Another day of Apathy

Sitting on the couch with my computer, procrastinating from what I really need to do, only to continue living my pointless existence. I wish I was physically sick, or I had a broken leg or something. That way at least I would be justified in being lazy. Then people would see that I’m sick and not presume I’m fine.

I feel like I’m trapped, silently screaming into the empty abyss that surrounds me. I've got no choice but to continue on. I’m trapped between faking my happiness, which is commonplace for me, and being honest about my sadness, which would expose my weaknesses for the world to judge.

 I’m terrified that people will judge me, when it seems like I have so little to be depressed about. I’m terrified that being honest will make me feel even more alone. I don’t have that many friends, and I’m worried they will abandon me. Why should I burden others with my problems when I could end up being more isolated than before?  

I have no idea why but I’m suddenly filled with rage, towards everyone and everything. I hate everyone who makes it look easy to live, to exist. Why is it so difficult for me? I am powerless to help myself, when I've tried for so long and nothing has worked.

 I feel like I’m trapped in this existence which isn't going to change. I wonder if I’ll ever be happy, if it’s possible that one day I can leave my depression behind, but right now it seems impossible to imagine...

Unforeseen act of kindness

Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around.

- Leo Buscaglia 

I’ll start off by saying I’ve had a horrible few weeks. I’m not sure what has changed but recently I’ve been feeling really down. Yesterday I was completely stressed out and anxious because I hadn’t finished an assignment for my class (at university) and I just couldn’t do it. I struggled all week, desperate to concentrate but to no avail. It seems that unless you have depression, it is near impossible to understand why it takes such an enormous effort to get out of bed and complete tasks that others take for granted.  For lack of a better analogy, it’s like sinking in quicksand while you struggle to get out.

The assignment was due in 24 hours and I felt like giving up. On a whim, I contacted a friend of a friend who had previously offered to help since he knew the topic well but I wasn’t expecting a miracle. I assumed that he would be too busy to help me and I would be wasting my time. I honestly felt that since we weren’t close friends that he would have no incentive to help me.

However he spent over two hours with me re-writing my essay. He gave me insight into what was important and what key points I should cover. Even now, he has no idea about my depression and no idea that I was struggling so badly. But his act of kindness changed my whole day, my whole week and even my whole month. As cliché as it sounds, he helped me to restore some faith that people care for others. He still has no idea how his act of kindness has impacted me.

I just wanted people to know that no matter how insignificant you think an act of kindness is, it may be of paramount significance to the person you’re helping. I’m not a religious person but I believe strongly in “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you”. Has anyone else experienced an act of kindness in a moment of despair that meant a great deal to them?

My Story

So at 4am and countless thoughts running through my mind, I've decided to start a blog. Where to begin? I'm posting anonymously because many of my friends and family are unaware of my problems. I'm a 23 year old girl who has been battling severe depression since my mid-teens. From the outside, no one could ever guess that I'm suffering, especially my family.

I have been going to therapy on and off since I was diagnosed, and I was hospitalised when I was 19 for self harming and suicidal tendencies. I feel like I've been through or am going through everything that comes along with depression: self-harming, alcohol abuse, eating problems and drug use.

I go to great lengths to conceal my sickness and however illogical that I know this is, I can't seem to stop. I'm an expert at concealing my emotions to protect others from the hell and suffering that is within my head. I don't want anyone to know that I'm sad because I don't feel like I have the right to be depressed.  I have so much to be grateful for, and yet I choose to self destruct.

Ever since I was young, I never told others if I was hurt or sad.. I just dealt with it myself.  I don't want to burden others with what I feel are insignificant problems. Lately I've realised that I lack the capacity to talk to people about how I feel, and so I have become increasingly isolated and lonely.

I feel like there is a constant struggle between the logical side in my head, which tells me everything I know to be correct, and my depression. Does anyone else feel like this? Or am I more alone than even I thought..