The Dark Room
Imagine being isolated in a dark room, no sound but the thoughts running through your head. The static is consuming you and you can't find your way towards the door. The scary part isn't being in the room alone, it's what's on the outside of the door.
For me, that is my depression. It has been an overwhelming ache for the last ten plus years off and on. A therapist once said she thought it was probably seasonal but I realized quickly these last couple of years that's just not the case.
I have moments where I feel fine. Completely fine. I don't feel consumed with doubts towards life and I can feel like I'm living. Then I have days where I want nothing but to go in The Dark Room and shut the door and turn up the noise in my head.
I've blocked off a lot of my childhood memories so I can't really remember if I dealt with it that far back but I know as a young adult it most definitely has played a huge part in my life.
Depression runs deep in my blood line. From my Nana to my Mother, both my Aunt and Uncle, and family members I barely remember. I worry about my boys because one of my biggest fears is that I'll pass it on to them.
I've been on so many different medications that at one point I was numb to everything around me. I couldn't cry, I rarely laughed, and any emotion I had towards anybody in my life were just... cold.
One of the hard parts with my depression is it's hard to find a balance. The days where I feel fine, I can also cry at the drop of a hat. The smallest heartbreak can feel like my heart is shattered in pieces. Then the days where I'm numb to the things around me, I feel like I'm walking around in a fog.
The other night I was lying in bed just scrolling through my phone looking at old pictures. I came across this picture of my Nana's hands. Just her hands holding Trae. I lost it. She's been gone for six years but the thought that I will never see her hands again just cut me.
It's times like that when I wish I could just be numb. I get tired of feeling so deeply that I'd rather feel nothing at all.
I have the normal everyday stresses that any adult would I guess. Bills on top of bills, trying to make sure I don't scar my kids some type of way, and not going off in meetings at work. The usual.
So, what is there to be depressed about right? Everything. Every. Fuckin. Thing. The thought that every dime I ever make goes to endless bills. The thought that my son may remember how much I yelled at him for not cleaning his room and resent me as an adult. The thought that I may never have a CEO title because I didn't go to college and get a degree. Every. Fuckin. Thing.
I want to sleep a lot. I can go home from work and be in bed by 5:30. Sleeping is an escape. It gives me a moment to dream and disappear from reality. But then I have to wake up.
I go through phases where I don't want to talk to people. I push people away because it's easier than trying to explain what's going through my head. My mother always thinks I'm mad at her. I don't know how to tell her that I don't know if I need a hug or if I want to disappear from the world.
The only light in The Dark Room that I ever see... my boys. They make all my darkest days a little brighter and all the noise a tiny bit quieter. I could never be numb to them.
Depression can be easy to hide. It's almost like a tattoo. Hidden under your clothes, only you can see it, and only you know the meaning behind it.
I didn't want to start blogging about my life for sympathy - I never want that. I'm a big girl. I wanted to write because I know there are people out there like myself. People who carry on about their day with everyone around them oblivious to their pain.
This blog in general isn't even a "How to Beat Depression". I truly don't know how. I've tried. I fail repeatedly. What I can say though is if you do struggle - you aren't alone.
I can also say - DO NOT GIVE UP. Even if you have to go to your own Dark Room and shut the door. It's okay. As bad as some of my bad days are, I know that if I left this earth I'd pass along too much pain to those I leave behind. It's just not worth it.
It's scary what a smile can hide.