A Day in the Life of Depression

What does depression look like? Does it look like 3 aM nights crying because you just want the hurting to stop? Sometimes. Does it look like lashing out on your friends and family because the pain inside you hurts so much you don't even know what to do anymore? Again, sometimes. Here's what it looks like in a day.

Depression starts as soon as that alarm goes off. You hear the annoying noise, buzzing you to get up. But you can't even bring yourself to move to turn it off. Depression drags you down, the energy sucked from even the simplest of movements. Reaching.

When the battle of turning off your alarm is won, now it's time for possibly the biggest battle of today. Getting out of bed. You know the dog needs to be taken out, you know your little sister running around downstairs will need to be taken care of while Mom is at work. You also will need to eat at some point. But you can't move. You're drowning in the late-night tears of your still-damp pillow from the crying the night before. Aren't you supposed to wake up refreshed? All you can feel is the sting in your eyes from another sleepless night spent crying about everything.

You hear your sister call up to you, asking for breakfast. You can barely croak out a reply. Three times of calling you later, you heave yourself out of bed.

Getting dressed. Now you have to worry about getting dressed. You wade through the mess in your room, dirty clothes that should have been washed weeks ago and find the least-offensive smelling article of clothing you can and manage to put it on. Somehow.

You grab the dog, which takes much effort, and shuffle down the steps, one at a time. Moving any faster than that today might make you throw up.

Your sister greets you at the bottom, a ball full of energy you envy each day. You watch as she bounces around the room like a puppy happy to see their owner. You wonder what it would feel like to even have an ounce of the happiness she has in her body.

Fixing her breakfast and taking out the dog, you have to take care of yourself.

Food sounds awful, and the thought makes your stomach turn. But you know you have to eat.

Maybe after a shower. The thought sounds daunting.

Making your way into the bathroom, you stare at yourself in the mirror. Hollow eyes stare back.

You don't even recognize yourself, you try to blink away the zombie you know you've become. But your reflection only blinks back, growing more tired each time you open your eyes to see, that this is really what you look like.

Your teeth hurt. They haven't been brushed in a while. You turn on the water and stare as it goes down the drain. Part of you wishes you could follow it, down, down. Away from this life. Away from pain. The sink water runs red as your teeth bleed from lack of cleaning. A better reminder of how bad you are at keeping clean. A better reminder of your depression.

Your hair stands as a poof on your head, badly needing to be brushed. It falls out in clumps now. You grab a brush and try to tackle the mess. It's the first time you've touched your hair in a while too. When you have depression, the last thing you're concerned about is combing your hair.

Once the deed is done, you look in the brush. You could clothe a small dog with the amount of hair that's fallen off your head. You're afraid to look in the mirror, because you might not have any hair left on your head.

Leaving that behind, you turn towards the shower. You haven't won this battle in three weeks. Yes, weeks. A shower to you is a trek up Mount Everest for some. But since you've already brushed your hair you might as well try to conquer this beast as well. You're on a roll today. Why stop now?

The shower water hits you, way too hot. It's the most feeling you've felt in months. You weren't sure anything could reach into the shell you've become to make you feel again.

When the shower is complete, you stand naked and wet in the bathroom, wondering how you can muster up the energy to get re-dressed again. That's twice today you've done this and you're not sure how much more energy you have left to exert on something as trivial as clothing. You have to save some for important things... like breathing.

Once that is done, now you have pretty much the whole day left to sit. And think. The worst type of thing to do when all of your thoughts are sad.

You know you still have to eat. And your depression medication is sitting there, needing to be taken. You pick up the bottle, not even wanting to take it anymore and get flashback of the, not one, but the two times you've tried to overdose on pills. After everything happening in your life, it'd be so easy to attempt again. You've done it twice now. You know the amount you'd need to just end it all.

Your hands shake as you take one pill out of the bottle and swallow it. You can't attempt today. You made a promise to your best friend you wouldn't put her through that again. That's one of the only things keeping you here, her and that damn promise you aren't even sure you meant. Right now it sounds so easy to break.

You walk away from the bottle with the sounds of her crying re-playing in your head as she found out you'd attempted. Again.

Speaking of her, your phone lights up as she texts you every morning like always. You wonder briefly what her reaction would be if one day you just didn't answer. The thought intensifies of her crying in your head, and you shake the thought away. Little do you know that her biggest worry when she wakes up in the mornings is if she'll one day just never get an answer from you. She understands that it's a very real possibility and does everything in her power to keep it from happening, even if there's only so much she can do.

Exhausted from all the work you've done today, you flop on the couch ready to either take a nap or cry—maybe both. Then you look at the time. It's barely 9 AM. You've worn yourself out. Before 9 AM.

Guess that's just what happens, a day in the life of depression.

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This post is dedicated to my best friend, who suffers from depression. This is the way I imagine her days go and it must be very hard. I'm worn out just writing about it. I can't imagine living it. She's had a hard life and I do everything I can to make each day for her at least a little more bearable. I hope I do well.

If you're also suffering from depression, I hope you understand that there are people who love you and ending your precious life is not the answer. I hoped that with writing this I can make some people understand, and help some people feel not so alone. Reach out. Talk to someone. I know tons of people have said this before me and tons after me will too. I know it's hard. I suffer myself. But I also came out the other side as a better individual. And I never could have done that if I ended my life. Please, in times of weakness think about what you are doing before you do it.

And if anything, don't do it. Don't end your life. You're put into this world for a reason. And you should not be taken out by your own hand.

Suicide hotline: 1-800-273-8255