When Depression Hits at 12:30AM

It’s 12:30 in the fucking morning, and I’m about .2 seconds from balling my eyes out.

Scratch that.

The waterworks have begun.

Why?  I couldn’t tell you.  That’s the worst fucking part.

One of the hardest parts of depression is knowing something is wrong, but not knowing what that something is.  You don’t know how to fix it, you don’t know what will help or what will make you feel better.  You don’t want to talk, you don’t want to be touched.  Half the time I don’t even want to be asked if I’m okay – because I don’t feel like lying.

But as I sit here at my desk, letting these tears out that have been clawing at my eyes since 10AM this morning, I wish I was stronger.  I wish I was brave enough to talk about my demons, to work through them, to confront them.

All I could think about today was crawling back into bed.  Hiding away under about 50 blankets and watching way too many hours of Netflix.  Turning off my phone, turning off the world.  Avoiding any and all responsibilities and human contact.

It’s been (what feels like) a long time since I’ve let feelings like this take over.  It’s been awhile since I’ve sat here and let myself cry, let myself relax.  I’ve been suppressing feelings for a long time now – I’ve been pushing and pushing them down so I don’t have to face them.

And there’s my biggest problem: I’m afraid of facing my depression.

Having a mental illness isn’t “fun”, it’s not “cool”, or “sad”, or “stylish”.  It’s this: it’s painful, it’s crying in the middle of the night, it’s not being able to sleep because your brain won’t shut off, it’s avoiding responsibilities for no reason at all, it’s watching too much TV, it’s spending too much time on your phone looking at quotes or reading articles, it’s shaking off those harmful thoughts, it’s putting on a brave face for as long as you can, it’s panic attacks in the bathroom at school, it’s hyperventilating under the covers, it’s 3AM walks and really long showers and overthinking until you want to rip your hair out.

Often, the scariest part for me is admitting that I may never be able to beat this thing.  It’s thinking about passing this onto my children someday.  It’s worrying that I’m putting this onto my significant other, my family, my friends.  It’s being terrified of letting people in, simply for fear of losing them. It’s the thought that I might have to take a pill every day for the rest of my life.  It’s the lump in my throat, when I think about how many tears I’ve shed over these demons.

A lot of the time, I don’t want to talk about it.  I don’t want to hear, “just push through, things will get better!”, or “why didn’t you just talk to me about it”, or “I understand what you’re going through”.

I hate when people tell me how to feel.  I hate when I’m told that this is in my hands, and blah blah blah.  Because, you know what?  It’s not.  Unfortunately, there’s a chemical imbalance in my brain that gave me this mental illness.  Do I have any control?  Yes.  I can control how I deal with things, how I work to overcome them… but I can’t always control the way I’m feeling.  It’s not an on and off switch I can just  flip whenever I’m feeling sad.

I never say these things to get pity from others.  I never hide my feelings because I want people to ask questions, or because I want them to make me feel better.  I try my best to wake up in the morning, curl my hair, put on my make up, get dressed, and live my life.  Some days, it’s just easier than others.  It’s easy to hide behind the mask of, “I’m fine”.  It’s easy to look presentable so people don’t ask questions and you don’t have to answer them.

I say these things, I write these things, I post these things – because I’m here to remind someone, ANYONE, that they’re not alone.  That although every form of depression (or any mental illness for that matter) is different, we can all RELATE.  I may not understand exactly what you’re going through, you may not have the perfect words to say to me… but you’re never alone.  Depression may tell you that you’re alone, those demons may scream that no one wants you – but they’re wrong, depression is wrong.

You are loved.  You are worthy.  You are strong.  You are capable.  And you are NOT defined by your mental illness.

It may feel that way when you’re crying over the keys on your laptop at one in the morning… but that doesn’t mean it’s true.

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4 thoughts on “When Depression Hits at 12:30AM

  1. Jacky Dietz says:

    You are a brave woman, I envy our honesty and your awareness of your emotions and at such a young age. I only wish I had that depth of understanding when I was your age. I suffered silently for eleven years before requesting meds. Then 32 years of trial and error. Tears are my friend, when I trust myself to let go of the pretence and allow myself to feel the rawness of emotion I must be alone. What I often forget is that facing my emotions and going straight through the center of the pain, heals. Often the emotions/pain is more prevalent during the quiet hours of the night, probably because all the demands of the day have been met, then I am alone and I think over the conversations in my head and I regret ever saying anything. For years I denied my need for meds. I even went off them for a period of time. It was not good. I was so shut down that I had to have my sister drive me to my psychiatrist. I now joke that in a flood emergency I am grabbing my meds and my sewing machine and heading for higher ground. God bless and thank you Michelle for your blog. Good night.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Healthy Creativity says:

      You have no idea how much this means to me. I admire you in so many ways – and I’m so thankful to see we share so much (even though mental illness is not something I wish upon anyone). YOU are a brave woman. Thank you for being in my life, for loving me and accepting me! I’m so thankful and grateful to have you!

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  2. Brenda Leonard says:

    You writ as if you are looking into my heart and soul , I am dealing with my own demons that no one knows about . I have sooo many medical issuues that are so bad, I can’t deal with it anymore. The fact that I really feel unworthy to breathe is sad and overwhelming – so bad I think about not being here anymore . I have friends that a year ago would ask how I was and I told them how I hurt , how I felt , only they told my man they loved me , but… it seemed I always complained about my problems , my God that broke my heart and so now I smile thru the pain and boldly lie . That tears me apart to know the people I love and hold dear aren’t really there for me! It’s not right or easy to be with them or my man knowing how they feel about me, so I’m keeping it in and it’s killing me . I am on meds and they don’t help , I feel worse than ever before. I am proud of you for sharing this , it helps to know I am not going thru this shit by myself ! I know I need help but have no idea where to start . I apologize fory rant and hope you understand where I’m coming from .

    Like

    • Healthy Creativity says:

      I’m so sorry you are having to go through that and feel all those awful, terrible things. You are stronger than you think though… and even when you don’t feel like it, there are people here for you who can relate to the things you are feeling and be there for you. Keep pushing lady… I love you!

      Like

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