What Would Happen If You Could Really See My Depression?

I frequently wonder what would happen if you saw my depression. I wonder what you would say if you saw all of it. All of its ugly, horrible parts. All of its effects on me and all of its attacks.

I wonder what you would do if you saw it keep me in bed until I’m late for meetings and shifts. I wonder what you would do if you saw it drain me to my smallest existence of emotion. I wonder if you could see the times when it clouds up my brain to the point that I can no longer concentrate and no longer remember. I wonder what you would do if you could hear what it tells me. If you could hear the internal monologue that attempts to tear me apart. If you could feel the block that forms in my head that announces I will no longer be productive.

If you could see all of it, if you could see the numbness slowly descend over me, what would happen?

Frequently I feel if you saw, you would judge me and pity me. I feel if you saw, then you would abandon me and withhold love from me. I feel this stigma I see so frequently would rear its ugly head and leave me as alone and broken as my depression says I am.

That’s why I hide. I’m afraid you will embody that stigma and validate it.

But, sometimes, I feel that maybe you could understand. Maybe if you saw it holding me down, you could help pick me up. Maybe if you saw it isolating me, you could make me feel less alone. Maybe if you heard what it says to me, you could tell me it’s wrong and you could build me up. Maybe if you knew what I was going through behind this front, you would offer help and support.

The good news is, I have had some amazing friends and loved ones do exactly that. Their support has been unmatched, and letting them in has helped me grow significantly.

So I will no longer hide it, and you will not see me as lesser — or broken or incomplete. I am wholly supported and loved. I am enough.