Wisdom from the Trenches

With so many speaking up about mental health struggles, the world is trying to raise awareness and fight the stigma. This blog joins a cacophony of voices that speak candidly about depression, anxiety, post traumatic stress disorder, and other mental health struggles. As the conversation unfolds, as we continue to call attention to this very important issue, as we create a space where individuals who are struggling can feel safe to speak up, and as we share symptoms to watch for in ourselves and others, I want to highlight one very important point: Depression can be very obvious at times…and depression can hide out in the open. There are times you might see it, take notice, and be able to seek help or support someone. And there are times it will blindside people. You simply won’t see it coming because it will creep in like a ninja.

When depression first began to surface in my life, I felt numb in the aftermath of trauma. I struggled with sleep disturbances, anger, irritability, I did not eat enough, I lost weight, and I dealt with abdominal issues and frequent physical pain. I looked far more troubled than I looked depressed. My problematic behavior was off-putting to others, especially those I deemed safe enough to target with my misplaced rage. I didn’t seem depressed because I didn’t appear sad. As a society, when we think depressed, we think melancholy. Our mind conjures up images of a dejected Eeyore, with his own little grey raincloud. We expect to see tears. So imagine the confusion when the tears not only don’t fall, but they can’t fall – because a person is also in shock from trauma or feels the need to stuff their more vulnerable emotions so others won’t view them as weak and take advantage of them when they are down. Like prey animals, they hide their illness in plain sight, masking it with more aggressive emotions, high levels of independence and aloofness, and self control taken to the extreme. This is the face of depression.

There came a point, years later while in counseling, that I could not stop crying. I was grieving my past. I was heartbroken over my reality. I exhibited classic signs of depression: lack of energy, feelings of despair/sadness, detachment from everyday life, fragile emotions, a lack of joy, and suicidal ideation. Even though this is what we are taught to look for as a society, my depression was invalidated at every turn. I was told I needed to eat healthier, have some caffeine, get more sleep, stop being lazy, forgive and forget, keep a gratitude journal, search for the positive and stop focusing on the negative. Looking back, it is odd to me that very few people identified my feelings as depression, or recommended a doctor, therapist, and/or medication! And yet, this is the classic definition and most commonly taught manifestation of depression.

I graduated from counseling, moved to a brand new place, actively sought out new friends, traveled, laughed, LIVED. I spent good days teaching my kids. I posted happy pictures on Facebook. I kept a gratitude journal, ate healthy, hiked all sorts of adventurous trails, saw the most beautiful scenery, accomplished major goals. And when I was alone, I sat and stared at a wall – unmovable, unresponsive, unhappy. For hours out of each day. I didn’t cry. I didn’t rage. I didn’t feel. I sat numbly, staring at nothing in particular, with silence so deafening in my head that it drowned everything else out. At night, I would stare up at where the ceiling ought to be, if not obscured by darkness, in the same manner. I forgot to eat. I couldn’t work up the energy to accomplish anything. I went for days without showering. I wished I would die. On social media, I looked fine. At home, my children pleaded with me to do something – anything. This is also the face of depression.

I started medication and stayed on it this time. I finally regained the energy to fully live! I experience JOY in my soul over the smallest things. I laugh long and hard with friends and family. I travel again, heading off on adventures I never thought possible. I look up at the ceiling often…to talk to God. We chat about everyday life. I drink coffee and eat healthy and exercise and keep a gratitude journal and accomplish goals and pack more things into a day than most people can fathom and always, Always, ALWAYS search for the positive and avoid focusing on the negative. I smile. I post happy memories on Facebook and they are genuinely happy moments. I cry when I need to, but it doesn’t consume me. I express my anger in healthier ways so it doesn’t consume others. I meditate and do yoga, to become more aware of my feelings, to regulate my breath, to ground myself, to tone muscle, to focus my mind. But sometimes, every so often, I have a bad day…or two…or two consecutive weeks of bad days, where the sun doesn’t seem to shine very brightly…and it knocks me off kilter. I struggle to regain balance and to stabilize my mental health, but I continue to fake it until I make it. Because I am usually a stable, happy, well-adjusted person…but I sometimes still struggle with my mental health, despite the fact that I am doing all the things on a regular basis. Because this is life sometimes. Because sometimes, the face of depression wears a smile to mask the pain.

Depression isn’t always easy to spot. Depression isn’t formulaic in the way it manifests. Depression isn’t one size fits all. Sometimes, the symptoms are blatant and obvious. Sometimes, the symptoms are not even close to what we were taught they would be. Sometimes, we never see the symptoms at all…unless the person speaks up.