Depression is not an easy thing to deal with. There are such highs and lows that come with the daily struggle to stay balanced. Sometimes weeks go by and everything is so even, right on track, comfortable and balanced. Then all of a sudden the slightest thing can invite depression right back.
I look back and realize I have been depressed since I was a child. The feeling of just wanting to give up and feeling worthless. I remember listening to the radio and crying at certain songs. A song that sticks out is Broken Wings by Mister Mister, but that is just one of several. As an adult and being able to understand the depth of pain I felt at such a young age it truly saddens me. I never talk about it, I buried it and did the proverbial sweeping it under the rug. I thought I was normal, that everyone was sad. I thought everyone felt like they didn’t deserve to live when they were 10. I had no clue that I actually should have talked about it. I look back also and realize how unstable my childhood was for a while until my grandparents had custody of me. A child is so fragile, so vunerable, and such a sponge to all that goes on around them, and I saw and felt things that a child should never see or have to feel.
As a adolecent suicide was on my mind but I knew better than to do that. I was too chicken to do it, and I knew it would effect people I didn’t want to effect. My younger sisters in particular. I then learned how to handle it and push it down and write, whenever I was upset I would write. That is what helped me, I have jorunals from 6th grade till today. So my journal in essence was my thearpist.
I remember when I lived in Orlando and stood in the kitchen with a scalding hot knife in my hand and I just dropped it on the counter and sat on the floor and cried. I then decided to self diagonse myself on the internet and back then what I found was I have dysthemic disorder. Which is where you feel like everything is fine and then you just sink into depression and snap right back out.
I have not actually spoken to a therapist or pyschologist about it, and I really don’t think I want to. I would rather handle it on own without medication and I have plenty of therapists disguised as my friends.
I had a hard time writing this because it is very personal, and very controversial. I decided to write it because it was begging to be written. I used to feel like depression was something to look down on. I thought people would look at me like I was odd. Now I have come to the realization that there comes a time when you stop caring about what other people think and do what is healthy and best for you.