We Don't ACTUALLY Talk About Depression...

Ask someone and they would probably tell you that mental awareness has finally gotten the light that it deserves.

You hear people owning up to the fact that they are struggling with depression.

They may say they are on medication.

They may even say it has been a rough week and they have been really depressed.

But most people say they are depressed in the same way they would say they are sad.

Like it’s just this word to describe this emotion.

And so the word is said.

And so the word is heard.

And just like that, we think all is known and well in this world of mental illness (specifically depression).

But I think that’s where we are wrong.

So let’s try to shine a light on what depression can be…

(DISCLAIMER: not a perfect definition of depression. Differs for every person. Just some rather close to home examples.)

 . . . . .

Depression is that moment in a small group at church where everyone makes a prayer request and you just want to admit that the depression has been sucking the life out of your veins both physically and spiritually… but you choose to keep silent because it’s not worth mentioning and it sounds overdramatic.

Depression is wanting to talk to someone about this all-consuming hopelessness and sorrow in your heart but the closest friends to you have heard this about a hundred times and you are sure that one more time would finally push them over the edge. You can’t lose another friend to this.

Depression is declining an invitation to a social gathering because you honestly can’t imagine getting your mouth to turn even a bit upward into the smiling position and conversation is too much to even consider at the moment.

Depression is looking at your clock for the 10^th time this morning at 11am and though you tell yourself it would be a good idea to get up, you turn over in your bed because, after all, what point or reason is there to even make the effort?

Depression is having this sorrow in your chest that you can’t quite explain to your significant other so they pull and stretch and attempt to rip the truth out of you but even the greatest attempts cannot unravel this thickened word over your beating heart. So they think you don’t love them enough. They say you are sick. And you think they are right. But this fever has lasted a while. And it doesn’t seem to have a magical fix.

Depression is leaving the light on at night because your afraid that given the opportunity, the darkness might very well swallow you up.

Depression can live in the girl who seems to always smile and laugh at everything. If a persona is lived up to then everyone will believe all is well and won’t ask if she’s doing okay and so she won’t have to explain.

Depression is that guitar with an inch of dust. It used to be the daily therapy but you learned to just quit picking it up. You can only think of sad words to sing and no chords are coming to mind. Somehow this thing took away the magic of music too.

Depression is remembering that one moment in time. That time the world went still. That moment your heart wanted to give up. Sounds went silent. Mother crying. Doctors panicking. But you were peaceful. Death might not be so bad.

. . . . .

So until these things start being said. I don’t think depression has really been discussed and there hasn’t been much light shined on it.

There is still much darkness lingering and truths waiting to be shined upon.

So let’s keep talking.