Depression is Brutal

Every step forward follows three steps back. It never fails. I’ve come to accept that I’ll never be “normal” or that I’ll ever live a “normal” life. I’m okay with that. I could live being and feeling different than everyone else because I’ve done so all my life.

But here’s what I can’t do anymore and I am at a loss on where to go or what path to take. I absolutely cannot deal with the mental torture and imprisonment in my own mind. It’s almost as if I am watching myself die slowly.

I see so many other people happy in life and getting things (like the job they wanted) and seeing their hard work pay off. And please don’t think I want anything but that for them because I want everyone to find happiness and be content in their lives. I just find myself wondering “what did I do to deserve being imprisoned in my own head”?

I just really don’t think I was cut out for this life. At the same time, dying is easy and living is hard. I don’t want to give up the fight to live. And I won’t. But I’m writing this because so many people do not understand the depth of depression and the daily struggle it can be just to open and close your eyes.

At some point, enough is enough. People wonder “how could someone ever take their own life” or “I don’t understand why he/she just couldn’t push through it,”. Thankfully, those people don’t have the battle depression day in and day out and I wouldn’t wish depression on my worst enemy.

No one deserves to be trapped in their own mind. No one deserves the sheer torture and misery of not being able to escape their own unimaginable thoughts and feelings, even if temporarily.

It’s bone crushing. It’s like endless nails on a chalkboard. It is always there. It is there when you wake up and it’s there while you sleep through your dreams and nightmares. No matter how hard you try, depression comes and strips you of the little hope you have left.

I was too greedy to keep a job I loved for a job that pays well. I was too unhealthy to complete my education so now a student loan is in default after multiple attempts to try and get it out of default without going bankrupt. Taking a shower has become exhausting in and of itself let alone trying to be presentable in public.

I find myself questioning my purpose in life because I literally feel like I contribute nothing to this world and people in it. It’s almost like I’m this annoying mosquito that just won’t leave you or anyone else alone.

Every day I wake up is literally the one reminder that I’m still around to be miserable inside and take every fiber of my existence to fake it on the outside.

Oh and guess what Ms. MaryAnne Williamson? I take medication and go to therapy and guess what? This empty feeling, unexplainable and overwhelming sadness is still there. Your experience is different than mine and probably others so please, don’t act as if those of us with depression are just not capable of handling “every day life struggles” because we’ve battled wars against ourselves since the moment we knew we weren’t like everyone else and that it’s not normal to feel this empty, hollow and utterly useless.

And no I don’t think popping a pill fixes depression for all but for those of us with chemical imbalances in our brains, it definitely helps take the edge off. Love can’t fix what is scientifically and anatomically different from what it is supposed to be. Sorry to break that to you. If you are not a credible mental health professional, do not give your unsolicited advice or opinions about mental health. It is potentially damaging to many suffering from depression.

To those who are struggling with depression in this very moment, I feel you. I hear your silent screams. We are trapped in our own mind and no amount of screams or cries for help can be heard. Depression, also known as a monster, makes it so no one can hear you. But even though I can’t hear you, I feel you pounding through my chest, fighting for your life each and every day. And because of that, you are my heroes.


A Letter To My Best Friend, You Will Not Be Forgotten

It has taken me a year to start writing this and I don’t know why. Maybe writing this and seeing it in black and white will somehow make me accept that you are gone and never coming back. I am so angry and I don’t know what or who I am angry with because it is kind of pointless to be angry at someone who can’t and won’t ever be able to defend themselves.

I keep replaying conversations between you and I right before you left this world. What did I miss? Why didn’t I realize something wasn’t right and listen to my gut? Why couldn’t you just reach out to me, like you always did, when you were spiraling out of control? You know damn well I would have been wherever you needed me to be in a heartbeat because I always have been and vice-versa.

From the moment I met you over a decade ago, you had my heart. Yes, we dated first but first and foremost, we were best friends before and after our relationship. We saw each other through some of the worst and best times of our lives and I wouldn’t have had it any other way. When I found out you were gone and I was never going to hear your voice or see your bright, beautiful blue eyes again, I realized my life was never going to be the same without you.

You taught me what friendship was supposed to be and not what I had concocted in my twisted brain. You were one of my biggest cheerleaders and always one of the first to tell me how proud you were of me. I wish I told you how proud of you I was more than I did. I honestly just never thought this day would come. How naïve of me to think that way.

Since the day I met you, there was a demon you had been battling day in and day out and despite the outcome, you put up one hell of a fight my friend. But in the end, what caused you so much pain, agony and despair was the thing that killed you. Your fight against heroin is admirable and it took every ounce of strength and courage you had, even when you couldn’t find it. I can only hope that you are at peace now, but you will be missed every single day and you were always loved by me.

I am so grateful to have had you in my life for as long as I did. At times, you really were my rock when I was unable to stand on my own. You gave me courage and strength when I was heading down a dark and dangerous path. I wish I could have done the same for you. You are NOT going to be just another statistic in the opioid epidemic. Your passing will be more than a number, I am giving you my word on that. Have I ever broken any promises I made? You know I take promises very seriously and when someone breaks a promise, it speaks volumes.

The opioid epidemic had officially crossed my path on a personal level the day you went away. I can only hope to have half of the strength you had during your fight and hopefully save a life. You know me, I want to save the world but I know that I can’t. But if one person can be spared the vicious and destructive path of addiction by mine and others advocacy and voices, I am okay with that. But I won’t stop there.

You and your life experiences WILL NOT be just a number that people use in research papers with no solutions or plan of action to attack this opioid epidemic straight on. I promise you that. I will miss you every day and I hope you know how much I loved you and cared about you. Be in peace, now.