I am 17 years old and I suffer with Major Recurrent Depression and have done for many years. However a lot of people, including those who know me in real life and even some of my family members do not know or understand what it is like to live with my condition. If you are easily triggered I don’t suggest you read this. I am writing this post to try and make the people who have trouble understanding, see what it is like from my point of view. This what not easy to write, but I do feel it was necessary. Please remember everyone experiences depression differently. This is just my story.
Major Recurrent Depression is considered the most severe and most difficult to treat condition out of all of the types of depression. The brain is an organ, and just like any other organ in your body it can get ill. It can malfunction just as much as any other organ and brain scans show that there is a big difference between a sick and healthy brain. So, the worst thing you can do is make someone feel as though they have to prove how sick they are. Saying things such as “I’d like to lay in bed all day too, but some of us have to work.” Thanks Dad, that is not helpful. Do not judge what you don’t understand, it makes us feel worse and we already fill ourselves with self criticism, you don’t need to do it too. What would you do if one day you woke up and we didn’t ?
Depression is not feeling a bit sad.
It is, however… not showering for a week, not going to work or school because you can’t face the world that day, it is having no concentration or focus, it is seeing no future for yourself because depression has stolen that chance to succeed from you. We have to battle with either insomnia or hypersomnia, over eating or undereating. We have red eyes and we throw up from crying so hysterically about the metaphorical dark bubble we are stuck in that we call life. We are ghosts with a heartbeat. Invisible to the world…irrelevant. We feel lost in the system of life and lose our ability to function as human beings. You lose friends and relationship, but you never feel as alone as you do when your crying on the floor in the middle of the night shaking and holding you knees to your chest because you no longer know who you are, or how to fix it.
Days out with friends turn into visits to doctors and psychotherapists. Sweets turn into pills. And you reach a point where you are drained. Have you ever been so isolated, so desperate to find a way to make it stop that you seriously start to consider the fact that if this is reality, you don’t want it anymore? You think about what you would leave behind, how it wouldn’t upset people. You fall asleep thinking about what to leave in your suicide letter, which mostly consists of apologies.
Your not looking for a happy ending anymore, you just want an end.
You research fast and easy ways out, because your mind keeps telling you that nobody would miss you anyway. Its not like your going to achieve anything in life if you can’t even pull yourself together to get out of bed. No-one will love you. You don’t deserve that. You are pathetic.
But we are obsessed with the fact that, isn’t it weird how all of a sudden, the bad feelings, the thoughts filling your mind with poison, the loud overwhelming struggles of your life could all just stop if you wanted it to? But if you think that suicide is selfish, you have obviously never been suicidal. But those thoughts were my life. I was ill for so long it became normal. I stopped living, I was purely surviving from one day to the next, never leaving the house. I believed my soul was already dead, I just needed my body to catch up. But not only that, I still had pressures from the real world. Unsupportive teachers and grades to keep up. Making it to school and being so proud just to have a group of boys shout “psycho” at you when you walk through the gates.
It is hard. Depression is not being sad. Depression is losing who you are and having every emotion, every purpose, every moment of enjoyment, gone. Because you have never known depression until you are sat on the front row of your granddads funeral, being the only person there who isn’t crying, because you have no more tears to give to the world.
Not every day is that bad, but for months at a time it can be. Be patient with us, we are comfortable with the idea that in a matter of seconds it is all too easy for us to become a memory.
My name is Em-See, I am 17 years old and I have Major Recurrent Depression. But I am still here, and I hope that you try your best to stay too.