloud following over their head wherever they go. If I do feel glimpses of emotion, they are always lined with sadness and exhaustion. Most of the time though, it’s a feeling of nothing. Absolutely nothing. Emptiness. Darkness. Sometimes I cope by being super goofy so that I don’t have to feel nothingness for just a moment. It can be napping literally all day because, even with the guilt and self-loathing that comes with wasting an entire day, it’s better than facing that feeling of not feeling. And when I can get up, any attempt I make at getting anything done is overwhelmed by an extreme inability to focus on anything.
My dad could always see when I was going through really bad depression. He said I never actually looked sad. In fact, I just looked dead behind the eyes. He said that out of sadness for me and with love. It came somewhat close to describing how I felt, or rather didn’t feel, in those times. Eventually, when you’re in the midst of a depressive episode, you begin to convince yourself that this is the new you. You will never be successful again. You will be a burden and failure for the rest of your life. I was very lucky to never feel like I wanted to end my life but, with feelings like that, it isn’t difficult for me to see how people get there.
So why don’t you just get up? Go on a hike, play a game, talk to someone, you’ll feel better.
While all of those suggestions can help, they often served as a constant reminder that I couldn’t even manage the most basic methods of self-care. It made me feel that people would never really understand. I continue to wonder why people really need to understand how it feels. I ask, can you still support me and sympathize with me even if you can’t understand? While that seems like a fair compromise, I still think I can try to help others get a glimpse of my perspective. We can meet in the middle.
My message to loved ones wondering what they did wrong: You’ve done nothing to cause this. Even I’ve done nothing to cause this. Do not burden yourself with the feeling that you could have done something to stop me from having depression. What you can do is love. Sometimes that means lowering expectations for a while. Sometimes that means just learning to listen instead of feeling like you must come up with the solution. Sometimes that means you’re only able to say, “I love you and I want you here.”
There is such a lack of support for mental health institutionally that I wouldn’t even attempt to address it in depth. But as each of us listen more and learn more we can be a solution. I remember in the worst of my depression I had to withdraw from an entire semester at Arizona State University. It was such a difficult process to navigate even if I had been fully healthy. You had to jump through numerous hoops, get that documentation, speak to this person, go here and there. I’m not sure I would have been able to do it without my parents there and some semblance of functionality. Even though I was privileged enough to get treated by a medical professional and continue to graduation, I’ll always have a “withdrawal” on my transcript. I felt pain and guilt about that for a long time. We need to understand better.
While my depression has been well controlled for years now, it’s never truly gone. It can sneak in when I least expect it. I make sure to take my medication daily and be mindful of triggers and warning signs. I try to be vocal with my husband when I feel it creeping in. It causes me sometimes paralyzing fear. I’m sometimes afraid to do things I would like to do because I’m not sure when is the next time it will hit hard. I’m hesitant to take steps in my career, steps in building a family, and to make big commitments. I’ve had to learn how to continue with life without limiting myself. But I also must know when it’s time to take a step back and to accept that it’s okay that I don’t feel okay.
A bout with depression is something that comes and goes. Sometimes it’s here for a few weeks, sometimes for years at a time. Maybe it will come back tomorrow or in 5 years. I don’t know. The only thing I know is that the pain we feel with depression is temporary. When I think of eternity, I know I’m capable of living past this painful moment. I’ve done it before and I will continue to do so. I can consider it a blessing that through my Savior, Jesus Christ, and my understanding of the Plan of Salvation, my depression has taught me how to truly persevere.
No Coincidences 