Non-Depressed People Are Not Depressed

You know what's wrong with people who aren't depressed?
They aren't depressed.

What a mind-blowing statement, right?
Give me a minute, I have my reasons for posing that question.

In the past week or so, I've been thinking a lot about depression.  As one does, when they struggle with it.  Because it's there, all the time.  It's your constant companion.  It lies to you, telling you that you just lack motivation, or that you're lazy, that you lack value as an individual.  That how you feel, that sluggishness, that constant fog in your head, isn't depression...it's just you.

To quote something I read on the internet:
"[Depression] is like fighting a war where the enemy's strategy is to convince you that the war isn't actually happening."

For.  Fucking.  Real.

And I suppose the sentiment behind my opening question isn't just something that can be applied to depression alone, but to anything out there that one person has dealt with or experienced, and someone else has not.
Because I can talk to my family until I'm blue in the face about being depressed.  About how it sucks motivation out of everything.  How waking up is a struggle in and of itself.  On how it makes me suck at my job, or feel like I'm less than a whole person because my brain chemicals are so fucked up.  But as much as I talk, they will never understand.
Do you know why?
Because none of them have ever been depressed.

And sure, while some try to practise empathy (and usually fail at it), others are just of the mindset of "get over it!"  Or "motivate yourself anyway!"  Or "stop using it as a crutch!"  Or my late favourite "don't have kids until you're clear of depression!"

What the actual fuck.

I have come to an epiphany in the past few days of why I share so little of my personal life with most of my family members...but that's for another time.  Though their closed-mindedness, lack of empathy, and lack of trying to understand as much as they possibly can without having experienced depression themselves, definitely adds to why I don't share much.

In the past year or so, I have come to understand that I know nothing about the vast expanse of how incredible grace really is, and how much it covers.
And while grace was discussed and even taught about at church growing up, in thinking about my childhood, the way in which I was raised, even certain beliefs, ideals, and attitudes some of my family members have, I have come to see that grace isn't always freely given (by people, that is).  It is a prettily packaged concept that sounds good when being talked about, but is poorly practised.  And I myself have been extremely guilty of that...though I am trying to get better at giving grace to others.

And the fact that we live in a fallen world where death and disease and evil exist.  If someone can have the flu, and that is a clear sign of an effect the fall of Adam had, why can't mental illness - depression - be a sign as well?  Because that is just as real as cancer.
And life itself is very complex and hard to understand at times.  So yes, while Christ is our healer, that does not mean that healing is guaranteed every time you pray for it.  Do I believe that God can heal anything?  Most definitely!  Do I believe that God can heal every time?  Of course!  But will God heal everything, every time is a different question...and one I don't have an answer to.  I don't think anyone has an answer to that, to be honest.

It is incredibly...frustrating.  Degrading.  Hurtful...to have people in my life who love me, but who cannot understand that depression is something that I have to learn to live with.  Because that is my reality, and there is absolutely no cure.  No way to change it.

I did not choose to live with this demon.
I did not choose for my brain to be so hyperactive and to be in constant torture and torment at every waking hour because my brain does not stop, but it is also doused in a heavy fog, where simple words are easily forgotten, where I am mentally and physically exhausted all the time, and my energy supply drains simply by existing.
And yet, people think that if I motivate myself enough, it'll be enough of a distraction to forget I'm sad all the time.  Or that, magically, if I pray hard enough or some shit like that, depression will disappear forever!  Rather than acknowledging that mental illness is as much of a result of the fall as any physical ailment is, and just like death, you cannot defeat depression.

I hate my life.
I hate that every day I'm not only tired when I wake up, but I'm wiped. out. at the end of the day, because I'm constantly fighting.  Fighting my thoughts from racing all the time, fighting brain fog to try to think clearly enough to do normal things, fighting sadness and struggling to not give in.
I don't want my life to be this way.
If I could, I would sell my soul to not be sad all the time.
But I can't.
And that's my reality.
That is my life.
A constant struggle, a never-ending battle of a war that feels like it's not happening.

And some days, it just feels like it would be best, easiest, it would save me so much grief and heartache, if I just gave in and put a stop to the battle.
Surrender.
End it for good.

But, (as I think) unfortunately, it is my nature to fight.
And so I continue to do so.
Day after day.
Wearing myself down.
But somehow still finding fight left within me.

It is so very much a struggle.
A struggle in which I am alone.
It has always been that way; and it always will.

And so it goes.