Getting Some Words Out

I've been trying for days now to come up with something to say about depression. Something that will help people to "get it." Something to stop some of the negative comments I have seen. Something that makes more sense than anything I've said before.

I just don't know that any magic words exist.

Yesterday, I was told by a well-meaning friend that I should have a plan in place for the next time I'm feeling depressed. It sounds great in theory. Only "if-then" statements are based on logic and depression doesn't follow logic. I could have a pile of books to read or an up-beat music playlist to pull out or designated friends to call when then the edges start to dull. The thing is that I don't care about any of that during an episode. I don't want to feel better. I don't want to feel anything.

When D was suicidal we did have plans in place. But it was a daily team effort developed to keep her from spiraling out of control. She could go from a 6 to a 2 in an hour. Her plans ranged from simply taking a walk to calling a friend to calling her therapist. But again, she had an outside monitor. She had me. So I'm not saying it doesn't work for everyone and if it works for you, wonderful. Do it.

That's the thing about depression. It isn't the same for everyone. We don't all experience it with the same severity. For some of us it's situational and never happens again and for others it's a lifelong struggle. Some people can take medication on a temporary basis, some take it daily for long periods of time, and the really unfortunate need to be hospitalized. There isn't a one-size-fits-all solution.

I was trying to come up with an analogy for how I'm affected. Women will get this and I'm sorry to be exclusionary, but it's the best I have right now. It's also further explanation of why making plans doesn't work for me. When ladies get their periods, we know it's coming. We get bloated, we feel a twinge of a cramp, we crave anything and everything. And it's almost always an "Oh, shit!" moment. Not this again! But it can't be stopped, so ice cream is bought, sad movies are turned on, and we rage inappropriately at anyone who crosses our path.

Now, I personally think that all periods are bad, but they also range in severity. Some women have a light flow. Some can pop an Advil and feel fine. Some experience debilitating, time-stopping cramps. They can't all be treated the same.

How is this like depression? Because I know it's coming. I can feel it lurking at the edges. And, oh shit! there isn't anything I can do to stop it. In fact, trying to stop it only makes it worse. Succumbing to it for the time it lasts is the best that I can do.

And how does this look to the world outside? Like I'm being selfish, like I've stopped caring. How many people (including me many, many years ago) have declared how really selfish suicide is? It's so selfish. How can you not care about the people you leave behind? What about your children? Or, when it's "just" depression and you're only canceling plans and ignoring the phone, you're being selfish. Uncaring. Anti-social. Sometimes just rude.

Here's the thing though. Depression is a big, fat, fucking liar and tells me that I'm a piece of shit. It's REALLY hard to care about anything outside of myself when all the noise inside my body tells me I'm not worth it. And when I'm just trying to tread water, I don't have the stamina to amuse people at a party or even participate in a meaningless conversation. Because at that point, it's all meaningless.

Depression is isolating in other ways. The mere fact that it's considered a mental illness sets its victims apart from the general public, but its intangible quality is what makes disbelievers of even those that are closest to us. When my mom visited last week, she asked D why she gets depressed and D replied, "Because I have depression." I tried to explain to her how I can be in a roomful of people I like, having a GREAT time when, without warning, my heart will bottom out, leaving me feeling completely alone in the world. "You really feel that way?" She asked incredulously. I do. And I hate it.

So here's the part where I should tell you how to help. Probably. But I don't think I can. When I'm in an episode, I usually want to be left the fuck alone because I don't want anyone even looking at me. Except for the times I want to be rolled like a burrito and told how loved I am while I ugly cry. Staring at the wall is a favorite activity a lot of times. When it's really bad, it physically hurts. It's like my body turns to lead and then I have to drag it around all over the place, knowing that people are staring at me because they can see that something is Very Wrong with me. And the staring can break me like glass.

I think the most important thing I can tell you is to just be nicer. Make connections with people. Strengthen those connections. Listen. Understand that the world is harder for some people and make it easier in small ways. Know that what's on the outside seldom matches what is on the inside. Act personally, don't take things personally. Be gentle.

Mostly, just be fucking kind.