I Don't Care If I'm 'Bumming You Out' With My Depression
If you experience suicidal thoughts, the following post could be potentially triggering. You can contact the Crisis Text Line by texting “START” to 741741.
Recently, I was told I posted too much about depression — that I was “bumming people out.” This comment not only infuriated me, but it hurt my feelings. How often do people like me — the chronically ill, depressed and others struggling with a mental disorder — deal with some inane comment like that? A comment that’s meant to shame and only discourage people’s truths.
I’m sorry, not sorry that I’m “bumming people out.” People need to know what it’s like to have a mental disorder. I’m done being told to “chin up,” “get some fresh air” and “exercise” to cure my depression. That’s not helpful. When you’re depressed and anxious, you can’t “pull yourself up by the bootstraps.”
In my case, when I’m going through a depressive episode, all I feel is pain. I get bone-tired that no amount of sleep can alleviate. In my head, all I hear are criticisms of myself, how I’m a loser and unworthy. That nobody loves me. That I should kill myself. And the guilt — it’s overpowering. I feel guilty that I’m a depressed mom and that I have limitations that other moms don’t have. I feel guilty because I can’t control how I feel. I feel flawed and defective because growing up I came to understand that depression was something you could wish away with fresh air and sunshine. That strong people didn’t get depressed. So, that makes me weak, right? That’s the stigma of depression talking. I know better now. There’s nothing weak about me, or anyone who lives with a mental disorder.
As I write this — and I’m not even experiencing a depressive episode — I’m purposely overeating, doing anything that will make the pain I feel go away. Overall, I’m doing great right now, but the thing about depression is that it lurks, always waiting for an opportunity to blanket my brain in doubt, fear and pain. And it’s so lonely. Not everyone understands and there are so many misconceptions about depression. My brain, my own brain, tells me to isolate from friends and family, making me even lonelier and in despair. Luckily, I was able to go to a very good psychiatric hospital where specialists properly diagnosed me, prescribed the right medication and started me on electroconvulsive therapy (ECT). I’m so sick that doctors have to pass electric currents through my brain to trigger a seizure, resetting my brain. I have to do treatments every six to eight weeks, along with weekly therapy, just to feel almost “normal.”
My diagnoses are as follows:
Persistent depressive disorder (dysthymia).
Major depressive disorder, recurrent episode, severe.
Generalized anxiety disorder (GAD).
Binge eating disorder.
Avoidant personality disorder (AvPD).
Opioid use disorder, moderate.
Sedative, hypnotic or anxiolytic use disorder, moderate.
I’m one of the lucky ones because I can afford a high-dollar hospital and therapy. There are people who can’t. There are people who are suffering in silence, all because some people feel uncomfortable and “get bummed out” talking about mental illness. It’s bullshit. No one — and I do mean no one — should ever suffer in silence. There’s nothing embarrassing about struggling with depression. It’s not a weakness. It’s the same as having any other disease or disorder.
So many people put on a happy face in order to hide their illness, and that too is bullshit. And that can be so dangerous if that person has suicidal ideation. People literally die because they don’t feel free to share how they’re feeling. The CDC reports that more than 48,000 people die each year by suicide. That number is surely to rise because of the coronavirus (COVID-19) pandemic. It has to stop. I’m done being embarrassed by the fact that my brain is wired differently. I’m tired of feeling weak, when in reality I fight for my life every day. I’m strong as hell. I’m scrappy and I have grit. I’m proud of who I’ve become. And I will certainly not stop talking about depression or other mental disorders. I don’t give a fuck who I’m bumming out because I’m also giving a voice to those who can’t quite find theirs yet.
I’m free from the embarrassment and guilt. I’m done with caring what other people think — the weight of their opinions is far too heavy. I will continue to lend my voice because I want others to be free too.
Please let us be free.
Photo by Jonathan Cosens Photography on Unsplash