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I know usually Instagram or Facebook pictures are happy, inspirational, or cool. I know I do this too. We all know we just share the highlights of our lives. It’s not a full reflection of the ups and downs of our lives.
Today I wanted to share this seemingly happy picture.
This was taken a year ago when I was probably the most depressed I’ve ever been, even though on the surface my life seemed pretty good. And in a lot of ways it was, I definitely tried very hard to convince myself that I was OK or “happy.”
But I wasn’t.
There were many times that I felt life was pretty meaningless and that there was no point to it. I never seriously considered suicide, but I could understand why someone would do that.
It wasn’t a good sign when I drove to San Diego and just stayed in a dark hotel room by myself the whole weekend.
I had lost the will to even get out of my room. In the past when I felt depressed I would get myself out of it through some kind of diversion or willing myself through it, but I just didn’t feel like fighting so hard anymore. It felt hard to just get out of bed in the morning, and even harder to somehow get through this depression. It didn’t feel possible.
But at my lowest I decided to go to therapy which, for anyone that knows me, I always saw as weakness. Something others needed, but not me. I was too strong for that. I was very wrong. About all of it.
It took me hitting rock bottom to finally decide to get some help and even then I did it skeptically and reluctantly. Obviously it was the best decision I’ve made in my life, who knows how my life would’ve gone if I didn’t finally get help.
This doesn’t mean that I was “healed” all of a sudden, that’s not how it works. But it was the beginning of change, even if it sometimes felt like it was getting worse.
It was the start of finding more meaning in my life, and in feeling happier overall.
I definitely wasn’t always happy this past year, in fact I probably cried more in the past year than I did my entire life. Yet, I’m much better than I was, how can that be?
I think because meaning doesn’t mean being happy all the time.
Being happy and pursuing happiness gets put on a pedestal in our society, as if it’s something we should all be or something we all should be pursuing. That seems to me like a very shallow existence. Suffering is a part of life, everyone has and will suffer in varying degrees during their life. That’s inevitable. But finding meaning and allowing these seemingly “negative” emotions to be expressed is what creates a full life.
All of it together. Good and bad.
The biggest misconception is that if you’re depressed you would be sad all the time. That’s not true. Even when I was depressed I could be “fun” or the life of the party. I saw that fun as an escape from myself, something that made me feel better temporarily.
The worst thing about it is, not the sadness, but how numb you feel all the time. Like nothing matters at all. So you find external things to make you feel better. Like partying, sex, travel, or whatever your escape. Just to feel something, anything at all.
As long as you’re on that pleasure high then you feel ok, pretty good even, but when you come down you go very down. And inevitably there will be a come down. It could be days, weeks, or even years, but it will eventually happen.
So why share this?
Because maybe depression, anxiety, or anything else that people deal with mentally should be talked about more so people can feel less alone in it.
That’s one of the hardest parts of depression, how completely alone you feel.
I know I felt like I had to deal with it myself and that I didn’t want to burden anyone with my “minor” problems. Maybe this doesn’t make sense to everyone, but emotions aren’t very logical.
I really believe if people were more open about these issues and talked with each other more then not only would it help each person, but anyone dealing with these things would also feel less alone with their problems. Then maybe depression or any other mental health issue wouldn’t be seen as a weakness, it would be seen as a struggle that you can fight and overcome.
And maybe if we talked more openly we would realize that there’s many more people dealing with mental health issues than we think. Your brother, friend, husband, aunt, son, grandmother, boyfriend, coworker, or the barista you get your regular coffee from. I think we’d be surprised with what everyone’s dealing with.
Reaching out for help and doing something about it takes strength.
Anyone dealing with their mental health should take pride in that. There’s nothing “broken” about you. Finding meaning in this struggle makes you stronger. Talking about it and getting help makes you stronger. That’s real strength.
And maybe, just maybe, we’d find more meaning in our lives in this shared struggle. Isn’t that really what we’re looking for?
Originally published on Medium. Republished with permission.
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