That Side of Depression

So I think I know the answer to this, and if you’ve ever felt this way, you may as well. This kind of deep, hollow sadness is like a double-edged sword. The world will tell you that they want you to speak up, reach out, ask for help, but the second that you mention that you have completely gone numb inside and given up because the pain has completely paralyzed you, both physically and emotionally; and has now reached a point beyond your control; you’re labeled suicidal, crazy, psychotic, mental, emotional, unhinged, and the world turns on you; either wanting to lock you in a padded cell or get you hooked on hardcore pharmaceutical drugs, or both. And this is why people in this situation do not reach out. 

All of these things have negative consequences that can actually affect your life in a very real way. See, if you haven’t actually gone through something like this you wouldn’t realize it. Simply being labeled suicidal could have an impact on a persons life, in such a way that that most people don’t realize. There are cases of people who are suicidal and need help, but are afraid to reach out for fear of being locked up somewhere and drugged out of their fucking minds and having their brain chemicals altered and being some goddamn guinea pig for the big pharmaceutical companies instead of being offered actual help. Having their entire lives, and everything they care about, including their children, their homes, their jobs, sometimes the only things that are, in reality, keeping them holding on on the first place, stripped away from them in the blink of an eye.

Then there’s the other option. “Get therapy” people say. Well guess what you can’t fucking say to a therapist. You cannot tell a therapist that you feel suicidal or that you have thoughts even closely resembling not wanting to live anymore or being worthless. Any inclination of those type of feelings, helplessness, hopelessness or feeling lost, that give the therapist some type of suspicions that you could be a harm to yourself, and they’ll send you packing your bags to the top floor of the fucking psych ward! Who’s going to actually speak up when they have that threat looming over their goddamn head!? 

The real ugly truth of the matter is there is no real professional help out there. We have to help each other. We have to notice our friends and our families. But most importantly, and never forget this, we have to help ourselves! We have to reach down deep inside ourselves and find that strength that we forgot we had to move on and live another day. 

Even when we think we can’t do it, we have no choice!  We have to think positive thoughts. Even when you think that you don’t have anything else left to live for, you have to force yourself to find something, anything positive to focus on, and cling to it. I don’t care what it is. It’s now your thing. It is your fucking thing and no one can take it away from you. Cling to it and nurture it until it blossoms into more things.

Pull yourself up out of that void. I have been there. I know it’s dark, I know it’s nothing but blackness, I know the silence is deafening. I know It’s haunting and lonely and you think that you can’t do it, but trust me when I tell you this…you can! You can fucking do this!

You are not, I repeat, you are not alone!