Let’s try something different. Let’s write through the bad times this time, shall we? Instead of what I usually do, which is hide under a rock.
Let’s see…where to begin…
Well. Let me begin by saying I am in the midst of a major depressive episode…unbeknownst to me until I kind-of lost my shit the other day. At work.
Funny, how the darkness creeps up on you, and slithers in to your soul, feeding upon you until you want to open your viscera to get it out. Those days when you ugly cry on the drive home from work and think about how easy it could be…just to swerve into oncoming traffic.
Yes. I have those days.
Actually, I AM having those days.
A lot, recently.
Funny…how so many people tell you “Oh, I understand what you’re going through,” and “If you need anything, just ask,” UNTIL you’re going through it (again) and you need something (again). And then?
Where are they?
Suddenly, they are nowhere to be found. Now, their nephew’s stubbed toe is the worst thing in the world and they don’t have time to “understand.” They don’t have time to “listen.”
Which, I suppose this is the reason I have a therapist. And medication.
I often wonder…what is the point of having anyone in your life if they can’t take one moment out of their busy life for you?
Then, of course, there are those who like to tell me how negative I am and how they can’t be around me when I’m negative. However, I am the person they come to with THEIR negative/upsetting/depressing life occurances (or with the upsetting consequences of some stupid action), and I listen. I always do. I am good at listening.
I suppose many people just can’t handle seeing someone at their worst. I suppose I can understand that. After all, to hear someone say they are considering hurting themselves IS probably quite disconcerting.
People don’t know how to react.
People say: “Don’t be so negative.”
People say: “Stop being so sad.”
People say: “If you’re unhappy here, go someplace where you are happy.”
PEOPLE. IT IS NOT THAT FUCKING SIMPLE.
I am negative because I suffer from a condition CALLED DEPRESSION.
I am sad because I suffer from a condition CALLED DEPRESSION.
I am unhappy because I suffer from a condition…say it with me now…CALLED DEPRESSION.
This is nothing that a positive outlook is going to suddenly change. It is nothing wearing a smile is going to change. It is nothing a new job, or a new car, or a fucking unicorn pony ride is going to change.
I’m not ASKING ANYONE to solve my problem (but hey, thanks for your alleged well-meaning bullshit advice).
What I am asking for is recognition that I have an ILLNESS.
Like cancer is an illness.
Like diabetes is an illness.
Like lupus is an illness.
You wouldn’t tell anyone with cancer “Don’t be so negative and stop being sad. If you’re unhappy, then GET HAPPY. If that cancer is making you sad, STOP HAVING CANCER.”
It doesn’t fucking work that way.
Don’t you realize that people like you are the reason people like me end up committing suicide?
Little by little, your flippant stance on mental illness sure does make a lot of people feel unimportant. And crazy.
I didn’t ask for this ‘illness,’ this ‘condition.’ And I sure as hell never asked to be treated like less of a human being because of it.
But, sadly, I am.
I am treated by others as though I am unstable. Someone to be fearful of. Someone to avoid.
Perhaps I am that person.
I am a pariah.