We Need To Talk

Recently, a friend of mine blogged about her experiences with depression. Her blog has led me to think about my own experiences with depression and what I’ve wanted to say about it on a more public basis. I thought her writing online about her experiences was incredibly brave and admirable. It wasn’t that she admitted to having depression that I thought brave, it was that she was so open with how it affected her. While I admit openly and easily that I suffer from depression and have done since a couple of months before my fifteenth birthday, talking about exactly how it affects me is not something I am happy to do with many people.

I have found though, because I admit to easily to having depression, people often assume I’m exaggerating and when I say I have depression they think I mean I get a little sad sometimes. And because I don’t talk about how my depression makes me feel as openly, this seems to support the assumptions I’ve been exaggerating.

Because depression is romanticized in literature and films, I think the general perception of it has fallen into strict categories that are hard to be broken (hard, not impossible). I was once told I didn’t have depression as having depression would prevent me from admitting to it, the shame and the self-loathing would prevent that. Well perhaps that was true in the first two years of my depression when I kept it hidden but once I learnt there was no use hiding that I suffered from it, I didn’t. This doesn’t mean, however, that I suffer any less from it. Knowing that people know it affects me doesn’t help me in my lowest moments. It does mean though I have people to turn to, friends that I am truly grateful to but, again, it doesn’t stop the low moments from occurring.

I think if the care (medical and general) given to those with depression is ever to improve, it’s important that the public perception of it must change. What is most important is that it is understood that depression is an unpredictable and vastly variable affliction and only the sufferer will be able to tell you what to expect in regards to how it affects them. Even then, they’re never going to be able to predict the effects completely accurately and with complete surety. But they will know their own illness much better than any doctor, fellow sufferer or person who has read about another’s experiences. Whether or not they admit to having the illness is, of course, another issue.

If you’re wondering how to support somebody you know with depression, again, I’d say it varies. From my experiences, I’d say talk to them, or rather, let them to talk to you. I believe we need to talk to cope with it and that doesn’t have to be about how we’re feeling, just generally talking, knowing that somebody is there to talk to and who will listen. I’d say, even if you don’t have the energy or the time to listen, just pretend. If I rang a friend who was too busy to listen properly but just let me talk down the phone, I’d still be grateful. Not feeling as if you’re constantly talking to yourself and have nobody to ring, I think, helps and that’s why I think it can be easy to admit you suffer though it’s hard to admit how it makes you feel. If you’re telling people you suffer, you feel like you’re sharing your burden, even if you’re not ready to say how you’re suffering. They can’t stop you from feeling unhappy but they do have the ability to distract you and to let you know you are not alone. It’s knowing you have people who care that helps. It doesn’t stop me getting depressed but it helps. Most importantly, never doubt them when they say they’re suffering. It’s being doubted that makes you feel most alone and it’s feeling completely alone that’s most dangerous.