What depression feels like.

I want to start this blog off by saying that I get really tired of the stigma surrounding mental illness, particularly depression.  I've lost track of the number of times I've heard the line 'you're not depressed, you're just sad' or 'suck it up and stop feeling sorry for yourself'.'

I can't speak for everyone who has experienced depression, but I can speak for myself.  And in my own experience, depression is just so much more than 'feeling sad'.

For me it is like a tiredness.  But it is more than just the physical signs of fatigue, this is a weariness that goes right to the very heart of me, to the point where summoning up the energy to express any emotion, happiness, mirth, anger, anything is just too much effort.  I stagger through the day in a sort of numb haze, feeling oddly disconnected from whatever is happening around me.

But, beneath the numbness, everything is seething.  I feel tense, anxious, angry and like I just want to scream and scream until my throat is raw.  And then when that's done, I want to curl into a ball and cry and cry until my body simply withers.

I want to be surrounded by loved ones, but at the same time I just want to be left alone to wallow because I don't want my mood to become a burden or someone else's problem.

I want to be supported, but I'm scared of reaching for it due to the number of times I've been negatively treated in the past, that the support I so desperately needed from those closest to me was denied.

The worst comment is; "You're still up and doing stuff, so it can't be that bad."

Well, to that comment, I'd like to offer a sincere 'fuck you'.

I have a 2 year old daughter.  She depends on me to ensure her needs are met.  Depression doesn't give a rats ass that the laundry needs to be done.  Or the grocery shopping.  Or any of the myriad other chores that keep a household running.  But fortunately I care.  Because if I don't do the laundry my daughter won't have clean clothes to wear, if I don't do the groceries, she won't have food to eat.  And the last thing I want is for my child to suffer from cold or hunger because of what is essentially my problem.  That overriding sense of responsibility is sometimes the only thing that can get me out of bed when I'm in a depressive spiral.

Having said that though, the sense of responsibility does absolutely nothing to help the depression.  It's like throwing a poster over a huge hole in the wall.  Though the poster covers it up so you can't see it, the hole is still there.  And the moment the poster is damaged, that hole becomes glaringly obvious again.

So just because I seem 'functional' does not mean that I am coping.

Some days, all you can do is try your best to just make it till the end of the day.

Even if it means letting your child watch TV on a loop so you can grab five minutes of peace.

Even if it means locking yourself in the bathroom and crying for those five minutes.

Some days are better.  Some days you're not as tired and you can find the joy in the simple things, such as cuddling your daughter or listening to her laugh.

But mostly, all you can do is take things one day at a time.