The Realization I Had on the Third Day in Bed With Depression
It was the third day of not showering and not getting out of bed. It was also the third day I didn’t go to work and kept my phone on airplane mode so no one could reach me. It was the third day of staring at the ceiling, crying, falling asleep, waking up and crying some more.
Like the previous two days, that day I opened my laptop and browsed for news and funny memes. That is when I found an article titled “To the People Who Mistake My Depression for Laziness.” I read it and couldn’t stop crying. It was like the author was telling a story of how I’ve felt for the past few months.
It was the third day of doing nothing when I don’t even know why I didn’t do anything but also blaming myself for not getting anything done. It was the third day of arguments between me and myself, bringing up tons of things I should be doing but also the fact that I don’t think it matters if I do it anymore so I chose not to do it but stare at the ceiling instead. It was the third day of whispering, “You’re such a drama queen,” “Can you just get your act together?” and “I hate you” over and over again to the woman in the mirror.
After reading the article I decided to read some other similar stories. Each and every one of them brought me to tears as they hit very close to my heart. I reached for the phone, and for the first time in three days, turned it on. I called every psychologist office in the city, trying to get an appointment for the day. Unfortunately, they are all fully booked. The closest slot was two days away, and I didn’t think I could bear another 48 hours without talking to another human being.
I read some more articles and cried some more. Most of the stories, I realized, don’t really have happy endings, or any endings at all for that matter. They just tell stories of how people like me feel. And that’s OK.
And so I reached for the car keys and headed to my husband’s office. I tried my best to blocked out the thoughts of, “You’re going to be a burden for him,” “He’s going to leave you if you keep being this way,” and “He’s going to love you less.” I was tired mentally and physically, and I just wanted him to know my story.
“Hey honey, can we talk? I’m at the parking lot.”
“Sure, darling. I’ll be right down.”
I don’t have an ending yet, but I’ll start by talking to the one I love.
We want to hear your story. Become a Mighty contributor here.
Thinkstock photo by A75