Even psychologists and psychiatrists who specialize in depression often don’t understand it. What it’s like.
For me, Closest to understanding it is an analogy:
Everyone has a certain, “default” level of innate happinesses. Where they normally are. They can get quite happy, or very sad, but it tends to self-correct and swing back to that normal level. Up, down, back and forth, above and below that average line for them. Throughout their life.
If they are lucky, and work hard, they can slowly increase the happiness baseline.
But for chronic depressives, it doesn’t self correct. It can tend sad, and not swing back. Partially back, but then the baseline is lower. And it can slowly, very slowly, trend lower over time. The baseline. It doesn’t self correct.
Until one day it is so low, you can’t pull it back up, no matter what you do. A little higher, but it sinks lower again, soon. Lower and lower. Until it’s like you’re always walking through deep mud, mentally. The self correction is broken. By the time you realize something’s wrong, it’s too late to get out of it...so it seems.
Drugs can help, but they are very different for different people. Some work, most don’t. Trial and error, which...takes energy amd effort. That you don’t have.
You don’t eat, or over eat, and don’t care. People stop bathing, stop combing their hair, and don’t care. We know we should, but it’s just so damn hard and takes so much effort. You don’t want to be around anyone, but desperately want company too. Like you’re outside a room, looking in through a window at the happy people. Wanting to be one, but how? Exercise helps, but it’s so much effort just starting. You can sit on the couch all day in the dark, trying to get up the energy to just get up and walk outside...
It’s awful.
You summed it up perfectly. You and I are exactly alike.
I’m at the point where I don’t care about anything. If it weren’t for my elderly mother and my beloved doggies and Maine Coon Cat, I would live in bed.
I’m currently very interested in the case of Christine Chubbock, a former Reporter for a Sarasota, Florida TV station.In 1974, she made history by shooting herself in the head on the air.
Chubbock suffered from severe Clinical Depression for years and therapy and meds didn’t help. When I read and watch videos about Chubbock, I feel such an empathy with her. I understand her desperation.
My older sister also suffers from Clinical Depression. She stayed in bed for several years and still struggles mightily to keep going.
My sister and I suffered from trauma when we were growing up. I believe our Depression battles are a combination of hereditary issues and our messed up experiences.
I thank you for your thoughtful, insightful post. You perfectly described the Hell that depression sufferers endure.
Agreeded