Through the grey

When I was twelve years old, the symptoms of my depression started to show. I started caring about what people thought of me. I started worrying that I was just a grain of sand amongst every other grain of sand and that, if I was gone, no one would really notice or care. I started to truly believe that my life held no meaning. Of course, as I was growing up, I always had my family behind me in everything that I did, but in the throes of depression, you don’t see those people as reasons to keep fighting, you see them as just a few more people to let down, to disappoint, to prove to that you’re nothing. I believed that I was a burden to everyone around me. That they’d be better off if I wasn’t there.

Depression is the absence of happiness, of carefreeness, of confidence.

In junior high, I binged. I’d last a few days, and then I’d binge again, drinking day and night for weeks at a time, eating everything and then throwing it all up. That’s not something I like to admit. I was hurting myself in countless ways. I lost all of my friends. But depression isn’t just sadness, it isn’t just anger or self-loathing or any combination; depression is the absence of happiness, of carefreeness, of confidence. It’s just absence.

Depression is grey.

Everything in the world, everything you see, hear, touch, experience is grey. The things that used to make you happy are dull. The things that used to make you sad are dull. And when everything in your life is grey, you start getting upset and angry and anxious and scared because what kind of person can’t see beauty in anything no matter how hard they look? And you get frustrated and you hate yourself for feeing like this, feeling nothing, and you turn to self-harm because at least it’s real. Self-harm makes all of the pain and the anger and the frustration into something that you can understand – something physical. Because it’s easier to wrap your head around a scarred up wrist than it is to understand a hail storm of emotions coming down on you every second of every day for who knows what reason. Because there isn’t a reason. Depression doesn’t need a reason to latch onto you.

It’s a blessing, but I used to think it was a curse.

Me, I feel everything too strongly. It’s a blessing, but I used to think it was a curse. When I’m happy, I’m the happiest girl you’ll ever meet. When I fall in love, I fall harder than most. Depression got me because I feel strongly, and I used to think it was a fault, but it’s the best thing about me. Sometimes, in order to see the beauty in the world, you need to first see how ugly it can be.

I have experienced addiction and abuse and abandonment; I’ve seen the rot in the world, but I’ve also seen how amazing it can be. It took countless years suffering for me to realize that I am experiencing these things because I am an extremely emotional person, and that is a beautiful thing. It means that I care deeply. I love deeply.

I don’t like to talk about the things that happened to me because they’re in the past now and they no longer define who I am. But I do like to share what I experienced when it comes to my depression and my anxiety because there are an outrageous number of people struggling with these same issues every single day and if, by telling my story, I can help even one of those people to see their worth, then all of my pain and all of my suffering was worth it in the end. That’s what keeps me fighting. That’s what beat my depression.

*In a special first for SNW, we had a piece written by Shay’s mom Debbie posted on the site yesterday entitled, “through the eyes of a parent.” Please check it out https://www.sicknotweak.com/slider/community-stories-30/.