A depressed wimpy kid's note 🕘 история названий (1)

I never know how to explain depression to someone. It’s so different for everyone and comes in so many different forms. Some people describe their depression as a weight that holds them down, ever-present and demanding of their time. Others describe it as a shadow that looms in the back of your mind, always taunting and jabbing and trying to tear you down. Some days, you just have thicker skin. And then sometimes, depression is described like drowning. It’s wading in an ocean of poison and barely catching your breath before you’re dragged back under.  I am always fighting this constant battle with myself. I may smile and laugh and seem happy, but know that, somewhere, in the back of my mind I'm struggling. The happy interludes, the in-between where the weight doesn’t feel as heavy, are simply vacations from the reality that is my depression. It makes me feel like a failure, no matter my successes. I feel worthless and like I’m a burden on everyone around me. That life isn’t beating me, no way. I’m too stubborn for that. I have to pretend that there isn’t some rabid animal inside of me, clawing to get its grip around my throat and snuff out my life.  People who don’t have depression don’t understand. But they can still be there for people like me. When they say something that scares you, don’t yell. Don’t get angry because you don’t comprehend how their mind works. My mind is a scary place. I shouldn’t need to open up and spill my darkness for your compassion.

I don’t think people understand that depression is constant. Some days it doesn’t feel as heavy, it doesn't tug and pull as hard. And other days, it knocks you down before you can even get out of bed.

My depression is a beast that lives inside me. It whispers horrible things in my ear, tells me that I am waste of space. And all the while, I have to smile and pretend I’m okay.

#2 The fact that I get emotional easily and feel things strongly does not make me weak. Never make that mistake. Imagine that you have lived for 20 years often experiencing the sort of feelings of upset that others may have felt only once or twice in a lifetime. This is not bipolar or BPD. I know this. This is me – an emotional soul. A soul that will love you unconditionally and care for you more than anything , that will seriously appreciate what you may see as the smallest of things, a soul that wishes for your happiness and will try to do anything to help to achieve it. In return, I don't need you to solve any problems for me or dry my tears even. Just understand that they will come and they will go, and being with me through them would be awesome if you could but if not just walk away and come back. I manage much of this by taking some time out to workout or walk and I can start these activities being very fed up with something because of overthinking and ending realising that I am being unreasonable or in fact totally wrong! I shut down at these times and if I am with you and doing this then I am doing it to protect you and me from the meltdown and I am so sorry if it hurts you. At 20, this is something that is likely to change. I am not sure that I want it to in many ways. I will take the rough with the smooth and hopefully surround myself with people that are able to cherish both aspects. If you are not able to, then I don't see this as a reflection on you in any way. I am much more likely to reflect on myself and consider what changes I can make. But at the end of the day, I will do whatever I can to make you happy if you are in my life. I can't change those intrinsic bits. They are me. If I lose the pain then I may not love and care about those around me in the same way. This is the way my depression effects my life and I just want to explain a little to start with. Thank you for reading.

#1 Hi. This is me. I am 20, was university student till i dropped out, an artist, love to workout, I like drawing, outdoorsy boy and emotional! I mention this one last because it is what I want to talk about today. I had a diagnosis of anxiety and depression. But to me, it is more that I am emotional! I feel things hard and this can be amazing or it can be horrendous. When I am happy, which is generally the majority of the time, it is amazing. I love with all of my heart and I enjoy and appreciate what may seem like the smallest of things. Offering to workout with me at the gym will get an excited response or offering out for walk idk smtn. I listen to every word people say and am constantly trying to think about little things I can do that, I hope, will make others smile. I have so much love to give and I willingly give it away without saving too much for myself. Then there is the flip side. Things that others may think is not upsetting may make me angry or will get pushy. Unfortunately, being angry is not something I can always prevent, however hard I try. The key is to know this. Tears are not a reflection on those around me. If you say something and I get upset, then first of all, you matter a hell of a lot to me! Secondly, I don't need you to do anything about it. I would never want you to feel bad. If you can, then sit with me at peace and wait it out. When I stop, I will be able to explain to you what has happened in my head. It is not for attention or to try to change what you are saying, in fact that is the furthest thing from what is happening in my head. I am also not going to totally lose it, in fact the tears generally help me to pull it all back together. It is water falling from my eyes that often helps me to reason things out eventually. The confusing bit is that it may not even be something recent that has upset me. It could be my head replaying some negative feeling that I have experienced. It could be worse because I am tired or hungry. It could be a general anxiety thing about something to come... or it may be because I am worried that I have upset someone.

It’s in these moments when the facade slips and those emotions I suppressed flood to the surface. My rational brain tries to find logic in my sadness and battles to restore order to my emotionally ravaged heart. I fall apart briefly. That is the way wars go. Somedays progress is made, other days it looks hopeless. Nobody knows who has won until it’s over. Somedays I don't think it will ever be over. It doesn't matter whether I am winning or losing, it’s the fact I am still fighting that really matters. Surviving comes first, that is why I get up every day. And by continuing to fight there is hope. I may never defeat depression but I will find a way to keep it in its place. Beneath me, in the dirt where it belongs. From there I will stop surviving and start living. That is the hope; maybe that is all I need.

