“You can
get through this.”
7:01.
“You can
get through this.”
I tell
myself the same thing every morning, preparing for long days and even longer
nights. In a word, it’s tough. But hey, that’s mental health.
Usually I’m
tentative about using the ‘d’ word, but I guess today’s a good a day as any to
start. Depression is life-changing, consuming, that little bugger in your head
dictating your mood.
Some of you
may already know that I’m a sufferer. I have a private account where I discuss these things
in more detail, but this is the first time I’ve ever admitted it to an audience
of potentially 1,000. Chances my hand will hover tentatively over my trackpad
before sharing this whilst my heart gallops up my throat and into my mouth.
There’s not
a lot I can contribute that hasn’t already been said before. It is like wearing a shroud, a heavy one at
that. You’re essentially weighed down until your knuckles are scraping along
the floor.
Depression
doesn’t stop at ‘mental illness’. It impacts every single detail in your life.
Sometimes
you don’t even bother getting out of bed. Waking up can leave you fatigued. I
know my own room is simultaneously the safest place on Earth, and the scariest
ten square feet to be within.
You lose
your appetite, enjoyable times become numb experiences. It drives you insane.
One thing I
hate most about it is its effect on my work productivity. I shy away from
commitments, I lose all belief in my abilities, motivation is drained from my
body. I have so many ideas for articles, really vivid ones. I sit down to write
them. Boom. Nothing. It kills me that I know I’m capable of so much more, and I'm terrified that I might lose my skills forever.
If anyone I
write for is reading this, I’m sorry if I’ve let you down. If any of my uni
lecturers are reading this, I’m sorry if I’ve not been working to a standard I
know I can reach.
Every day I
try and muster the energy to carry on. I test my own strength. Sometimes I win,
sometimes I lose. Even victory is bitter, tainted by the fears and worries
already implanted in the mind.
This isn’t
just a story about my own struggles though. It’s a call to arms.
Everyone
can help. Talking is the greatest comfort you can offer to a friend in need. Not
everyone is comfortable heading to counsellors or with medication.
Do what you
can to help those around you. We all need each other.
Much love,
Sean
