I’ve heard depression described as many things, from a rain cloud that constantly follows you around to the darkest of winters. I find it difficult to personify my depression. However, I do know that it permeates every fibre of your being. It touches your emotions, your actions, and it is always present. My depression lives inside of me and is everywhere I go.
It’s difficult to describe depression to someone who’s never been there, because it’s not sadness. I know sadness. Sadness is to cry and to feel. But it’s that cold absence of feeling – that really hollowed out feeling.
I was told once by a psychologist after completing some personality questionnaires that my depression is more than just an emotion I feel; it is so ingrained within me that it has become a part of my personality, melancholy was my go-to emotion. I assumed this was true of everyone with depression, but apparently this is not the case.
It is for this reason that I really hate to hear people say ‘your depression doesn’t define you’ and ‘it’s just a small part of who you are’ because that belittles it. It undermines it and it takes away the true weight that depression has.
You can’t pay enough money to cure that feeling of being broken and confused. It’s not like every day’s been great ever since. You have good days and bad days, and depression’s something that, y’know, is always with you
Depression has clouded my judgements and my memories for the past ten years, it has affected every friendship and relationship to one extent or another, it has caused break-ups and good byes, and stories i’d rather forget.
However, I couldn’t honestly say that it doesn’t define me. Because to an extent it kind of does, and that’s unfortunate but it’s okay, I have come to terms with that.