Anyone that reads this blog or knows me in real life knows that I have "issues" with depression. Not many realize that, for the most part, I battle that demon on my own. It's not that I want to, necessarily, but rather that I have to because of the fact that I do not really know how to ask other people for help -- nor am I able to without feeling tremendously guilty -- and when I am feeling horrible enough to ask for help, people refuse. It's always something -- "I don't like seeing you depressed, Kyle", "when you're depressed, it makes me depressed", or some sort of "excuse" followed by an about-face and a race to the hills or as far away from me as they can get. No one ever seems willing to give me what I need at my most troubled hours: support. I don't know why.
I lurk around a few depression boards on the internet and read what others have to say, and I think it's definitely one of those things that many that suffer from depression most desperately need. True depression is faceless, it has no "reason" aside from the fact that God has, for whatever reason, decided to curse some poor soul with that demon. It is horrible to go through, horrible to know that even if you pull yourself out of one episode that it could very well jump at you a day, a week, a month, or years later. It's always there, and it's always ready to leer its ugly head, and it's at those times -- whenever they might be -- that a person suffering from depression needs their loved ones the most...and it seems that it's at that time that friends and family seem to distance themselves from the one suffering. It is a shame, it really is. I mean, I can understand the way that people would want to stay away from me when I am having an episode, I can understand their desire to run away from me even...God knows I understand, because when I'm having an episode I wish I could run away from myself. I do.
I don't enjoy hating myself and my life. I don't enjoy the inability to find any joy in my life. I don't enjoy the thought of having my friends and family brought down because I am down. I don't enjoy the feeling of total apathy towards everything or the dread of opening my eyes in the morning and getting out of bed. I don't enjoy wishing harm to myself. I don't enjoy wishing I had never been born. I don't enjoy feeling as though I am worthless, always have been, and always will be. I don't. I don't enjoy any of it...and not just because I have the inability to enjoy much of anything either, but because I know that there is only one way for a person to run away from themselves and that too is not something that I enjoy thinking about. But I do. And right now I can say that the only thing keeping me from wishing my own death is my faith in God and duty to honor. That's not to say that if God offered me a way out right now that I would hesitate in taking it.
I wish I could run away from myself. I wish I didn't constantly have to hear my own voice criticize me at every step. I wish I could refrain from being angry at myself. I wish I could just pack a bag and leave me behind...because the very fact that I am depressed depresses me even more. But support would take care of that. At least to some extent. But I don't get that. I get the opposite. I get criticized for being depressed...and that just makes it worse.
The one thing that I long for right now is someone that cares enough to give me a shoulder to cry on and a willingness to listen. All I ask for is someone that loves me enough to be willing to make the small sacrifice of their heart to show me that I am worth something to them. All I desire is to be treated like I'm worth something to someone and that there is hope for the future. All I need is for someone to do unto me as they know I would do unto them if they were in my place. But, for so many, asking for that is like asking them to lend me thirty million dollars. And that reaction makes things even worse because it doesn't seem to me that I'm asking for a lot...a hand on my frickin shoulder, an honest-to-God hug, a willingness to do me a favor, or even just a little time to talk about happier things. But when no one will, it makes me hate myself more.
I lurk around a few depression boards on the internet and read what others have to say, and I think it's definitely one of those things that many that suffer from depression most desperately need. True depression is faceless, it has no "reason" aside from the fact that God has, for whatever reason, decided to curse some poor soul with that demon. It is horrible to go through, horrible to know that even if you pull yourself out of one episode that it could very well jump at you a day, a week, a month, or years later. It's always there, and it's always ready to leer its ugly head, and it's at those times -- whenever they might be -- that a person suffering from depression needs their loved ones the most...and it seems that it's at that time that friends and family seem to distance themselves from the one suffering. It is a shame, it really is. I mean, I can understand the way that people would want to stay away from me when I am having an episode, I can understand their desire to run away from me even...God knows I understand, because when I'm having an episode I wish I could run away from myself. I do.
I don't enjoy hating myself and my life. I don't enjoy the inability to find any joy in my life. I don't enjoy the thought of having my friends and family brought down because I am down. I don't enjoy the feeling of total apathy towards everything or the dread of opening my eyes in the morning and getting out of bed. I don't enjoy wishing harm to myself. I don't enjoy wishing I had never been born. I don't enjoy feeling as though I am worthless, always have been, and always will be. I don't. I don't enjoy any of it...and not just because I have the inability to enjoy much of anything either, but because I know that there is only one way for a person to run away from themselves and that too is not something that I enjoy thinking about. But I do. And right now I can say that the only thing keeping me from wishing my own death is my faith in God and duty to honor. That's not to say that if God offered me a way out right now that I would hesitate in taking it.
I wish I could run away from myself. I wish I didn't constantly have to hear my own voice criticize me at every step. I wish I could refrain from being angry at myself. I wish I could just pack a bag and leave me behind...because the very fact that I am depressed depresses me even more. But support would take care of that. At least to some extent. But I don't get that. I get the opposite. I get criticized for being depressed...and that just makes it worse.
The one thing that I long for right now is someone that cares enough to give me a shoulder to cry on and a willingness to listen. All I ask for is someone that loves me enough to be willing to make the small sacrifice of their heart to show me that I am worth something to them. All I desire is to be treated like I'm worth something to someone and that there is hope for the future. All I need is for someone to do unto me as they know I would do unto them if they were in my place. But, for so many, asking for that is like asking them to lend me thirty million dollars. And that reaction makes things even worse because it doesn't seem to me that I'm asking for a lot...a hand on my frickin shoulder, an honest-to-God hug, a willingness to do me a favor, or even just a little time to talk about happier things. But when no one will, it makes me hate myself more.
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