What it is like to live with Major Depression

Five years old – that’s the first time I remember thinking that if I wasn’t around then everyone would be happier and better off. I remember seeing the commercials asking people to “adopt” one of the starving children in Africa and I felt, no, I knew deep in my soul that it was somehow MY fault that those children were starving. I remember thinking that if I ran away, then any problems my parents had would be gone. As I grew older, running away morphed into killing myself. Those starving kids in Africa, well, they were still somehow my fault and any problems my parents had were still my fault. If my parents were struggling financially or couldn’t afford something that my sister or I wanted, I just knew that if I hadn’t been born, then none of that would have been a problem. I never told my parents how I felt. I never told anyone. I didn’t want to hurt anyone by telling them. I never told anyone about my suicide attempts. I knew that no one would understand just what it is like to live with and battle Major Depression.

Every single day is a struggle to get out of bed. Every single day is a battle against the urges to end your pain. Some days are better than others. Some days you can see the tiniest shimmer of the faintest light at the top of the deep, dark black pit of despair and depression. Other days, you can see nothing and feel as if you are falling deeper and deeper into that never-ending pit. You feel worthless and unlovable. Every flaw, every fault is all you are. You see nothing good or positive about yourself. Every problem is your fault. You are a burden and a disappointment to everyone, especially those you love and care about. You feel deep in your soul that everyone would be better off if you were no longer around; if you were no longer alive. You feel as though nothing you do will ever be right. You feel as though you are a mistake. If someone gives you a compliment or does something nice for you, Depression screams loud and clear that it was only said or done because the person felt sorry for you or felt obligated to say or do it. You feel you must be a truly terrible person and don't deserve anything good or true happiness. Sure, you can laugh and smile and joke around. As you get older, you can learn to recognize what is a rational and normal thought and what is an irrational thought, but being able to recognize it doesn't change it. Those of us who have been fighting this battle for so long have learned how to expertly hide the daily struggle from everyone around us. To look at us, you would never know the constant, non-stop internal pain and anguish we feel that no amount of crying or talking or pills will make go completely away. There is no cure for this. This is a lifetime battle. Suicide, death, comes when you have reached the point at which you can no longer take the pain and can no longer fight.

Co-workers look at me and have no clue. Others have a false or misguided impression of what it is like and therefore, think that it is something you can just "get over" if you just "stop thinking that way." When my daughter was born, I made a promise to her that I would never do anything, no matter how bad or hopeless things got, that would ever cause her to utter the words “my mom killed herself.” I repeated that promise the day her brother was born. I can say that my children are literally the only reason I am still alive today. I’ve finally found both a doctor and a counselor with whom I feel completely comfortable, at ease, and able to be totally honest with about things, such as how the medication is or is not working and how I am truly feeling. For the first time in my life, I feel as if I may, one day, experience what a “normal” life is like.