Enough

I find myself really struggling lately. I feel like I have no one to talk to. Even my counselor seems out of touch. My husband is chastising me for being down. My boss is noticing my absences. My animals are oddly clingy which I appreciate but I know is a sign I am exuding this pain. It's constant. It's nearly unbearable. But, ironically it is me. It is familiar.

And it doesn't bother me like it used to. What bothers me is how everyone is telling me to be "me". It feels insulting. This is me. This is a part of me. This is the sickness. Not the health. And pointing out to someone who is feeling this way that they're abnormal or depressed is like telling another person "Hey you're being a human today" or "hey I noticed you're breathing today".

My family and friends don't understand this. They keep telling me I'm giving up. That I could see yet another doctor. That I could try another pill. That I need to be happy. And it's like-- enough.

Sure I feel lousy. Sure I am down. Sure I am depressed. But I'm still living. I pay my bills. I do my work. I am meeting my responsibilities. So what if I am sad? It's like-- I am okay with who I am. I have accepted this cycle. I know it will get better eventually. Ive experienced it enough. I know my self care strategies. I have my plan. So why does everyone keep accusing me of not doing enough.

It's like-- do they even know? I've seen dozens of doctors. I've taken so many different pills. I've tried multiple types of therapies. In fact I have a degree and certification in this field. I know all this--- i just choose not to fight it. Fighting it and trying to silence this only made me worse. I only attempted self harm on pills. I felt even worse talking about it.

I am okay with who I am. I am sensitive right now. I am prone to crying. But never in public. Always at home. No one even knows - although many suspect.

My husband really hurts my feelings telling me to get help. I have. This is what help looks like. This is stable me. This is controlled me. But it is also depressed me. You can't take that away. It is who I am. It is who I will always be.

So Enough. I'm tired of being told who I am. I am Sunlaien. I am human. And I am depressed. I hate the stigma. I hate the superiority. I hate being labeled abnormal. Quite honestly, if normal is not feeling or caring I don't want to be normal anyway.

People who are not depressed have an hard time understanding depression.. they're not necessairily mean, they just don't understand.

I'm sorry you feel hurt.

That's the truth. I don't even need them to understand my depression because I know that's probably not possible. I just need them to accept me and if I'm happy with me, for them to be okay with that. It feels like people are asking me to change the very fiber of my being.

So is the other side of depression.

We are human beings
(The stigma and perceived "superiority" of some people who don't get it are bs... it's understandable that people who have not experienced this don't get it, but the finger pointing etc from some who don't get it is not acceptable)


Normal is relative, normal is fluid..

May be you could try to tell them to respect your privacy? Tell them again and again and again until they are able to put away their interfering in YOUR life (and perhaps put away their family-perfection as well).

GOOD LUCK!

Yes, you are right. We have to pick our friends with great care and shun away from people whom make our depression worse.

I don't tell that I'm depressed. That helps me to live a normal life, when my depression doesn't show!

In my experience The biggest issues the friends and family of a depressed person have are:
1 they don't understand the depth and breadth of this illness, how is spreads itself over every aspect of our lives, how it warps the way we see ourselves and the rest of the world and how hard it clings to us (like a feeding tick) just ducking away our life and our joy.
2. Because they don't understand, the don't know what to do or say to help us, and a good many of our friends and family really do want to help us. They just don't have a clue. So they say things that hurt, things that infuriate us, things that make us despair even more
3. Because they can't help us, they feel guilty. And guilt makes them feel uncomfortable. That's when they either start to blame themselves (and pull away from us) or start to blame us (you're not trying hard enough to get well). Many people don't understand that a mental illness is different from a physical illness--take your antibiotic for 10 days and your infection goes away right? It's not like that with what we have. Because they don't understand, they want it to be that simple-/take your meds, see a therapist, try harder and you'll be cured.
We know, because we live it every day, that it's not like that. When people start saying things to me that hurt me or just make me so mad, I try to remember these three things: they don't understand, they want to help and they can't, and not being able to help makes them feel guilty and inadequate. And that's why they're saying those things. It doesn't always help, but sometimes it takes the sting out a bit

Thanks everyone. It certainly can be tough. I understand where the intent is for so many, but it gets tiring having to hear it again. And again. Despite my making these same statements as said here.

I was dealt this hand. I used to dread it. I used to hate it. But hating it and hiding it didn't make it any less real. So now I embrace it. I work with it, not against it. And I think to so many that looks like giving up. But I feel like it's my right to decide when and how I fight. And whether I want to fight at all. It's like someone with a chronic physical illness. Sure, some problems can be cured with medication but what about permanent disabilities? Cerebral palsy? TBI's? Amputations? Those individuals can't just will themselves to be cured. To me, depression is not like the common cold. It's a permanent and sometimes crippling, chronic disability. There may be ways to help, but as far as a cure? I think that depends on the person. I don't feel I will ever be cured. I've lived with it for decades and I have come to accept it. I have found a way to actually live instead of just survive. Depression is part of me but it does not define or rule me.