WHAT DEPRESSION FEELS LIKE
Imagine a cold, sad, cooked spaghetti noodle lying lifeless on the floor, it’s feeling like that.
It’s living in a reality completely separate from what is actually happening.
It’s feeling like our sad emotions and depressive state have dug a hole so deep inside of us that we might not ever get out.
Like being at a pool party and everyone is up on the deck laughing, engaging, and enjoying the party. But you are in the pool, immersed underwater. Struggling to breathe, to move, to engage. You can see everything that’s happening up above, but that doesn’t change that you’re in the pool.
It’s waking up from a full night's rest and still feeling EXHAUSTED.
It’s when any sort of plans sound like too much work, even if they are activities you love.
It’s feeling numb to what’s happening around you.
Depression ebbs and flows like an ocean wave flirting with the shore. Pulling back, swelling up, and crashing back into us when we least expect it.
It feels like when you hold your breath for awhile and your chest gets tight and heavy.
Sometimes it’s like looking around at a life that is good, maybe even great, and not being able to rationalize why you are feeling the way you are.
It’s being convinced something is wrong with you, that you are broken and utterly unfixable. And that belief swirling around obsessively in your head every couple of minutes or so.
It’s putting on a full set of makeup and realizing that no amount of expensive cosmetics is going to hid the sad in your eyes.
It feels like having to dig deep every day to do normal tasks, like brush your hair or text someone back.
I wrote this for the loved ones that are struggling to understand what depression feels like. The ones who find themselves confused and sympathetic. But mostly confused. I hope this helps.
I also wrote this for my brothers and sisters who don’t need this list to understand, but are desperately trying to find verbiage to let their loved ones in. YOU ARE GOING TO BE OKAY. I know it doesn’t feel like it right now. I know you want to pitch a tent in your living room and eat oreos and rewatch every season of The Office...but I’ll hold onto all the hope you can’t right now. As long as you hold onto the hope for me when I can’t. I love you. I’ll come with some double-stuffed right now if you want. We’ll ride this wave until we reach the shore again.