Depression is an illness, not a weakness; it is a multi-faceted condition, not a mere feeling…
depression is sleepless nights and sleep-filled days. it is yearning to escape to the world of dreams, yet being pursued even there. it is the non-verbalized hope to simply not wake, once sleep can be found. it is pushing the ‘snooze’ button repeatedly; not to get enough sleep, but to not have to face the day. it is hiding underneath the pillow, with no hope of finding the will there, either. it is the subtle realization that, although sleep cures nothing, it passes the time with the most minimal effort.
depression is feigned smiles and laughter, when interaction with others is a necessity. it is 47 unanswered voicemail messages, 183 unanswered emails. it is not remembering the last time being ‘social’ was fun. it is wondering how human companionship was once not an exhausting chore. it is excuses, lies, and apologies to friends and relatives. it is sheer isolation.
depression is self-loathing, self-denial, self-deprecation, self-hostility. it is seeing no self-redeeming qualities whatsoever. it is cruelty to the mind, body, and spirit. it is the conclusion that failure is always just around the corner, if not now. it is being weighed, measured, and found severely lacking.
depression is the abandonment of purpose. it is wandering; listless, ambition-less, destination-less. it scoffs at the idea of god, gods, goddess, or goddesses; of any sort of higher power, that might help bring meaning to life again. it is the sucking out of the soul.
depression is not eating a meal for weeks, as cooking requires too much effort. it is eating without consciousness, as though the food will fill the gaping hole inside. it is wandering the aisles of the grocery store looking for comfort rather than nourishment. it is not having any sustenance in the house at all, because walking those aisles was simply too daunting. it is both gaining and losing too much.
depression is going away inside. it is simply going through the motions. it is warnings at work, admonishments from friends, talks from parents. it is hearing ‘snap out of it,’ and, ‘you need to do better.’ it is advice from people who have never and will likely never know; it is ‘exercise, eat right, clean, get out and do things!’ it is behind-the-back whispers of past achievements, past good times, and the ever-present quip, ‘whatever happened…’
depression is a quest with no will; an attempt with no motivation to find the cure. it is big pharma; it is a plethora of pills. it is doctors, therapists, shrinks. it is guinea pig experimentation. it is endless appointments, assessments, evaluations. it is trying to try, when there is no ‘do’ to be had, and when the ‘experts’ don’t seem to have a clue either.
depression is a bottle, a knife, a cigarette, a flame. it is half-hearted attempts to re-create feeling; feeling anything but what is currently felt. it is the slow realization that death is, indeed, a possible end result. it is the constant battle against the unseen, the unknown, with few weapons. it is fear, it is panic, it is shame, it is desperation.
Depression is an illness, not a weakness.