Today I woke up and for a moment I lay still, staring at the ceiling. I lay there and felt my chest rise and fall as I breathed. It took all my will power to keep my focus on my breath, a mindfulness technique I have been taught. I did this for 30 seconds, maybe a minute, as i lay down in my bed.. . I was lying there, trying to keep my focus off the one thing that has dominated my thoughts recently. The dark, dismal feelings that have clawed their way into my life and that bring with them the thoughts that I just can’t go on anymore. These thoughts bring with them tears and heartbreak and they make living a normal life more and more difficult.

Ah depression and anxiety, my two controversial friends that have placed me in a non-consensual three-way relationship which is often very difficult to deal with. I can wake up some days and feel like I’m ready to take on anything. But on one side of the bed, I’ll have my anxiety badgering me about the million and one things that will go wrong today. And on the other side of the bed, my depression will remind me about the social event that I’ll be taking part in later that evening and casually reminding me that no matter how confident I’ll appear to be, that the people I think that love me in fact don’t, they’d rather I not be there, and that I’m weak and eventually push everyone I love away from me. And then I get up and get on with my day, after crying on my pillow, and admitting defeat. Some would call me over-emotional. Some will tell me, and have told me before, to simply move past my problems and carry on. Some people just don’t understand how you can’t just put the thing that’s worrying you, or dragging you down, in the bin and never look back. Sometimes I am able to do this, and I feel better. But when I can’t, please understand that it’s not that I don’t want to feel happy or stop my brain racing. Believe me, if I could do it all the time, I would. But I am constantly battling my anxiety and depression, and sometimes they win, and it can be hard to control. Imagine playing your favourite video game and you have the controller, but sometimes, the controls will bug out, not work like they should, and it starts ruining your game. That is what my anxiety and depression feel like to me. I don’t blame people that don’t understand my anxiety and depression, I really don’t. From an outsider looking in, it may just look like I’m over-reacting, that I’m dramatic and attention seeking. I’m very aware of what it may look like, but I promise it is not that. I take antidepressants to help keep my anxiety and depression on the low-down, but that doesn’t mean that I am ‘cured’. It also doesn’t mean that I am sick, or that I can’t be like anyone else, do things that everyone else can and live a relatively normal life. Because I can. I just occasionally put my training wheels back on when I feel like I need them. I don’t need you to tell me to ‘stop worrying’ because I will always worry, even if my face and body language says otherwise. I sometimes need that reassurance that everything is ok, that I am loved, and that you won’t leave me when I need you the most, even if in the depths of my brain, my depression is telling me it’s not true. But I also don’t need you to be afraid of me, because underneath the dark cloud that my anxiety and depression form, there’s a normal human being who wants to be loved, is kind, understanding, has a sense of humour (or so I’d like to think) and always tries to put a smile on her face and on other people’s, even if it feels like I’m losing my battle. Today has been a day where my anxiety and depression defeated me but writing this is my way of taking back control. It is temporary, and I have accepted that, but I’ll bounce back because I always do😏.

I've been suffering from depression for years now, and depression has a way of replacing your confidence with pure anxiety and self-hatred.  The scariest thing I found about suffering from a mental illness is the effect it has on every aspect of your life; it’s not just what’s inside your head. For me, suffering from depression became debilitating as I couldn't find happiness in the little things I used to enjoy doing. More often than not, depression would cause me to sit in my room and cry, usually for no reason at all. Depression is something that cannot be healed simply, and I wish I had been told just how easy it can be to fall back into a spiral of severe isolation and anxiety. It's so typical to believe that depression is nothing more than being sad. Depression isn’t feeling sad; if it were, it would be so much easier to deal with. Every time I'd let depression affect me, my body would go into shut down as I'd hardly sleep, I'd be sick: I had no energy to fight how I felt.  I’d be asked what triggered me to feel ‘sad’, and I felt so humiliated that I didn’t have a ‘trigger’; depression hits you when you least expect it, and it comes in frequent waves. As well as being physically fatigued, my depression led to paranoia, which had a huge impact on my life, causing me to fret and become severely overwhelmed, and so, the cycle continued between being paranoid, which made me panic, which made me depressed. I wish I had been told that depression isn't something to be ashamed of, as telling people I had depression was a task I still struggle to achieve.

I’ve lived with anxiety and depression along with an eating disorder pretty much as long as I can remember, but understand that that doesn't define me: I am ME. I have never really felt stigmatised because of this, and I’m very much a 'take me as I am' person, at least on the outside. Recently though, I had my first blatant experience of stigmatisation, and I’m so angry and shocked I feel I need to speak out about it... I went on a date with a lady, we had spoken for the previous week and she knew pretty much from the offset about my mental health issues, and I knew her ex had similar problems to me. At the end of the date she said she thanked me for the good evening and I said I would message. She told me not to, which I was taken aback by but let go over my head. I messaged her some days back to see how she was to which she responded I 'wasn't the guy for her' because of my anxiety and depression.  I was nice about it (as always) but it has left me with such a bitter taste in my mouth...here’s what I wish I had said to her: “Do you know what – I’m actually angry that I apologised to you. How dare you stigmatise me because of my mental health? I am ME, not my condition, and I can tell you that you have missed out on someone and something amazing. I am one of the most loving, compassionate and dare I say it, AWESOME people you will ever know, and I refuse to get down because of your small-mindedness.  I know you have had a bad experience in the past, but I told you from the outset about my issues. To carry it on and go on a date, almost out of pity, is not on. I wish you luck on finding someone as good as the man your small-mindedness just lost you.” I live with anxiety, depression and an eating disorder, but I am me, I am unique...and a pretty awesome unique at that. Your loss mate!