*Spilling Noises* — Depression and the Human Spirit
First posted on medium 09/20/2022
A public journal entry, Tuesday, September 20th, 2022.
Photo by Aman Upadhyay on Unsplash
If I can’t be honest here, in my writing, then why write?
So I’ll just be honest. I’ve struggled with depression since childhood. Depressed people understand, but people who have never been depressed don’t (and sometimes they make a point of it).
It’s invisible for the most part, excepting those brutal moments when a loved one becomes a statistic.
Sometimes I wish people would see it… but why? So people feel bad for me? What good does that do? Give me an excuse to stop fighting?
No, fuck that. But here I am, trying to get someone to see it, or just read about it I guess.
I could handle depression a lot better if I didn’t have to watch it affect my friends and family. I think that’s why the depressed push others away… they’re tired of perpetually raining on parades.
Depression spills over as it starts to possess you, define you. It convinces you that it’s the absolute truth — that hope is a mistake.
What’s the purpose of this story… I guess I just need to spill over a bit. So there. I feel terrible. *spilling noises*
Depression’s a big part of my story. I don’t want it to be the main theme though… I have to learn to live with it, to resist its gravity. My friends and family put up with so much… I don’t know how they do it.
I’m sure if I wasn’t depressed, I’d be one of those people who thought it was made up, just an easy way to play the victim. I’m a bit narcissistic like that, I tend to project my experience onto others.
But, I know depression. The cold, hard truth of it has given me empathy. I sincerely believe that everyone, even assholes, are doing the best they can. I know I’m not the only one carrying an invisible weight. Everyone suffers. Everyone.
People really kick ass when you think about it. Incredible.