What to Remember on Days When Depression Is at Its Worst
Editor’s note: If you experience suicidal thoughts, the following post could be potentially triggering. You can contact the Crisis Text Line by texting “START” to 741-741.
Some days, life feels very heavy, and the slow, melancholic drip, drip, drip of sadness pools inside of me and collects behind my eyes.
Some days, exhaustion is a living being, sucking away at my happiness, leaving me immobilized, unable to move, unable to think.
Some days I ask myself serious questions about depression: is it real within me, is it more than just sadness, is it really OK for me to feel sad? Am I at a point where “sad” is inappropriate, where an intervention is required?
Some days I get completely lost in anxiety, and I curl up on my bed in the fetal position, with a cat balanced on my hip, those heavy tears escaping, sliding down my face to form a damp patch under my cheek. And I wonder what happened yesterday, that enabled me to get up and out, and show my face to the world? And what happened today, that allowed the anxiety to suck that confidence out of me?
Some days I believe every bad thing that has ever been said to me, every confidence sapping word that has stuck with me, every accusation of unworthiness that rings as absolute and complete truth.
Some days I forget that I have fight, I have tenacity, I am an overcomer, I will always be an overcomer… even days when I don’t believe that, I overcome, as I lie in a tight ball on my bed, with my purring comforter keeping me warm.
Some days I really, really, really want to just give up. I really want to.
Some days, as the melancholic drip, drip, drip of sadness pools inside of me and collects behind my eyes again, I remember. I remember there have been days like this before. And those days hurt me, beyond measure. And on those days, when the dampness under my cheek became uncomfortably cool, and the weight of the cat on my hip became too much, I moved again and I remembered again. Some days are just like this.
Some days are just harder than other days: not more important than other days. Not more significant than other days. Not more character defining than other days. Some days are just harder.
Some days remind me to appreciate life, to love, to overcome: to live.
If you or someone you know needs help, visit our suicide prevention resources page.
If you need support right now, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255, the Trevor Project at 1-866-488-7386 or text “START” to 741-741. Head here for a list of crisis centers around the world.
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Thinkstock photo via Qwasyx
My name is Maria Dillon; I live in Christchurch, New Zealand. I am a Mum to two wonderful children, Shayna and Harry. I live life with a with chronic illness, earthquakes, and (at times) bone-crunching grief. I get through each day with my faith, the love of my family, and some incredibly supportive friends. One step at a time, one day at a time.
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