“Why did you try to kill
yourself?” …………………………………. “You told me to be happy.”
I have asked people to tell me what their depression
feels like and I’ve heard things like: dark, empty, lonely, scary, exhausting,
bad, heavy, and more. When I asked a friend how his depression felt, he said, “Being
sad for no particular reason and not knowing how to fix it.” When I asked one
of my clients how her depression felt, she said, “I wouldn’t even call it a
feeling. It’s not a feeling because you feel nothing.” Nothingness, a black
hole, a never-ending pit, a vast cavern where hellacious voices echo. For the
past 29 years, for me, depression has been a roller coaster that, at times, has
delved into the fiery, darkness of hell where I saw nothing but death as a
solution. It feels like standing on the edge of the lip of the Grand Canyon,
trying not to fall over; and the balancing act is beyond exhausting –
physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.
But, everyone experiences depression differently. Depression
is expressed differently by each individual who experiences it. And ultimately,
most people find a way to overcome depression – whether through talk therapy,
medications, combination therapy, prayer, meditation, or other methods. The
goal is to identify one’s triggers and implement the healing process.
“Sometimes when I say ‘I’m okay,’
I want someone to look me in the eyes, hug me tight, and say, ‘I know you’re
not’.”
One of my favorite music artists, Eminem, puts it like this:
You smile
but you’re not really happy.
You ask
but you don’t want to know.
You talk but you aren’t saying
anything.
You laugh but you don’t find it
funny.
You cry but it doesn’t really mean
anything.
You get up but you’re really not
awake.
You sleep but you aren’t resting.
You’re alive but you aren’t really
living.
Depression is living in a body that fights to survive with a
mind that tries to die. Depression is a prison where you are both the suffering
prisoner and the cruel jailer. Depression is putting on a fake smile so you don’t
have to explain why you’re not happy. Depression is that feeling when you’re
not necessarily sad, but you just feel really empty. Depression is saying to
yourself, every night, “This will be the last time.” Depression is like a war;
you either win or die trying.
“Depression can seem worse than
terminal cancer because most cancer patients feel loved and have hope and
self-esteem.”
I hate to hear people say, “I suffer from depression.” To me, that is a defeatist attitude. I
have lived with depression for most
of my life. Depression can be caused by a chemical imbalance, extended grief,
trauma, job loss, retirement, being broke, and whatever else you can think of.
Depression is lonely. Depression is scary. Depression sucks. Depression does not discriminate by race,
creed, socioeconomic status, gender, age, or sexuality. One is not immune from
depression because of level of education, amount of money in the bank, marital
status, or length of time in therapy. Sometimes, it hits me out of nowhere, all
of a sudden, this overwhelming sadness rushes over me. I get discouraged and I
get upset and I feel hopeless, sad, and hurt. And once again, I feel numb to
the world. “But you’ve got it all,” people say, “a doctorate, a private
practice, two real careers, blah, blah, blah.” And yet, I continue to question
whether I have met my own “good enough.” Worse still, I question whether I have
met God’s expectations for me. Have I fulfilled my purpose?
“If you could read my mind, you’d
be in tears.”
Despite all that I have and all that I have accomplished,
depression can sometimes still consume me. My days get dark – just a constant
shade of gray. My medication doesn’t seem to be working. Therapy is starting to
sound like Charlie Browns’ teacher – “whah whah whah whah whah whah.” But,
every morning, I am met with the same choice – get up or not, go to work or
not, see clients or not, stay late to do notes or not, get rest for tomorrow or
give up, pray for another day or pray for death. Most people I’ve talked to,
admittedly, “don’t understand how a person can get to the point where they want
to take their own life.”
“Right now, I really don’t see
the reason for trying, or for talking, or for breathing. I’m just done.”
I think “not understanding” is actually a better place in
which to live because when you do understand “how a person can get to the point
where they want to take their own life,” you have seen the depth of despair.
You see, there are wounds that never show on the body that are deeper and more
hurtful than anything that bleeds. There have been times that I would rather be
a “cutter” than have suicidal ideations. How sad do you have to be for death to
really be a fucking option?! At what point will it no longer be on my list of
options? I’m exhausted from trying to be strong. I’m empty from giving
everything I have to others. I’m tired. I’m sad. I’m angry. I’m frustrated. I’m
disappointed. I’m unhappy. I’m scared, no, terrified. Because once again, I am
on the edge of the Grand Canyon, teetering on the edge; trying to keep my damn
balance so I don’t slip over the edge into the abyss. What most people don’t
understand is that when you have made the decision that death is the only
option, it doesn’t mean that you are no longer afraid. It simply means that you
are so tired of being hopeless, hurt, lonely, sad, disappointed, misunderstood,
and “not good enough” that you welcome the eternal silence. You breathe a sigh
of relief that you have found a way to end your suffering, to stop having to
depend on others to love you, to stop feeling like a failure, to stop hurting,
and to stop wishing that life would be better only to be disappointed
repeatedly. It’s a lonely, scary place to which you never want to take your “friends”
or “family.” It is that place in which the person who tries to keep everyone
happy ends up being the loneliest person.
“No, I’m not okay. But I haven’t
been okay since I was a teenager. I am still here though. I’m still breathing.
For me, sometimes, that will have to be enough.”
I no longer want to die – not like I did 26 years ago. I’m
not even asking for help. I’m just sharing with you, my readers, that even the
best of us go to that dark place. And even though I know that I want to love
this difficult life of mine, the thought still crosses my mnd after 29 years, that
I could just end it all and never have to feel lonely, inadequate, hurt, ashamed,
disappointed, or shitty ever again. I want, desperately, to believe that:
Depression is useful. It signals
that you need to make changes in your life. It challenges your tendency to
withdraw, it reminds you to take action.
No matter how deep my sadness or how hopeless my despair, I
pray that God will help me to sustain my strength as I face each new day.
