I Have Secrets
I suppose you could say that I have one secret, and that one secret spawns a subset of smaller secrets, secrets that I don’t feel like keeping to myself any longer.
I have depression. I have had depression since my eleventh grade of high school (I am now in my fourth year of University).
The interesting thing about depression is that we tend to associate it with “sadness,” and while yes, sadness is a huge part of depression, the symptom that truly characterizes depression, in my opinion, is lethargy. When I am experiencing a bout of depression, which is approximately one out of every four months (of course it varies), I “cannot” do anything. I mean, physically I COULD get out of bed, but it feels as though I am made of sand, and lifting all of that sand up and out of bed requires more strength than feel I have in me. It doesn’t matter how hungry I feel or how much I know that I should shower, removing myself from my bed during a particularly bad depression spell is an extremely difficult task.
I want to tell you about my depression because I need to admit it, in some shape or form, to someone. That isn’t quite right… to many somebodies. I want to tell an audience. I’m not brave enough to tell everyone yet without the guise of Windie here to comfort me, but this is a step in the right direction. The first step was truly admitting it to myself. I have had the thought, “I’m depressed” before, but never really have I admitted to myself until recently that “I have depression.” What I hope to achieve, first by admitting I have depression to myself, and then to other people, is to stop thinking of it as though it’s my fault. I hope to start thinking of it as something that isn’t a weakness, a fault of my character, and instead as something to be treated.
I’m vowing now to stop feeding depression. I’m telling myself and anyone reading this now that from this moment onward I’m going to try my best to pick my sand filled body up out of bed and fight through the symptoms when they occur. I’m going to eat when I’m hungry, shower when I need to, and practice anxiety reducing techniques so that I can sleep better. I’m going to learn not to let my external circumstances affect me quite so much anymore. Yes I feel absolutely done with school, but I’m not ACTUALLY done yet, so Windie, it’s time to tuck your head and skull bash it until you’re really done, you can do it without all the sadness. Perhaps most importantly though, I’m going to stop telling myself that I am somehow weak, stupid, or worse than others people for feeling this way. I’m not, and I know it’s not my fault.
What is my fault though, is contributing to these feelings of depression with my own negativity and self pity. I need to stop making myself feel worse, and I’m telling you all right now that I can and will stop. I don’t expect it to happen overnight, and I fully expect there to be some bumps along the way. Maybe I won’t always be able to pick myself up out of bed, but I am damn well going to try. I guess you could consider this post my own sort of take on a New Year’s Resolution. So I guess what I’m saying is: 2013, whatever you throw at me, I will be ready. Bring it.