You Need a Depression Buddy
“Do you have anyone who actually understands you?”
Throughout the last 7 years of my depression, I’ve been exceptionally lucky to have encountered many people who have shared my journey. Unfortunately, the first 21 years were not so blessed. Those who are familiar with the monsters of mental illness will also be familiar with the haunting feeling of loneliness that it brings. Even the most well-meaning comments can only serve to enhance this loneliness. My father’s initial assessment was that “I needed more sunshine" and there are more people than I can count who have urged me to give up my medications. This doesn’t even touch on the people who are not quite as generous in their goodwill. It is critical for my well being and sanity that I get to speak to someone who actually understands what it means to be locked in a battle with your own brain.
My first depression buddy took the form of a lovely coworker who was delightfully upfront about her struggles and her use of antidepressants. When I was 18, my mother told me that I couldn’t take antidepressants because they would change my personality. Having someone that I admired be so willing to discuss her medications went a long way to removing the stigma around my own need for pharmaceutical intervention. I’ve tried to return this favour whenever possible. I’m not ashamed of my medications or my illness anymore. But I do…
