My Friendship with Depression

I want to start this article this with a recommendation, a book that has helped me through tough times: it's called Reasons to Stay Alive by Matt Haig. This book made me cry every time; it was like the writer knew exactly how I felt and knew how I wanted to feel. I strongly recommend it to people who, like me, struggle with depression. It helps to know that you are not alone. I hope that will help anyone who reads it and I hope you will be okay. Be strong, always.

Depression is a big monster that comes into your life, you don't have a choice, you have to accept it. But, depression to me is like an old friend, he comes and visits without giving me a warning. He just fucks my whole day, makes me feel worthless, lonely, empty and sometimes he comes with suicidal thoughts. And yet, depression is a really big part of my life and as much as I don't want it to be, it's one of the biggest parts.

I always knew there was something different in me. Since I was a kid I wasn't like the others. A memory that I had blocked for a long time came back to me a couple of years ago: the first time I thought about suicide. I was 10, it's not something you would think at that age but I did; it was a hard time for my family and that was the first time that I told myself: What would happen if I kill myself right now?

Why would a kid have that kind of thought? When I remembered, I was shocked, I felt so sad and really lonely, there are no words to explain it.

What you need to know about me is that no one would never think I could be depressed because when people see me they think I'm always happy, always in a good mood, confident, and just full of life. They only see the part I want them to, the part that I wish it was true. Reality is far from that. Reality to me is spending entire days in bed because I can't find the strength to get up and do something; reality is thinking about death and suicide most days; reality for a while was living in London and not being okay but just wanting to spend my days in bed, crying, watching Netflix, eating (or not eating at all), sleeping (or not sleeping at all).

And repeat.

Again and again and again.

Reality sucks.

People never see underneath all of this. As much as I would want to keep my depression a secret, sometimes I just want someone that tells me that everything is going to be okay and that I am not alone. But it’s not like this; most people tell you to just stop doing stuff that makes you sad, or just do stuff you like... it’s not that easy. I lived in my favorite city for a long time and that was the worst kind of depression I had in my whole life. I was happy but at the same time depressed. I don’t even know how that works: some days I was just full of happiness and life, other days I wanted to be dead. It didn’t get easier after leaving that city, I just got used to it.

It's hard to have a simple life. It's harder when you also struggle with anxiety and/or paranoia. Seeing yourself in the mirror and feeling horrible, disgusting, and worthless. You feel like everyone that looks at you thinks the same and it stops you from doing things and having relationships. It’s just hard.

I don't know how I am going to feel tomorrow when I wake up. Am I going to be depressed? Am I going to have anxiety? Or am I going to be okay? We'll see.