This is a picture of depression

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On Saturday, I asked Nick to take a picture of me.

I was low that afternoon. I was sad. I was anxious. I was angry. I felt overwhelmed by nothing specific, yet everything all at once. I felt every emotion intensely at one moment, and I was completely numb to the world by the next.

At one stage, I had managed to pull myself out of bed and into the kitchen. I was standing there for a few minutes, talking a bit with Nick, when I noticed myself dropping to the floor in tears.

I was losing it, falling into myself.

This is a scene he has witnessed a hundred times before – and one he will likely witness a hundred times again. There I was, lying on the floor, looking sad and pathetic, crying my eyes out.

And then I saw him seeing me.

And he was looking down at me with nothing but compassion in his eyes.

And so I asked him to take a picture of me.

Because I saw him looking down at me and I saw the pain I was feeling mirrored in his expression. I saw him seeing a broken person; a lost person; a sad and fragile person. I saw him acknowledging me. I saw him validating the demons in my mind. I saw him feeling everything with me.

When I saw him seeing me, I saw just how much he understands. And I understood why he does.

This is the very scene that I fought for years to hide. This is the part of me that I never dreamt of exposing to the world. This is the person I was ashamed of being. This is the darkness I didn’t want to admit I was afraid of.

But this isn’t a picture of me. This isn’t a picture of the person I am. This isn’t a picture of someone crying on the floor.

This is a picture of depression.

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Dear depressed me

Dear depressed me,

You are me.  I, however, am not you.  Not anymore (or at least not today).

I wish I could be the face you saw in the mirror, instead of that empty shell.

That look of pure nothingness; all excitement faded long ago. That blank stare. That twisted, screwed up face you make as you try to hold back your tears.  You look at your reflection and you try to be strong.  You stare into the mirror, hating what you see.  And still, you try and tell yourself you can do it.

One more day.  Push through one more day. Tomorrow might be the day things change.

But you’ve told yourself that same thing day after day, week after week, month after month, and it’s yet to prove true. You’ve yet to see me staring back at you.

I’m here. Somewhere. I am. And I’m telling you that one day I’ll be able to push back to the surface. That one day, I’ll teach you how to smile again, without dying inside as you do.

I know that right now you don’t remember me. You’ve heard of my existence, but you’re not convinced I’m real. You think you’ve always been a shell- you can’t remember being a warm and cozy home. You’re sure you’ve smiled before – there are pictures to confirm it. But you don’t think the smile was real – or at least you don’t see how it could be again.

You are me. Your thoughts are mine. My thoughts, however, are not yours.  But one day, they can be; they will be.

You will look into the mirror and you will see somebody new. You will see a reflection of your strength, in place of yesterday’s empty eyes.  You will see a smile staring back at you, just as you did before.

You will see me.

And then, you will remember that you are me – not the you you are today.

Do you love someone with depression?

lovesomeonewithdepression

I’m working on writing an article from the “outsider’s” perspective.
IE: the significant other-, the close friend-, the relative- of a person with depression.

If anyone could volunteer their input on this, I’d be ever-so-grateful! Either comment here if you’re comfortable with open discussion, or send me a private message or email (23brokeandhappy@gmail.com).

QUESTIONS TO CONSIDER:
-when did their depression begin?
or, had it always been going on?
-how did you recognize their symptoms?
-did they reject support/treatment at any stage? if so, how did you react?
-did you approach them, or had they already sought help?
-what was the most difficult thing for you to understand?
-what hurt you the most to see or hear?
-is there anything you wish you had done differently?

AND MOST IMPORTANTLY:
-what’s the number one thing you hope they always remember?

THANKS GUYS!! xxx
(if you could SHARE THIS, i’d greatly appreciate it!
I’d like to get as many responses as possible to paint a relatable picture.)

love you aaaaall!!
Becca