***TRIGGER WARNING...SUICIDE AND SELF HARM***
Anxiety is my major demon, and so is usually the focus of my disseminations.
Depression is my secondary illness and one I usually struggle less with. However,
over the last week I have found the old black dog weighing me down.
At night I am unable to fall asleep, tossing and turning for hours and
then in the morning I am unable to wake up. I lie in bed after I have woken up
dreading putting my feet on the floor and facing the day.
I am finding less joy in things I usually like to do, art, gardening,
photography are just not as important as sitting on the couch watching re runs
of Law and order or Netflix.
It’s easy to tell you about the symptoms my depression shows the world, Comfort
eating, lying in bed for 14 or more hours, sitting on the couch staring at the
tv all day when the house needs cleaning. You can see these things in the dark
circles under my eyes, the weight I gain, or my cluttered home.
I can pass other little symptoms off as quirks of my personality. I
shudder for no reason so crack a joke about ghosts. I jump in fright too easily
but that’s because I’m just highly strung. I turn up to work early every day because
I love my job and want to be punctual, it has nothing to do with the
overwhelming dread I have to fight every time I need to leave the house.
The hardest part of depression is trying to describe the invisible
symptoms to people, the things you have never experienced unless you have
fought tooth and nail with the dark morbid monster in your head.
Suicide or self-harm ideation is a big one. Yes, we all have morbid
thoughts but for a person with depression these thoughts are much bigger, more
constant. I used to walk past a crocodile infested river on my way to and from
work. At least three times a week I would stop and think about jumping in.
At a don’t walk sign I always think about walking out onto the road. I
lie in bed thinking about getting a kitchen knife and slitting my wrists. I
wonder just how painful of a way drinking bleach is to die. Or how about if I swallow
a balloon, will I choke to death? Is that plant in the garden toxic? Should I
eat some of it to find out?
People close to me think I make these things up for attention, but to be
completely honest with you there are times where the compulsion to harm myself
is so strong it takes every bit of energy I have to stay alive. The only person
who really seems to comprehend the severity is my husband, and unfortunately,
he understands because he has seen me out on that dangerous ledge too many
times.
Another symptom it is hard to explain is the pressure. Quiet often it
feels like someone is sitting on top of me or hugging me too tightly, I need to
take a deep breath and try and convince myself it’s all in my head.
Or how about the overwhelming self-doubt? Not just the normal humble
doubt everyone experiences. No for someone with depression it is a soul-destroying
doubt, it doesn’t just creep in, it rushes over you like a tsunami.
I have been convinced my husband doesn’t love and stays with me because
it is convenient. I can be so sure my pets hate me, even as the cats sit on top
of purring. I love my Mother in Law with all my heart, but I cannot understand
why she could possibly love me. I can hold a good job with great money but be
absolutely positive everyone thinks I am bad at it.
Even writing all of this, it still isn’t a good representation of what
depression feels like to those of us who suffer through it.
During the witch trials a way to get a confession out of someone was by “pressing”
them. To do this a person is laid across a hard surface and more and more rocks
are piled on top of them, slowly crushing their bones and internal organs. One
rock at a time until the pressure is too much, and they die.
That is exactly
what depression is like, one black thought at a time until one day the pressure
becomes too much, and you die.
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