*Yes that is a reference to Pirates of the Caribbean. No I am not sorry.*
Those closest to me know that I was fairly recently diagnosed with clinical depression and General Anxiety Disorder. Now those of you not closest to me know too. I mean, that's if it wasn't obvious to you, and I know it sort of has been.
I'm not really here to talk about the self-hatred or the lack of interest or the feeling of drowning in a thick blackness of every horrible thing you've ever done or the way getting out of bed is impossible because it's like you're dragging a huge boulder with you wherever you go. And I'm not particularly interested in discussing the pros and cons of therapy and medication, either. The symptoms and the treatment are things you can learn about elsewhere from people with degrees who have more knowledge and better words.
Basically, I'm ranting, because this is my blog and I'm allowed to do whatever I want, thank-you-very-much.
When I had sunk so low that I was solely using Spark Notes for English class, voluntarily watching ABC Family dramas, and wearing the same clothes four days in row (and I'm not saying there aren't still times when I do all those things-- I have nowhere near recovered), I had essentially lost all hope. I felt like nothing would ever be okay again.
The problem with depression is, it isn't logical. You may be in a terrible situation, when depression is somehow "justified" (ew ew ew), or you may be surrounded by a loving family in a nice upper-middle class house with a steady income and regular access to pizza. Either way, the feelings of hopelessness, of drowning, are so incredibly oppressive that at times you can barely move. And since my depression felt so incredibly illogical, I spent half my time hating myself for feeling "unjustly depressed" and half my time trying to think up a reason as to why I was feeling this way, thinking if I could just get rid of it, maybe it would magically disappear.
Except there was no reason. And I tried talking to friends about it, but that just made things worse.
There are two phrases I am positively ill with hearing.
The first is "It's just your age. Everyone feels like that when they're a teenager. You'll grow out of it." I will vomit all over the next person to say that to me. Do you. Have any. Actual idea. How. Much. Worse. That. Makes. Me. Feel.
Given how popular this attitude is, and the fact that my parents haven't helped me find a "grown-up doctor" yet now that I'm eighteen, I'm surprised anyone diagnosed me and took me seriously at all. It makes me so frustrated when people say that somehow, my age is responsible for my depression.
Depression isn't some sort of sick rite of passage that every teenager goes through like puberty and prom night. It is a chemical imbalance in the brain. It's serious. And treating it like it's not just because a kid is experiencing it shows how much ageism has taken over our society. How can look at a fellow human being who is literally drowning in their own anguish, and because of they are younger just shake your head and mutter "Kids today"? If I was having a depressive episode at thirty, or fifty, would I be melodramatic then?
The second phrase I will absolutely die if I ever have to hear again is this:
"You have no reason to be sad."
I have heard this from a caring nurse, two close relatives, several good friends, and a complete stranger on the Internet.
To anyone who plans on saying this to me in the future:
I KNOW. I AM COMPLETELY AND TOTALLY AWARE THAT I HAVE NO REASON TO BE SAD. I AM CLOTHED AND OVER-FED AND WHITE AND HAVE A JOB THAT PAYS REASONABLY WELL AND MY PARENTS ARE STILL MARRIED AND I HAVE CENTRAL HEAT AND FREE WIFI AND LAUNDRY SERVICES AND A BOYFRIEND AND LOTS OF PEOPLE WHO LOVE ME AND EVEN THOUGH I'M BEHIND IN A COUPLE CLASSES I AM STILL MANAGING A'S AND B'S. I HAVE NO REASON TO BE SAD. I GET IT.
SO WHY AM I STILL SAD??????????????
*panting*
Unless you have a degree in Feelings, or are God, or Dumbledore or something, don't try to explain my feelings to me. If I can't understand them, what makes you think you can? Worry about your own feelings. Give me hugs, not an analysis. U feel me?
No comments:
Post a Comment