I never thought I would meet depression
Until it showed up uninvited
“The higher you climb, the further you fall.”
I’d heard it before. It’s likely that everyone has in some form or fashion.
I’ve seen it appear in many places: on a Pinterest board, an Instagram poetry post, a Tumblr account, even an Etsy sticker.
I never imagined this quote would be applicable to me.
I didn’t think I was invincible. I just never imagined I’d get to a place where I was so high that I would even be able to fall so far.
*Spoiler alert, I did.*
I recently stumbled upon a journal entry I wrote almost a year ago. It reads as follows:
“How are you?”
Countless times I’ve been asked this question and immediately my mind would resort to: awful, terrible, broken, depressed, hurt, empty, lost… think of the absolute worst place you could be in life and I’m there.
I spent this past weekend with my family and I, of course, was asked that question.
But this time… It feels really good to say I’m doing good. And actually mean it.
I’m not just doing good. I’m doing great. I can’t express how lit on fire I feel. I catch myself smiling at nothing. I catch myself looking into the sky with the sun beating down, just taking it all in. I love this me. I love the way I feel.
Life is funny. It’s really wild. I was at such a low, I never thought I would come up and just look at me now.
It still stings reading that journal entry because I know just how fast and hard I fell shortly after it was written.
I thought I was aware of depression. I thought I had felt it before. I believed I had a good understanding of what it was, what it was capable of, and the telltale signs that surrounded it.
But in reality, I had no fucking idea.
I didn’t necessarily think that depression would be easy to shake. But I didn’t understand the full complexity of it. I didn’t understand the weight that it carried. I didn’t understand how it could interfere and rule your entire life.
The best way for me to describe depression is heavy.
I felt like I was in a constant state of sleep paralysis. I was living in one of those dreams where you wake up and it feels like something is sitting on your chest.
You can’t move. You can’t breathe. You try and scream out, but nothing comes out.
Heavy is the only way I can describe it.
Each day that passed was a blur I don’t remember. My body was present, but my mind was away, too busy at war with myself.
I wanted to hide. I wanted to stay safely tucked away in my bed. A room full of people is the last place I wanted to be.
I vividly remember one specific night where I was guilted into going out with my friends. I was trying so hard to put on a face and have a good time, but it wasn’t working. It was almost the end of the night when Whitney Houston’s song ‘I Wanna Dance With Somebody’ came on.
Imagine a room full of drunk people and a song everyone knows, the room lit up.
This guy grabbed me to dance. I can still take myself back to that very room.
Time slowed in my mind. The sound muffled in my ears. All I could think at that moment as he was looking at me was…
Can he tell? Can he tell that I’m broken? Can he see it in my eyes?
I felt like it was written on my forehead. I could feel it seeping off of me.
But the worst part is… the answer is no. He couldn’t tell. No one could. A stranger would’ve never known. My friends would’ve never known.
Today, I am still healing.
And through this, I’ve learned that there are so many people suffering in silence.
So many people fighting a war within their mind.
So many people covering their hurt with a smile.
So many people wearing a convincing mask.
I was aware of this before I met depression. But now, I feel it.
And that’s why depression is so dangerous.
We don’t talk about mental health enough. It’s a sensitive topic. There’s never a “right time.” People get uncomfortable. And some are ashamed to admit. I know because, at one point, I was.
In my mind, admitting I was depressed meant I would be seen as tainted or broken. And I was already shaming myself for it. The last thing I needed was to hear it from someone else. I felt as if I had failed. I was mad at myself for being weak.
But the truth is, it’s not weakness. It’s human. It takes courage and strength to ask for help.
I could have fallen further or sunk deeper into the hole that I had dug. But I asked for help instead. And that was the most important decision I have ever made, and the strongest thing I’ve ever done.
Meeting depression changed my life.
Today, I feel the most human I have ever felt.
I look at people and my life with a different, more purposeful, more intentional perspective.
And I give myself more grace than I ever have before.
My biggest takeaway?
Ask the hard questions. Check up on the people you care about. And really, check-in. Set the stage for them to share anything they need to. I wish someone had done that for me. I really needed that. They do too.
And above all else, be kind. It sounds so simple, but it’s often still forgotten. It’s impossible to know what war someone is fighting in their mind.
