In all blinding honesty, I’ve been suffering from depression for over a decade, since the start of the teens, the thirteens, to be exact. I’ve checked myself in with the wrong psychiatrist at the age of 17 and another wrong one at the age of 21. I’m a prolific liar, but I care too much about everyone I love, and I live for you all only.
2012 was a breaking point, and I was lucky enough to end up in the right care. Shouldn’t have that happened in 2002? Yeah, but we’re buidling character, right?
I don’t want to be quoted on anything vegan- or doggie- related, but I do want to be quoted on this. And I hope noone has to go through their families and closest loved ones questioning them in any similar way.
So, here, all the wrong fucking things to say:
- “You choose to wallow in despair.” In fact, it’s the next best thing to eating death-by-chocolate cake. (Though, truly, it’s not a choice.)
- “You’re just in a bad mood. Why don’t you go jogging, talk to a friend, spend years in psychotherapy, meditate, do yoga, or indulge in homeopathy?” Been there, done that. Please see no.1.
- “Medication is needlessly invasive and should be a short-term help only.” With all its mind-numbing side effects, medication makes me feel the way you do when you wake up on an average Wednesday. And that, my friend, is pretty average and pretty damn good.
- “You just have too much time on your hands.” Are you implying fake-till-you-make-it?
- “You are just too sensitive.” Well, whatever the diagnosis, doctor, we’re working on that.
- “You are too weak to deal with everyday life.” Well, yes, but at the same time the implied makes you an ignorant idiot.
- “I just worked a twelve-hour day, I should go on fucking antidepressants.” Oh, yeah, mock me some more.
- “We all have our issues.” I’m all ears.
- “Think rationally”. I believe that is NOT a choice.