Wednesday, February 19, 2014

Depression Is Not Me

I have depression, but depression is not me.

Depression knows me. It knows me very well. Well enough that it can take my greatest fears and strongest vulnerabilities and use them as daggers to my soul. Depression knows my weak points, and knows just where and how to cut.

Depression is a parasite that latches onto my mind and fills it with smog. Depression's only goal is to drain me of my joy, my energies, and my life.

Depression does not care for me. It may attempt to convince me that it is only looking out for my best interests, that it is trying to be "realistic" or "cautious", but it is a liar. Depression only cares about making me suffer, and will do everything to make that happen.

Depression will try to convince me that it doesn't exist. It will try to convince me that all the problems that are happening are caused by me and me alone, and as such I can only blame myself. Depression does exist, and it is making me have these thoughts.

Depression tries to isolate me. It tries to make me believe I am alone in the world, knowing that if I believe that I will unconsciously work to make it so. It knows that if I have support, if I have the presence of others to comfort and aid me and show me I am not the only one fighting it, its presence is tremendously weaker.

Depression begins with sickness and entrenches itself through habit. It repeats the thoughts it sends into my mind in the hope that after enough times I will begin to use those thoughts on myself without its encouragement. Its ultimate goal is that I will do its job for it.

Depression is merciless. It does not pity, it does not let up. Depression will never respond to begs and pleas for it to stop. The only way depression can be stopped is by fighting back, with therapy, medication, support, and yes, my own choices.

Depression never fully goes away, just as the temptation to drink never leaves for an alcoholic and cancer goes into remission but is never fully gone. It will always be there, and it always has the potential to come back. When I fight against depression, I do not seek to remove it, because it cannot be removed. I seek to minimize its effects that it no longer hinders my daily life. I can make it smaller and smaller and smaller but it will never fully go away.

And that is fine, because I am not defined by my depression, because my depression is not me. I can live a full and happy life while still having depression. I can still succeed with its presence looming over me. I can still get better when it is trying to make me worse. I can always get better.

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