What Depression Really Feels Like

I did not make this blog entry to offend anyone or go against anything. And everything I state in here is from my experience therefore which gives my own definition of what depression really is and I don't assume that everything I say should be what is followed or believed in.

Two weeks ago, I got an ask.fm question from a someone who went as an anonymous but I already knew who she was and she said. "I'm depressed. :(" I don't really want to be too hard on her but knowing her, she's one of those people who exaggerate their sadness into being depressed because they know saying they're depressed would make it more, I don't know, defined? Maybe now you’re wondering why such little thing ticked me off. And besides, she’s my friend I should cut her some slack. It’s because I’m suffering from depression myself and I hate how they’d commit that mistake, it appears as offensive to me because I look or listen to them and think to myself how thankful they should be that it is not depression. I wanted to ask them that isn’t it weird that they tell themselves that they are depressed and then after a moment or two, they’re fine again. You see, that is not depression my dear.

My depression was the root of peer pressure from my family and my friends. I was scared to tell anyone about my struggles because that’s not what they have perceived me to be, known to be the bubbly person I thought I had to be that at all times. It felt as if I wasn’t able to feel sad. Unfortunately, I turned to self harm. I slashed wrists. People have wondered why “sad people” do it all the time, let me tell you, it’s like drinking alcohol too because you get to forget your problems and all the emotional pain by inflicting it physically on yourself. After that I engaged in different kinds of self harm, most of them emotional pain. When I’m sad, instead of doing things to cheer up myself I would find ways into which I would feel sadder and sadder. Then there came a time when I forgot how to be happy.

There sure was guilt in me during that time because I’ve been surrounded by amazing people in my life, parents who give everything I please, a sister who is always there to guide me, and friends that would be there for me at all times. I know they all wanted to support me even in my darkest but I don’t want to let them, I want to be the only one to battle my demons and I don’t want them near anyone I loved. I had those days when I’d laugh a lot and enjoy but I never really felt happy. At the end of the day, I was empty, still.

I started having insomnia. I didn’t sleep. My dad would get furious about how would I stay up late for pointless stuff and my excuse would be simply “I can’t sleep” and that’s true. Like today, it’s already 12:46 in the morning and it feels as if I just woke up. I get myself preoccupied by writing stories, blogging, social networking and watching old movies. There are those terrible mornings when something would flashback and I’d cry quietly. As soon as I stepped high school, everybody thought it was over. But it wasn’t. Now, I’m an incoming college sophomore. Imagine how long I’ve been hiding these feelings.

That’s not the all of it. I just wanted to express how depression isn’t as simple as feeling blue because your significant other won’t talk to you or a bad grade, it’s way way worse.