Describing the dark

I was sent a lovely message this week from someone struggling to understand what their relative, newly diagnosed with depression, is going through. It was a brave and humbling request to get beyond abstract and cold symptom lists and truly get under the skin of suffering. Most people just want to know what to do, but to be courageous enough to climb into the hole was truly touching.

I have to emphasise again that I'm no expert, nor do I speak for anyone else - just me. Apparently my reply was helpful though, and I was encouraged to share it not simply for people who want to understand but to give words to those trying to express themselves. I hope it doesn't come across as over-sharing or indulgent, forgive me if I am overstepping the mark. But on the off-chance someone feels a little less alone I'll risk it.

I wrote this a while ago in the middle of the night to try and give a form to the mess I felt;

It creeps up on you.  

Like a shadow that stalks you subtly until it slowly moves into your light, surrounding you and removing every colour from the landscape one by one.  

It’s amazing how the world can be so grey and so blinding all at once.  

And then you’re claustrophobic and agoraphobic in turn.  

You are desperate for attention and company and comfort but ignore the phone when it rings and turn down invitations.  

The cycle of determined pledges and broken promises starts, progressively fuelling the fire of self loathing.  

You’re too tired to function or to sleep.  

You either starve or binge.  

You self harm with truths of others’ perfect lives and happy futures.  

There is no doubt that everyone else copes with life better than you, and you are broken and weak to feel as you do.  

You know you should count your blessings but when you do you add so many ‘buts’ and footnotes your list is swamped in hopelessness.  

Soon you forget what it was like to walk lightly through each day as your body becomes weighed down with the clouds.  

Sometimes you are strong enough to put on a convincing mask but the more you do the more you become a lie, a fake.  

The more you fail, the less you deserve.  

And the pithy platitudes.  They infuriate you.  

As do the smiles outside and the sun shining. 

Flowers mock you and music grates.  

You can’t keep up with conversation yet the dialogue in your head is unceasing.  

You feel safe hidden away while screaming with sadness at your invisibility.  

Some days you’re ok.  

Normal seems achievable.  

You fit in, no one would know.  

You even laugh a little. 

Think straight for a while.  

You can make plans and breathe evenly.  

But it doesn't last.  

You’re so fragile the smallest thing tips you back into the hole.  

Or maybe nothing does, you just use up all of your happy.

The numb usually wins with occasional despair.  

At best, you find yourself in awe of how the human body can produce so many tears.  

You deliberately look at yourself in the mirror to put a picture to the feeling of bloated eyes and stinging cheeks.

You hope that your own eyes might say something back to you.  

But there’s nothing.  Nothing has changed.  

You would rather feel furious than empty.  

The days go so slowly yet the weeks pass too quickly and you feel there is more of your life behind you than in front.  

Your heart niggles that you were meant to be something but the darkness laughs at how futile you are.  

It tells you that you were always too broken to be of any use.  

You wait. Something is restless but all you can make out is lethargy.

You know it can't go on forever, but you can't remember how else to be.

I would add a few more paragraphs now. The other side of the conversation going on in my head, the truths that now override some of the nonsense.  

Thank you to all those who help people like me to find the truths. To be able to add more paragraphs. Thank you for being brave enough to jump into the hole.

p.s. here are someone else's' experience: Halfway