That’s What They Tell Me

Hi world,

Today I’m gonna share something I wrote when my depression basically peaked. It was on a very bad day and I was drowning in so many feelings so I just felt like I needed to get all of it off my chest. I have been going back and forward if I should share this or delete it. I quickly decided that it was needed because I think it’s important to bring some awareness to what it is like to live your life with a severe depression. I’m on my road to recovery so it’s easier for me now to share what I’ve been dealing with. I hope that you will welcome it and maybe share this so that others who currently are struggling with the same will find some comfort in knowing that they aren’t alone in feeling like this… I hope that it will make you who aren’t suffering from a depression understand the illness, better because it’s so much more than just a medical term. It can be earth-shattering and dangerous and I never before understood or realized just how much until I experienced it myself, on my own body, mind and soul…“Today is gonna be a good day. Today will be different”I chant the words in my head with my eyes closed, hoping and praying that I somehow will find the strength to open them. I don’t want to, but I know that I have to. I wanna stay here in my dark bedroom with my blinds drawn and hide away from the world. I wanna stay here curled up under the duvet. I don’t want to hear, I don’t want to see… I just want to sleep. Please, just let me sleep. Sleep is the only comfort I have, it’s the only place I have some kind of peace, at least when my demons aren’t haunting me in my dreams and poisoning the only place I can feel safe.I wake up to the overwhelming feeling of guilt, shame, self-disgust and exhaustion. I know that I have to get out of bed. I know that I have to try, but every step from that bed feels like a damn marathon. I realized today that I’m in chains, that I’m my own captor, and I have no idea how I’ll ever be able to break free. I’m limited in what I can do, in what I am able to feel and I don’t understand why. I’ve tried to figure it out so many times. I’ve tried to understand why I’m feeling like this and how I ended up here. This is not me, but on the other hand, I don’t really know who “me” is anymore. Maybe she’s lost, maybe I’ll never be able to find her again. I try to figure out where it all went wrong and it’s like looking for a feather ind a sea of needles. If I move it hurts, if I dig deeper it hurts. I can’t escape the pain. “Do something that makes you happy”That’s what they tell me. How can I do that when I no longer remember what happiness feels like? How am I supposed to do that when my mind is clouded and I’ve forgotten what I’m fighting for?I want to be left alone because people don’t understand anyway. They say that they do, and they are so damn nice about it that it’s sickening. “It’s okay, it’s okay to feel like this”That’s what they tell me. Nothing is okay right now and I fear that it never will be. What if I can never feel anything again? What if all hope is lost for me to ever be the one who everyone around me deserves. What if I can never be the perfect daughter, amazing sister, a great friend, a loving wife and a caring stepmother? What if all I have to offer the people in my life is this sad version of someone they used to know? Someone that ignores their calls and politely answers their messages in hopes that they will finally give up. No one knows what I’m feeling inside and I have no strength to try and explain it anyway. What good would it do anyway? It would only make them feel even more sorry for me than they already do. It’s killing me. “Think about it like it was a broken leg”That’s what they tell me. It’s not a broken leg. It’s a broken soul, it’s a broken heart. It’s a broken human being. You can never compare the two… Only difference is that you can’t tell the pain I’m in by simply looking at me. People would understand if my leg was broken, they would be able to see and understand what was wrong right away by just looking at the damn cast. Maybe I should walk around with a sign over my head “I’m broken and I can’t be fixed”, then people would at least know what they are getting themselves into. “You are so strong”That’s what they tell me. It makes me want to scream. It drives me insane. If I’m that strong for doing that then why am I more broken now than before? Why am I suffering while doing it? I’ve never been more weak than I am right this moment. “Go outside for walks”That’s what they tell me. I don’t want to. I don’t want to feel the fresh air in my lungs. I don’t want to walk on these shaky legs. I don’t want to look at the world outside. I don’t even want to step outside of my bedroom. Don’t tell me that a walk outside would make me feel better. I don’t believe it. I don’t buy that it is a way to my recovery. For so long I have been outside, pushing forward, trying not to let whatever is hurting inside drag me down.“You can do it”That’s what they tell me.

But I already did. I did it before. I tried so hard to be better, I ignored all the warnings and the signals that it wasn’t right, and I did it. I ignored my anxiety, because I had to. I jumped right over it and thought I had left it behind, because I needed to. I ran way from it, but too soon I was exhausted from running and my pace got slower, making it easy for everything that I was running from to catch up with me again. It was a bitter reunion.

I’ve been trying so hard to be the person I want to be. I saw my own potential when everyone kept reminding me of it, so I pushed away the feelings, experiences and thoughts that was holding me back… hoping that everyone would be happy, so that I could feel happy.

I’m tired now. I’m so, so tired. Please, just let me sleep and don’t wake me up. Leave me be, let me try and be happy for me. For once just let me be. Don’t fight for me, don’t talk to me and tell me everything will be fine, I don’t have the luxury of that kind of hope anymore. Hope kills and it get’s harder and harder to come back.

I know that this is it. I know that this is my last life. I know that if I don’t find the strength somewhere, somehow, I’ll be done living. I’ll leave people behind that loves me, even in this pathetic version of me that I’m able to offer them at the moment. People that are proud of me for fighting, and they are not even realizing that I’ve given up. I don’t have more fighting left in me, that place is empty.

“Take baby steps”

That’s what they say.

I try. I try so hard, but I’m not getting anywhere. I’m stuck and I forgot how to move. I feel paralyzed and trapped in my own mind. How is that even possible? How did I even get to this point?

The questions are driving me crazy and I’m drowning in them. No wonder I’m tired. I might not move, I might not go out, but I’m battling a war inside myself and I think I’m losing it. Each day everything gets harder. Harder to feel, harder to do things, normal things…

Today, somehow I managed to shower, brush my teeth and my hair. I managed to get dressed, and not just into another pyjamas. I told myself to open the blinds, to go outside of the bedroom, so I did. I told myself to do something that used to make me happy. So this is me doing that… I guess that that is the baby steps they are talking about.

The trick must be to not take any steps backwards. To constantly move forward, even just the tiniest bit, little by little, every single day.

Someone once said: “The bravest thing I’ve ever done was continuing to live when I wanted to die”. I can relate to that.

So maybe I’m not strong, maybe I’m just brave. Brave for opening my eyes in the morning. Brave enough to trust the process and the people around me when they say that everything will be fine in the end. Brave enough to take the step outside of my bedroom and sit down and share my thoughts, knowing that there are so many other people out there, that are experiencing the same thing as me.

Nothing but love,



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