The Google Search History of a Person With Depression
Usually I hit up the Google machine for super boring reasons. I need directions. I can’t remember the name of a song. You get it. But when I’m depressed, Google goes from being my concierge to my confidant. Google is there as I move from denial to desolation, capturing my lowest moments and my most earnest attempts at self-care.
I recently emerged from three months of darkness… and my search history shows it. Some of the searches took place in my cubicle, others underneath the covers. I was feeling a lot when I typed each phrase, and their collective weight is akin to the heaviness that was in my heart.
So – before I change my mind about sharing this – here’s an uncensored chronology of my latest bout with depression:
“depression symptoms”
Because, you know, maybe my professionally-trained therapist was wrong.
“drowning GIF”
I like to keep my depression casual when drafting emails to coworkers.
“how to stop sleeping so much”
Never in my life have I been so confused about whether it was 8 a.m. or p.m
“can people tell I’m depressed”
It would probably help if I dried my hair and wore legit pants.
“dog adoption beagle”
I’m so lonely.
“short-term disability depression”
Is there any chance I could cry at home instead of at work?
“what they tell you on a suicide hotline”
Seems rude to call a hotline person in the middle of the night. I’ll just ask the internet.
“makeup application minneapolis”
Getting my makeup done for a friend’s [extremely casual] birthday party will bring my self-confidence back, right? Right?
“how to move past depression”
That makeup idea definitely didn’t work.
“pinterest inspirational quotes”
Never felt more basic in my life.*
*For the record, I found one I loved. It goes like this, “At any given moment, you have the power to say: This is not how the story is going to end.”
If you or someone you know needs help, visit our suicide prevention resources page.
If you need support right now, call the Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255.
Meg is a 30-something juggling generalized anxiety, depression, and something resembling a marketing career. She is a big advocate of aunthood, solo travel, and pancakes.
meg-finn