If Depression Was A Person

The day was long. Not the fulfilling, happy summer day type. The rain hit the coffee shop window, leaving a trail similar to the tears that I once cried. The wind was strong and if it wasn’t for the constant force that pulls me towards the earth’s center, I’d have involuntarily flown across the world. “God, you should fly to the other side of the planet”, he said as he sat next to me. I ignored and made my way home. He accompanied me, leaving as soon as I stepped the doormat. Now I could finally put on the music that would help me forget about the grey sky I’ve been staring at all day.

This was much of a routine. After work, I’d get my fourth or fifth coffee of the day on the café down the road, he would come silently and put some unpleasant words together. Sometimes, he’d walk me home, some other times, he’d just wave me goodbye from our table as he’d watch me leave.

He didn’t bother me nor was interesting, so I limited myself to learn his name and nothing more — “I’m Depression”, he introduced himself. That was the only time I’ve seen him smile.

This certain day, I woke up earlier and feeling energetic. I am not a morning person, so this was kind of an occasional accomplishment. I got up, worked out, took a shower, had breakfast and even had time to explore a couple of chapters from the book I’ve been reading. The almost non-existing rays of sunshine were awaiting me.

It was a surprise when I’ve heard Depression’s voice greeting me as I stepped out my front door. “Hey, D. What are you doing here?”, I asked. He didn’t hesitate to ask me for a cup of coffee. That was unusual. I have never seen him at the coffee shop in the morning. Caffeine wasn’t in my plans this morning, but who would I kid if I said I can survive without it.

“You know, your job is pretty shitty. Are you sure you want to go?”. D was right. My job was a parallel of excrement. But why would he question that? Why was I questioning that? My phone rang. It was an important call from work, leaving me no choice but to take off in a rush. The day continued as expected: work, coffee shop, home, a sporadic cup of wine, dinner, some journaling and bed.

The next morning wasn’t as enjoyable. My endorphins’ levels were significantly low. That question was now stuck in my brain. I still had one hour until the alarm went off, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go to work. So, I went back to sleep. It was a failed attempted. My mind was having a sudden existential crisis — the job is pointless, this routine is unproductive, how happy am I?, will I ever do what I really want to do?, will I ever settle down? — it was going miles. I managed to roll out of bed before I could hit the snooze button, took the habitual shower and peeked the sky to decide what would be my clothing for the day. Thick and dark clouds were covering the city. It felt like a Sunday, and similarly to every seventh day of the week, my choice was to stay in. I’ve put on some clean pajamas and prepared myself to dive in a movie marathon.

“May I come in?”, D subtly knocked on the door early in the afternoon uninvited. I nodded reticent, letting him in. His steps were silent and he always carried this vacant look on his face. Regardless, something about him led me to a comfort zone, so I allowed him in my life.

The negativity surrounded the atmosphere inside my house. He looked around in detail and hated every furniture and art I owned. I agreed even though it never occurred to me how bad-looking my apartment was before.

D and I emerged into a mildly interesting conversation. I opened myself up to the stranger next to me.

“I’ve wondered why you were constantly alone, thinking you were very comfortable with yourself, but the truth is you’re not captivating.”, he stated. “Five minutes in and boredom is all I envision.”

It had been the first time I reacted to his mean words. My mind froze. Is this the impression people have of me? Thoughts of low self-esteem invaded my head.

I smirked and turned my attention back to the movie. Or so I intended. Truth is, no one has ever called me boring. But I don’t usually engage with outsiders. And they lean to veracity when talking to random people. It’s not his interest to hurt me. He is just being honest.

Before I realized, we were three movies in. This third movie was about the different perspectives on achievement. “It doesn’t matter how much you work for it, you won’t succeed.”, some character cited. “This is your reality.”, D redirected it to me.

I gave it some thought, but he was right. I’ve worked hard all my life and I accomplished nothing. I curled myself up as if I was a fetus again and lost myself in tears. He poured me a glass of wine and I drowned my sorrows in it. We skipped dinner. I don’t skip dinner unless I am sick. I am not sick. Hours of crying went by and he was still there watching me. I was beyond bothered. What was once an indifference, it was now a dull presence in my life. Will you help me? Please help me. I wanted to say these words, but I couldn’t avoid the fact that he was the reason why I felt abruptly hopeless.

The levels of toxicity this person has brought into my body in one day were unthinkable. It could be the white drink talking, but he had to go. I couldn’t give up my life because he thought so. I couldn’t turn down my ambition because this unfamiliar face expressed adversity. I couldn’t miss on being happy.

I asked him to leave. I didn’t scream, I didn’t resort to violence. I simply asked him to be absent. For good. And just like that, I never saw Depression again.

But Depression Isn’t A Human Being

And I didn’t kick it out of my life. And the depression consumed every inch of wellness in me. So I struggled with it and still do. It impacts my life in shapes and forms I believed only happened in movies. I lost several jobs, my self-worth, my ambition to it.

I dismissed it and consequently lost myself.

When I learned what it was, I convinced myself it was a teenager phase, because everyone portrayed it that way. It was the despair of being uncomprehend, the momentary reaction to the existing situations that were wrecking my life. I trusted and accepted that it was a confusing sadness. It is ok to feel sad when things go wrong. But it is not ok when things go wrong because we feel sad. You see, I didn’t know that. I was held hostage to a low spirit, without fighting it.

After years of weakness, I finally understood the gravity of the situation. I questioned if I would let someone poison me with negative thoughts and the answer being no, then why was I doing it to myself? I was ill.

That’s when I deliberated to seek help and the importance of being assisted. My life improved just from venting to someone else other than me. Someone that recognized my illness. Someone that provided alternatives to my dark thinking.

If you suffer from depression, don’t hesitate in searching for help. It is hard to admit, I know, but helping yourself is essential to your well-being.

I ask you to picture your mental illness as a living being and so, I leave you to this question:

Would you let them stay and intoxicate your life?

[ The End ]