I don't know how to start this blog post. I don't know if I'll be able to fully grasp how much depression sucks with a couple paragraphs. I don't know if I'll do myself or anybody else struggling with depression justice with this blog post, but it's become important for me to talk about it and so I think it's important to blog about it.
I went to a psychiatrist for the first time in my life two weeks ago. Before I went, a friend told me they thought I could get through this without medication. My partner thought that when I had a massive breakdown after a couple drinks, I was being dramatic. My boss wrote me up for substandard work. Let me be completely clear about this--it is hard to survive a single day with depression. It seeps into your bones and makes you ache. It makes you cry yourself to sleep at night out of sheer loneliness, even though there might be a warm body two feet away. It makes you slow and foggy. It makes you scream out loud in your sleep. It makes brushing your teeth and washing your hair a hassle, and sometimes it makes you wish everything would just end.
A couple weeks ago, I started telling everyone that I was depressed. I told my students. I told my partner. I told my supervisors and colleagues. People didn't rush to scoop me out of this massive depression I've found myself in, but they listened and they heard me, which was enough. I've stopped taking responsibility for my moods and my unproductiveness because I know that I'm doing the best I can with ADHD, generalized anxiety disorder, depression, and PTSD. I've stopped faking positive emotions and am trying to accept my feelings of sadness at face value. I've also stopped pretending that I can get out of this on my own.
With great, exhausting effort, I have begun to hoist myself up from the bottomless pit of all this. I ordered vitamin supplements (shoutout to care/of and their customizable supplements), I scheduled an appointment to see a psychiatrist, I started taking medication, started spending time outside by myself, started making plans with friends, signed up for Audible for not one, but two books a month because doing so makes me happy. At this point in my life, I can't waste another minute in this hellhole of depression. Every thing I do right now is with the intention of saving myself. Little by little, I am starting to feel good again. I know there will be days where I feel sad as dirt. I know there will be days where I relive my trauma over and over again, but if I can start to carve out grooves in the walls of this depression, I will be able to climb out. I deserve to climb out.
As I start this journey, I will be sharing resources that have been useful for me on the blog and Instagram. If you know of anything that can be of help to folks suffering from depression or anxiety, tag the blog at @fabfeministblog so we can share these resources with our readers, too. If you have found that you, too, are in the hole, remember that you have fierce supporters in Giuls and me. Send an email to firstname.lastname@example.org if you need to. Don't let the stigma keep you from healing. Depression and anxiety do not discriminate and you deserve happiness.