The Monster in the Room
I am not sure how it happens or where the thought process begins, but when we are little kids we begin to believe there is a monster in our room. We begin to have unrealistic fears that something is lingering in the shadows, under our bed and that it will come get us when we least expect it. As we grow up, that fear transforms into many other things…not so much that there is something under our bed, but it transforms into a message of if we are adequate enough, likable or even worth something. Many of us go through stages in life where we are trying to figure ourselves out and if we are going to make it out of this time alive. All of these are normal thoughts, and often times they disappear and we continue to walk through this journey and overcome our irrational fears…but then there is this thing called depression.
Depression tells us that we will never be good enough, that we will never get better and that this life can move on without us. Depression is so much more than feeling bad when bad things happen, lets be honest that is normal. Depression tells us that we can never be happy regardless of how great the day was.
I will never forget the day that I was diagnosed with depression. I mean the diagnosis explained everything. It explained why I came home day in and day out and just wanted to ball up and cry, it explained the uncontrollable thoughts of sadness, self-hatred and suicide. Along with the diagnosis came the stigmas. Being diagnosed with depression meant that I was different, problematic and that I was less than. I was ashamed of myself, even if I had no control over the diagnosis.
Through out the darkest times of my life aka High School, there wasn’t a moment that passed by that I wasn’t fascinated by the idea of death. There were moments that I would feel so numb from my medications that I would do anything to feel something even if that meant hurting myself in the process. I truly let depression control me, my life and my decisions. Depression told me that my outcomes of pain, trauma and loss was what I deserved.
I am here to say depression was wrong and so was I. To this day, depression is the monster in my room. It haunts me, torments me, pokes fun and continues to linger…But I have a choice in this. I can either buy into the lies that depression tells me on a regular basis or I can keep pushing, keep going and build up things in my life that make me feel worth while and that will support me in the moments where the grips of depression are nearly stifling. Depression does not get to define me, I do, and depression is simply a small part that plays a role in my life.
If you are someone that identifies with depression, please know that you are not alone, and that there is help and people who understand what you are going through. We are here to be a resource for your in your dark times, email us at firstname.lastname@example.org.