It is something that has taken me a long time to fully acknowledge, I had always tried to play it down or shrug it off. I've often mentioned in passing my struggles with anxiety and my depressive moods, but I cannot recall a scenario where I went into great detail about it. More often than not, I just brushed it off with the admirable, if sometimes misguided, stoicism society tends to encourage. Even in 2017, talking about mental health still appears to be a stigma. It's hard to admit you're struggling, let alone tell another human being or a group about it, putting yourself out there, allowing yourself to be vulnerable is extremely daunting. Also, people generally do not want to hear anything other than "positive vibes only," it's less of a hassle to say you're okay and put a brave face on things, even if it's just for show.
Some days I wake up and I feel like there is this weight on me, and I have a sinking feeling in my stomach as if I am about to throw up. I realize that the monsters have come back for a visit, and I prepare to go through the day with their constant nagging and whispering in my ears. At some point during the day they leave me, as if going on a slight break so we don't get sick of each other or to go home and rest for a while, but they always come back to bother me... usually when I am in a great mood.
Following my graduation from University, I moved back in with my parents for the summer. After countless job applications, I was struggling to find a job which presented itself as interesting to me. I quickly accepted an unpaid internship which I had little desire in but was told would direct me into a promising career within a government organization. Initially, I had turned down an opportunity with a tech-startup in a different province, for this unpaid opportunity which I was told would be the better choice of the two. Two days into the internship I quickly came to the realization that this wasn't for me and proceeded to quit once I arrived home from the lengthy commute.
I still don't understand. I've had depression for over 10 years and it is still something that I get confused by and frustrated with and I still don't know how to deal with it. Trying to explain it to others is nearly impossible. How can I explain my depression to someone when I'm confused by it every single day?
For years, writing has been my passion. I have so many ideas brewing around in my head for different novels, but none of which have come to fruition. I can be half asleep and come up with an amazing plot. I'll wake up and jot some basics down, but they are basically useless to me. I can never have enough muse to get anything done. If my life isn't even together, how can I put another one together? I often put the blame on depression for draining my life force, slowly, but surely. As it turns out, this is only part of the case. Executive dysfunction is the actual culprit.
After tackling the beast called anxiety, I figured it's time to touch on yet another topic that I personally deal with and am highly fascinated by. (Yes, the brain is fascinating and even though I curse mine I am genuinely intrigued by its functioning—or lack thereof—ha.)
Having depression is hard enough, and having a significant other can make you confused and frustrated while you're in your moods. Having someone there for you may make things easier and for me it is an amazing thing, but it can also get tough. This is my personal experience and you may benefit from my story. If not, I'm also going talk about some advice for dating someone who has major depression.