The Darkness of Depression: Learning to make myself a priority
This post is all about what it feels like to be a high-functioning depressed human-being.
Depression:
It’s something that many of us have and cope with daily. There are even days where it feels like you have it all together and maybe, just maybe, you might not be as depressed as you thought you were. Then there are days where it feels like the exact opposite. Like your whole world is and has been complete shit, but there you are existing, and drowning in what feels like a never-ending pool of disparity. The worst part is that when you’re feeling this way, chances are the rest of the world has no idea. You wake up every morning and reluctantly peel yourself out of bed, go to work, and put on your ‘good face’ and smile so people don’t pry too much. Mostly because sometimes it’s too hard to even put into words what’s plaguing you and causing you so much pain.
I recognized that I spent the vast majority of 2019 in that space. One where I put on a brave face and just did it, whatever ‘it’ was. I was depressed but I couldn’t put into words all that was sitting on my heart and causing it to ache so tirelessly. I felt stagnant, I felt like everything that I created was forced. Like I was just doing it, so people didn’t check-in and see if everything was alright. I knew I was one “are you okay?” away from crying my eyes out and falling into a deeper depression. For me, this year was the most time I have ever spent in my working life, not really working. Not having a crazy schedule where I had little to no time to myself, and honestly, it was terrifying. I had never been so still in my life. It felt like my life was ending and that I was slipping into a dark depressive state with little chances of getting out. I spent MONTHS reworking my resumé and sending it out, only to hear nothing back from ANYWHERE.
The irony in all of this is that I asked for this space. I asked specifically and last year, intentionally for this moment of pause. I just hadn’t anticipated that it would be this slow. I hadn’t prepared myself for the days, weeks, and months alone. Alone, alone too. For the first time, I couldn’t fall back on a partner to distract me from the depression or to provide a manic high that I could make “endless” and believe me, I certainly tried. It didn’t work this time around though and it’s because it wasn’t supposed to. The months I spent distracting myself with someone else gave me a moment to pause and not focus on my own shit and what I had to work through. It didn’t give me a full feeling though. I still felt empty and it was because I hadn’t dealt with certain voids that had been left in childhood. I still hadn’t dealt with or acknowledged how my childhood traumas were affecting my present and day to day life. I had always felt like my life was going to be better if I put them aside and just moved forward despite the ache and pain I felt. So, to be in a space where I had no choice but to stare and deal with the shit that has been brewing for 20 years has been difficult, to say the least.
Sure enough, that feeling of defeat and inferiority crept its ugly head up. Here it was, I just KNEW I had it all figured out. I just KNEW I was practicing my ‘best’ self-care methods, but the reality was the opposite. I was still manic. I was still making the more irresponsible decisions when it came to self-care, because time and time again, I was still playing the avoidance game. I was collecting items and shopping for random shit that I didn’t need, but it just felt like it would “complete” my bedroom’s aesthetic. All the while, there was no damn aesthetic. My bedroom was a mess. It was overflowing with junk, and it was a reflection of all of the shit that was going on in my head. I was hiding things in places instead of actually cleaning up and purging, and shocker, that’s exactly what I had done with all of my disappointments, traumas, and “not so great” feelings about myself. I had been compartmentalizing them and moving onto the next thing. I wasn’t ready to sit and unpack them yet, and I had to ask myself why?
Do you know how depressing it is to realize that you’re so accustomed to trauma and disappointment that you don’t know how to live without them? If you do, I feel for you, and if not, whew, lucky you! It’s a scary and shitty thought to realize that you’re addicted to trauma, not because you truly want to be, but because it’s been such a staple part of your life that you almost don’t know how to function properly without it. That was it for me. It was this hackneyed feeling but for some reason, I wasn’t ready to let it go yet. I was scared of what life would be like without it. I had been living in a space where my traumas borderline defined my life. They shaped a lot of the way that I am, and I had sort of felt like if I wasn’t leading with them, then I wasn’t being true to myself or authentic in my story, and that’s just not true.
It’s really hard to peel your traumas off of you and not lose yourself. Though, the idea is to actually let go of that part of you. You can acknowledge and honor your experiences with trauma without letting them dictate the rest of your life. It’s not easy and I can’t say that I’ve figured it all out yet, because I haven’t. I’m still working on it. I’m learning how to not lead with or expect that everyone and everything is destined to lead to some grave disappointment. I also started to unpack my shit, both literally and mentally. I swallowed my fears and started cleaning and purging my living space, and then eventually, my mental space as well. Sitting in stillness forced me to. One day I woke up and was so painfully overwhelmed that I didn’t do anything. Not a single thing. I didn’t eat. I didn’t shower. I just slept. I slept and slept and slept. I scrolled. I wallowed in my despair, and I cried. I probably cried every day that week and when I finally felt strong enough, I started to clean my room. Little by little, area by area. I did some laundry, and I started to purge. I hit a depressive cycle again, in the midst of it all, but I didn’t fall. I wavered and felt weak at times, but it wasn’t as bad as it had been before. My room got chaotic and messy again during that time period, but it wasn’t as overwhelmingly bad as it had been in past times. So, when I was ready, I started to clean again. I had started the process of getting rid of what was unnecessary and created space and places for my items. When I was younger my dad would help me clean up and as we cleaned would remind me, there’s a place for everything, and when you’re done everything belongs in its place. I had grown up and resented that phrase but as I got older, I realized what he meant, and why he said it. So, with my newfound spaces and places, there could be order again. The feeling of satisfaction and peace that it brought me was restorative.
When you are ready, set aside some time, to clear out your spaces, both physical and mental ones. Create a routine and space that makes you happy. There are so many times where we don’t honor our own mental and physical needs and desires because we feel like it’s wrong to put ourselves first, and I’m here to tell you that’s not true. Your needs have to come first and you have to sit in the stillness to figure out what those needs are in the first place. You don’t have to set yourself up for discomfort because of someone else’s needs either. It is your responsibility to take care of your wellbeing and that sometimes means telling our loved ones ‘no’ or ‘I can’t’. You don’t have to feel guilty for it either. It is not your responsibility, duty, or obligation to break yourself into a million little pieces trying to overextend and give more than you can, to ANYONE.
Remember to honor your heart and your feelings first. Work through the trauma. Let yourself cry. Let yourself scream. Let yourself be angry. Let all of those feelings run through your body, and when you’re done, move forward. Move forward with the knowledge that you gave yourself the best love you have to offer, and you are continuing to do so as you grow. Take your time. Move at your own pace. Take a break if you need to, but don’t stop and stay stagnant forever. Get back out there and live your life.