Tolerance for Depressed People

I hate when people tell you to stop dwelling on the negative. (Don’t you think I would, if I could?) 

I understand that most “Normal” people can bounce back after having a down thought but NOT ME. It takes me hours to pull myself up and it insults me when you say stupid shit like that to me. “Cheer up” or “Just look on the bright side”. MY BRAIN CANNOT SEE A BRIGHT SIDE. 

Someone wrote on facebook “Why can’t some people just be happy?” I hardly know this person, but she’s a sweet girl. She meant no harm by writing this and I don’t know who it was directed at. However, it really hurt me. 

It’s this lack of understanding concerning depression that irritates me. It feels like the world lacks compassion for people who are so longing to be freed of this mental prison. They assume it’s a choice. Who would choose this? Would you really want to be so upset that you lost control of your own power and began hitting yourself? Bruising the skin? Sobbing until you can’t breathe? Fantasizing about things you shouldn’t?

If you’ve never been depressed, you may not understand. Depression is like when someone you love dies and over time you move on…

But everyday it feels as fresh as the moment you found out they passed away. Your life has changed forever and somehow the light in your life grows dim. You begin to reflect on all the bad things in your life at that moment because life doesn’t seem so great without that person. You can’t pull yourself up/out. You try to think of the positives in your life but they don’t even register as such anymore. They just seem like big obstacles of impossibility. Hopelessness sets in leading to despair. You begin to make an exit plan. Your mind doesn’t know how to function. You’re so confused, lost, sad, empty, alone…so you turn on yourself to feel anything. You cry -HARD. You punch your legs, slap your face and think of ways to leave this state of misery, for good. Eventually you calm down but you’re still not happy. You’re just drained. Emotionally. Physically. Mentally. You’re the shell of a human. Your heart still beats but you don’t know why. Somedays you think, it’ll be okay, but it always sneaks back in. These feelings of agony and you can’t control it. I can’t control it. 

I would love to be a wife. A mother. Employed. Getting a masters. These are my dreams. And when I’m depressed they all seem impossible because of setback after setback that wears me down. My brain can’t handle the setbacks anymore. I’ve been through a lot in this life. More than most white girls in America. 

So, I apologize for my attitude. If I could change myself, I would. How would you feel if I told you to just stop having cancer? It’d be pretty dickish, right?