Coincidentally, after a year of starting this blog, I’ve come to discover one reason for this blog’s existence.
I started this blog exactly a year ago, with the title: I Don’t Know What Title to Put, but I’m Gonna Write About Depression. Throughout the year I just wrote and wrote, on various different topics, without knowing why I was doing this. Writing isn’t an easy task, especially when the mind isn’t articulating properly, and when death seems like a more appealing option. I have thought of different reasons to write, but didn’t find them to be satisfactory.
To advocate for mental health awareness? There are already plenty of organizations and articles that do that, no one is gonna care about another one (and no one did, actually).
As a journal? Well then there’s no point in publishing, plus, I couldn’t write a lot of my real thoughts that are not politically correct in a public domain I don’t own.
To serve as company to people feeling similar so they feel less alone? No one bothers to read a nobody’s blog like mine anyway, so even though this is a noble goal, it’s more like a dream than a reason.
To provide tips to help people overcome? There are plenty of other similar articles elsewhere, plus my blog is now full of my own rant 😅
But a few days ago I finished reading my first book in 2024. I mentioned it in my previous article, it’s a book by Matt Haig — Reasons to Stay Alive. I won’t go into the details about this book, though I might write my own review about it in the future. But from the title of the book itself, it’s not hard to guess that it’s a book that tries to convince why someone suffering from mental illness should hang on, instead of hanging themselves.
The book started with this sentence: “Thirteen years ago I knew this couldn’t happen…”, and then proceeded with the author’s perspective on depression. I shook my head for the first time while reading (and a lot more times afterwards) when I came across this sentence: “So the fact that this book exists is proof that depression lies. Depression makes you think things that are wrong.”
It’s very easy to claim that depression (or other mental illnesses) lies, and that those thinking patterns are distorted and simply not true, after you have found ways to overcome yourself.
But.
Was it a lie, when I almost lost my job due to my demotivation, severe cognitive impairment, inability to perform the simplest tasks, and constant depressive episodes, that I feel that I won’t survive in the world?
Was it a lie, that after mustering the courage to confide in people I trusted, almost everytime I got invalidated, judged and told to not think this way; and after countless years of the same experience, I feel so, so alone and no one could understand me?
Was it a lie, that in the depths of depression, I found that greed and materialism rule, that people will ditch me when I have no more value, that even if you are severely depressed and can’t work, the so called “professional help” is much harder to access without money, and kindness is merely a feeble sprinkle amidst the cruel society we created?
Was it a lie, when I couldn’t do the simplest things, couldn’t fold the blanket properly, couldn’t make breakfast properly, couldn’t do house chores properly, as if basic survival skills have left me, that I felt totally powerless?
Was it a lie, when my mind goes totally blank and I can’t think of what to say when someone talks to me, that I’m socially crippled and life is gonna be very difficult?
So is it wrong, that in the midst of feeling all these pain, and seeing our dreams, passions, meaning drifting further away, realizing life is going to get much much much much harder unless we do a lot of the impossible, that we become more convinced that the blissful void of death is actually much comforting, and much more appealing?
Everyone loves to hear a hero’s story of victory, they don’t want to hear the boring tales of someone struggling, who still has a chance of not making it, even if they are where the most valuable strength lies. — Danny, a nobody, 2024
Looking back at the struggles you have overcome gives a totally different feeling from struggling with it at this very moment. Things that make sense in hindsight, often don’t make sense when we are in it.
Which brings us to the newfound reason for the existence of this blog. You see, most of my articles don’t preach hope, quite the opposite, they were full of hatred and negativity. They were written, not when I have found a way to beat depression, but when I’m still in it, including this very moment when I’m writing this article. Every bit is as real as it gets, there’s no recollection (other than the earlier Journey of Recovery articles) to say that depression is “lying” to me. A lot of articles were written as I felt deep resentment, pain, suicidal, and even unsure why I wrote them, but I did.
There’s no guarantee that I won’t die the next day or next month, defeated by depression. There’s a chance you’ll continue to see me ranting “distorted perspectives” for the next five years with no visible improvements, or maybe I’ll even give up writing tomorrow.
Uncertainty lingers, unlike any storybooks. How my life will end is as uncertain as it can be.
And that’s the point. That’s the reason to write. To write about depression as it brings me to my knees, not when I’ve stood up. To be honest, I’m still in an objectively much better living conditions than a lot of other people (which I’m grateful for), so some people might still find it too unrelatable.
That’s fine though. That’s all I can think of that I can do with my blog now.
If I beat depression, you get an accurate and uncensored account of the whole journey of my depression.
If depression beats me… well that just goes to show the grim reality of it.