I hate you. I hate you for what you’ve done & continue to do. I hate you for who you’ve hurt & continue to hurt. I hate you because you are you – an invisible weighted cloak; an off-radar, black storm cloud; a high-frequency cry for help that most humans cannot hear; a mythical diagnosis… Your elusive essence is what upsets me the most! Why me? Why them?? Why only a select few???
You first appeared in early adolescence – I was only in middle school and in the throws of puberty. My developmental state & the particular life events that forced me to face my own mortality at too early an age caused the lot of us to believe that you were ‘circumstantial’.
If only I… improved my physical state of health; changed schools; made the ‘right’ friends; built a stellar college resume; had a boyfriend; got rid of my acne; got reconstructive surgery; was happier with my appearance; got into the ‘right’ sorority; partied harder; took more risks; did more traveling; went to a ‘better’ college; had ‘better’ friends; put my attention elsewhere; was more selfless; was able to help more people; was able to save more money; had a ‘better’ job; moved someplace else; was closer to the one I loved; was dating someone else all together; invested in counseling; found the ‘right’ counselor; invested in self-help; worked harder at self-help; invested in supplemental healthcare; admitted my mistakes; figured out how to be a ‘better’ person… If only I changed , my life would feel better; & you would be gone! Or, so I thought… and, at times, still like to believe.
The sad truth is that most folks that know me don’t really know me, because they don’t know you. If they did, they might run the other way! You’re wrought with stigma. You’re often seen as the result of a weak will or character deficit. Those of us that claim you are made to defend your very existence, so as not to be branded by our inability to independently manage you – to simply ‘get over it’; ‘look on the bright side’; ‘stop the melodrama’; ‘suck it up!’
Good thing I know how to keep you hidden or (at least) how to disguise you. You live behind the masks that I wear & the anger I have come to wield. I’ve worked hard to prevent you from ruining my reputation, yet, your very nature oftentimes prevents me from being seen & heard. You encourage isolation & withdrawal, self-doubt & self-harm. You feed a vicious cycle that, in turn, feeds you:
(FEELING) You cause me to feel sad & (ultimately) hopeless. (THOUGHT) You fill my mind with doubtful thoughts – ‘What’s wrong with me? My life is horrible. I can’t stand feeling this way!’ (ACTION) You encourage me to stay in bed, distract, numb, & avoid all that requires effort. Under the spell of this cognitive-behavioral catch 22, my brain chemistry worsens; I’ve got even fewer endorphins in my court. So, this downward spiral perpetuates: (FEELING) I am genuinely fatigued – feeling run down & lacking the energy necessary to invest in self-care. I’m irritable, confused & ashamed. (THOUGHT) I reason, ‘Will I ever feel any better?? This is hopeless…’ (ACTION) I keep to myself. I skip meals or binge on unhealthy foods. I’m largely sedentary. I discontinue efforts toward a wholehearted life & aim to stay numb… Work performance suffers; relationships suffer; self-image suffers; biochemistry suffers yet, you thrive!
The worst part about life with you is that despite all of this insight – all of the logical solutions to minimizing your effects, not to mention the degree in psychology I went in search of – you have literally infiltrated my mind & my body. You have reinforced unhelpful schemas & harmful behaviors for years on end. You’ve been a part of my life for so long, in fact, I fear that you truly have influenced my character & my will. You’ve certainly seized my idealism & rose-colored glasses…
Depression, hear me when I profess that I will never give-up the only life I’m certain to have as a result of the garbage you put in my mind’s eye, nor will I allow your physical weight to keep me down & out. I would never give you an excuse to take host inside of those that my suicide might harm, because I hate you. I hate you for all that you’ve done & all that you do; and I refuse to let evil prevail.
Female, Age 35
Clinical Depression, among other things