Rant: Depression = Sadness, right?

It’s common to associate depression with a stereotype. Someone’s depressed, they mope around and sleep a lot. OR they are dealing with some unpleasant life circumstance that is overwhelming.

I cannot imagine a description further from the truth.

Sure, it may look like that sometimes but often, true depression is unrecognizable. We throw the word around so casually that we forget, or never know, what it truly means.

In my early years, (or so I thought) I spent much of my time battling depression. To the extent that I actually tried to take my own life, twice. Both times, I thought of the pain I would be causing my mom and that outweighed the pain I would continue to live in. Fortunately, my chosen method was pills, so I could reverse my decision. Given my own experience, one would expect that I would clearly recognize signs of severe depression. Here’s a story from high school:

I was having lunch with my usual clique. Among us was a guy. He was sharing how he had an interview that day at our favorite skating rink. We were excited! Who wouldn’t be? 90’s? Skating? Does a job get any better?!?! He would go after football practice and let us know how it went! We had our lunch, ribbed each other and then went off to our classes. Early the next morning, I got the call. His mother came home to find him hanging in his basement. He would never know that he got the job, that call came later that afternoon. This guy, who seemed to have it all, to our young and naive eyes. Football player. Popular. Interviewing for an amazing job. Talking about the future. I replayed various time I had spent with him, trying to see what I had missed. To this day, I can say, I would have never seen it coming.

That was the first time I understood that I would never understand depression. I read about it. Research it. Discussed it. I never wanted to lose another person that way. I promised myself that I would never put anyone I loved through the devastation I witness in the wake of losing this friend. But I wanted to recognize it and help if someone in my life was in that kind of pain.

Fast forward. A couple years ago, someone beyond close to me disclosed that he was suicidal. I was floored. How? How could I miss the signs, again. Immediately, all of my energy went into saving this life. It HAD to be saved. Again, I racked my brain to see what I had missed. Sure, he spent a good deal of time alone. Slept quite a bit. But that’s normal at different stages in life. He laughed. He had friends. Spoke of the future. …We worked together to dig him out of that hole. We talked openly about how he was feeling. He knew he had a lot going for him, but something was stopping him from moving forward. Stoping him from executing on his plans everyday. With each failure, a sense of worthlessness grew. The harder he tried to get things done, the further out of reach they seemed. The more the feeling of worthless grew. Through those conversations I realized what depression could mean. And that I, myself, was in fact still depressed.

I did what I do best. I researched this perspective on depression. I came across a phrase: The Impossible Task. It was the best description of depression I have ever heard, not to mention the most relatable. The Impossible Task is a task that you are willing yourself to complete, but you absolutely cannot bring yourself to start. Maybe it’s a big project. Maybe it’s getting out of bed. Everyday you struggle with these Impossible Tasks and you abuse yourself for failing. It’s easier to go back to bed or hide out in your house, where you continue to battle yourself about getting The Impossible Task done.

What causes depression varies. It could be situational, as in overwhelming trauma. It could be chemical. It could be a combination of factors. It could be unexplained.

Regardless of the cause, depression is a battle, actually, a war that wages within. An invisible war that can be debilitating.

The good news is that there is treatment. Treatment can take many forms. There is medication. Medication is triage, an immediate solution to stabilize the chemicals in the brain. More effective than medication is love. Surviving and overcoming depression requires love. A circle of love encompassing a person is the best method of recovery.

I get a lot of grief because I have an open home. Almost a flop house. I never know who I will find in my house when I wake up. It is by design. The people in my house are seeking love. Often, they come from broken homes. They grow up never knowing unconditional love. They find that love within the walls of my home. My mission has become to provide love to those who need it most. To give worth to those who feel worthless. To save a live that otherwise might not survive.

I am far from perfect and trying to win my own battles. But there is always time and space to give love. A dear friend taught me the meaning of holding space for others. Never under estimate the difference a little love, kindness and generosity can bring to a dying soul. It may not replace the necessary medication but it can and will make a huge difference to someone in need.

The happiest people you meet are most likely the people that need that love the most. Be good. Love generously. Read the signs. Help those in need. By any means necessary.