Uncovering Depression

“I don’t want to see anyone. I lie in the bedroom with the curtains drawn and nothingness washing over me like a sluggish wave. Whatever is happening to me is my own fault. I have done something wrong, something so huge I can’t even see it, something that’s drowning me. I am inadequate and stupid, without worth. I might as well be dead.” – Margaret Atwood

 

Hi there on this Solemnity of Corpus Christi and Father’s Day,

Maybe what I am about to write about is just yet another one of my quirks which make relating to the living so difficult. I know when I am depressed I am difficult to “deal with.” I am irritable, lifeless, a hopeless cause and just taking up space under bedcovers during the day when the world goes on outside my window.

This weekend has been one such time where depression sucked me into its quicksand, and no matter how hard I tried to fight the thoughts or the crushing wave of intense feelings I lost the battle. I slept, barely got out of bed, only enough to minimally interact with the world and fell far into the shelter of nothingness.

It’s difficult to explain why I felt this way, but maybe you may have some ideas how I can prevent another episode. It all started with a beautifully real intense book I read which displayed vulnerability, humanity at its worst and the outcomes of pain. The author is not amazing for what she overcame, but rather for putting words to her experiences. She deftly put words to my feelings of hunger, feelings of wanting to disappear but to be noticed all at the same time. I certainly will be blogging my thoughts in a future entry, but oh my!! Words are powerful. We as humans are powerful beyond our realizations. Our words, our expressions, our actions and reactions can unknowingly impact another for good or ill. Please, whatever you do, everyday offer someone a smile, a kind word, give a friend a hug, an authentic encouraging word because sadly humanity can be so overwhelmingly savage and cruel.

This is what pulled me into the vortex of depression. Feeling the author’s pain, comprehending the superficiality of our culture and as these feelings and thoughts crashed over me like a tidal wave, I could not bear to fight feelings of sadness, hopelessness, and despair. I don’t know how tomorrow will go, but I will put on my mask of “I am not depressed” and keep on keeping on and will “fake it till I make it.”

Until next time,

Anjelina

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