So, you’re depressed… now what?

Today, somebody offered me a job. I’d just wrapped up my tour’s closing speech in front the duct-taped statue of Tommy Trojan and, after finishing my third walking tour of campus for the day, I was completely spent, both physically and mentally. I promised the group that I’d stay for five minutes and answer any last-minute questions they had, but really all I wanted to do was go back up to the office and rest my legs for the last half-hour of my shift. Most people came up, thanked me for the tour, and left. The usual routine. One family stayed behind. The father shook my hand and introduced himself as a member of the USC class of ’81. The kids gave me the cool-kid head nod (as kids do), and their mother had a question for me.

“Do you have a job lined up, yet?” she asked, completely seriously. I realized at that moment I had probably talked a little too much during the tour about how I was stressing about looking for a job (most of the time jokingly, but there’s always a little truth to it), but I was happy to answer her by saying that no, I didn’t have a job offer, but I was looking to go into the field of education.
“That’s too bad,” she said. “I was about to offer you a job at my company in New York. I run a communications department, but it looks like you’re looking for something different.”
I stood there, shocked. I told her I was flattered and that it sounded like an incredible opportunity, but my heart is here in Los Angeles and I don’t think I’ll be able to leave for any kind of job. I’m willing to look into other career fields, but I’m not really interested in leaving the city. She told me she was impressed my my energy and personality and would have been happy to have me, and we eventually said goodbye and parted ways.
For the next few minutes I was beaming. The day had been long, and with the completion of my last tour I had given six tours in the past two days (this is why I have to write this story rather than tell it; my voice is a ghost of what it once was), but this was by far the most interesting end I’d ever had to a work day. I think what stuck with me most was the fact that the woman didn’t really know anything about me, other than the few things I had shared about myself on the tour, and she was willing to offer me a real-life, real-adult job. She didn’t have my GPA, she didn’t know my work experience, but based on my “energy and personality” she would have been willing to trust that I’d be able to do a good job.
Honestly, I wish I could be as sure of my energy and personality. I’m grateful that I was able to come across that way on my tours today — I think that being around groups of people always brings out the best in me — but over the past few weeks I’m not really sure that I’ve been myself.
At first, I just thought I was tired. Or sick. There are a million other things I wanted to attribute my feelings to, things that — in some way or another — could be my own responsibility. At this point, I’m not sure if it’s fair to myself to keep looking for answers when the truth is right there in front of me. When I realize that I’m finding it difficult to look forward to things, when I can’t clearly see any kind of future (either immediate or distant) because I’m too distracted, when all I want to do is sleep when I finally get some free time, there’s really no other word for it. But depression is a defeat I’m not eager to admit.
Anxiety is nothing new to me, but it doesn’t always necessarily equate to depression. Most of the time, anxiety hits me in a wave and then goes away; at that point, things more or less go back to normal. As time goes on, though, it gets harder and harder for me to recover. The anxiety gives way to something less noticeable but, in many ways, more difficult to deal with: apathy. It happens gradually, and I can never pinpoint when depression takes over, but I’m hoping that calling it for what it is will be the first step in the right direction.
Up until now, I’ve tried to deal with this on my own. I don’t want to burden anyone else with my problems, especially problems that can’t be solved overnight. Depression is something that I can easily hide when I need to, but it only adds to the exhaustion. Tonight, I’m taking a step out of isolation and asking for help. I called my mom and asked if it would be possible to go back on medication (which kills me — I’ve always had a deep-seated repulsion toward medication; I always think I can solve my problems on my own). I’m asking my friends to ask me to hang out with them, because most of the time I’m too distracted and exhausted to try to make plans for myself. I’m asking for people to have real conversations with me and with each other, because often times that’s the quickest way to healing and intimacy. I’m asking that my friends and family will know that I truly do care about them, it’s just a little harder right now to pay attention to them like I want to and to feel the connection with them that I desire. I’m writing this post and hoping that it will not only be cathartic for me, but that others might read it and realize that it’s okay to ask for help.
I’m hoping, in spite of everything, that self-awareness will be the key to beating this. It’s tough to admit to myself what’s going on, mostly because of the fear that I will lose the people I love and spiral further into something that I have no control over, but maybe now that I’ve given it a name it will be easier to face. I see depression for what it is, and I know that — with help — I am stronger than it will ever be. It might take hours, maybe days, maybe weeks, who knows. But, one way or another, I’ll be fighting on until depression is just a memory. If you’re doing the same, I’ll be happy to join you in the fight.

Thanks for reading, as always.