How To Be Depressed

Flickr / swolfe
Flickr / swolfe

This is almost becoming a routine by now, you spend you don’t know how long tossing and turning trying to get to sleep, trying to finally end the endless cycle of thoughts that pour through your head just for this. Sometimes you wake up in a cold sweat sometimes you don’t, sometimes you wake up screaming or sobbing, actually that sometimes feels more like all the time. Dreams you never seem to be able to recall, but this isn’t a dream. It’s never the same in the beginning but the end is unmistakable and haunting.

You tell yourself everybody in life faces events that change them for the better and makes them a stronger person, but you aren’t most people and you can’t shake what happened to you. You try to rationalize what is happening to you and why it continues, but you can’t. Endless research and reading has done nothing to answer your questions. You may even pray for this to go away. You ask for once to just be able to be happy and not have this dark cloud hover over you. The answer you wait for, that freedom you long for, the ability and strength to stop being what you have become always ends up being the same answer, silence. For some this is too much, for others this has just simply become life. You tell yourself this isn’t the end of the road but that doesn’t stop you from thinking it might be.

Some people drink the pain away, some people take drugs, others hurt themselves. You might try it all to no avail. Your friends are supportive in the beginning but even they tire of you. You begin to question why some even stay around. You tell yourself you aren’t the friend they deserve. The endless cycle of thoughts tells you if you die no one will come to your funeral, some might not even care. You brought this on yourself after all you shouldn’t be their cross to bear. You think of all the horrible things you’ve done in your life. Is this the reason everything is happening to you? Some sort of cosmic Karma? You listen to songs like “Dirty Life and Times” by Warren Zevon and believe the lyrics “Now they’ll hunt me down and hang me for crimes, If they learn about my Dirty Life and Times”. Most people listen to happy songs but you never seem to be able to, every song dealing with loss, relationships or death has turned into a personification of what you are and you relate to every message.

Is there medication strong enough to help you deal with what is happening to you? Hell, who knows, you think about seeing a doctor but that isn’t who you are. Your friends and family after a while all seem to suggest the same thing. Go out? What do they mean? How can anyone go out and have fun with this burden? Sleep. Yes, sleep that’s what you need, that is what is going to help you more than anything. You try to evaluate every single thing you do but everyone keeps telling you you’re over thinking things. What the hell does be spontaneous even mean? How can anyone be spontaneous when the thought of leaving the house scares you? You get out almost every day when you go to work isn’t that good enough? Jesus, when will all these pointless questions end?

They don’t, for all you know they never will. This is it; this is the life you should be prepared to live. You watch the news; you want to attempt to have a clue as to what’s going on in the world around without actually having to take part in it. You become numb to everything you see or hear. You hear about children who can’t take it anymore and kill themselves, at first you feel bad for them and for their families but deep down you envy them. Jesus, did you really just think that? Yeah, yeah you did. You cry. You cry some more. Actually this seems to be all you do anymore. What are you, who are you? Why can’t anyone leave you alone and let you live what you call a life? More questions and thoughts abound dragging you deeper and deeper into the pit that has now become your soul.

This can either end as another tragic story on the local news or it can become another story of triumph. No one ever wants to face their fears or deal with the demons that haunt them. In end John Donne was right when he wrote:

No man is an island, entire of itself. Each is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less. As well as if a promontory were. As well as if a manor of thine own or of thine friend’s were. Each man’s death diminishes me, for I am involved in mankind. Therefore, send not to know for whom the bell tolls, it tolls for thee.

Depression affects an estimated 19 million adults in the United States today. Websites like WebMD offer answers to questions you may have if you think you have depression. If you do have any questions visit the site here. The Depression and Bipolar Alliance also offer this helpline if you need someone to talk to 1-800-784-2433. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

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