I know you mean well. I know you are asking because you care. Maybe you think if there’s a clear reason, then you can help solve it. I appreciate you trying, but I don’t have an answer.
I wish it was simple and I could give you a concrete reason. I’ve been racking my brain relentlessly trying to figure it out. The more I’m questioned as to why I’m feeling this way, the more frustrated I am with myself that I don’t have an answer, and the more disgrace I feel that I don’t have a “good enough” reason for being depressed. In this moment, there is no solution, because the problem is not finite.
Sometimes it can be explained. Sometimes there’s a life-altering event or a string of restless nights. I could find a long list of things that are bothering me, a list of worries or fears that keep me up at night. Still, it wouldn’t explain it. It wouldn’t explain it because my life isn’t new and those worries are old.
I wish I had the answer. I wish I could explain why I woke up to a light that burnt out unexpectedly, to a numbness from my past that I didn’t think could return. I wish I could show you that my spirit is deteriorating with every passing day. I wish I could explain how I can feel myself disappearing, piece by piece into a bottomless hole. Every waking moment I feel as if I am clawing my way back to stable ground, trying to remember what it feels like to live and not just exist.
I wish I could express just how terrified I am, because the only feelings I have are suffocating me. My breath feels permanently trapped in my chest while I’m trapped in my mind.
I don’t know why I’m depressed right now, and I didn’t see it coming. When you’ve been depressed before, the fear that it will return always sits in the back of your mind, but you always hope you’re wrong. It’s disheartening to feel like you can’t rely on yourself to just live.
I don’t know how long it will last. I don’t know how long it will take me to regain my energy. I don’t know how long I will suffer through or not complete minimal tasks such as sending a text or brushing my hair. I don’t know how long I will have to convince myself it’s worth it to get out of bed.
What I do know is I have found myself in a depression I didn’t think I’d feel again, which also means I’ve overcome it before. If it’s possible for me to be depressed again, it’s possible for me to get out of it again.
I don’t know how long it will take me to get there, but in the meantime, please don’t ask me why I’m depressed. All I need is to be heard and loved. So please, just listen and love me through the darkness.