Being depressed is like having a heart attack, except that when you’re depressed, nobody cares.
When it interferes with the normal functioning of every day life, you are just lazy and not trying enough.
If you seek medical help, no one will help to resolve it, especially when you can’t access a regular, family doctor. Getting any sort of psychiatric help is out of the question when you are poor. A month of medication costs as much as a month’s worth of groceries, and when you already can’t afford to eat properly, it really impossible to get better. Meds or food? It’s a hard choice, but it’s your own fault for being crazy. And poor.
When you’re depressed, you find it almost impossible to tell your loved ones, because so few of them understand it. It’s worse when they seem to “forget” this is something you deal with every day, and that it wasn’t just a “one time thing”. This discourages you from even bothering to mention it the this time, forcing you to invent more “plausible” reasons for your difficulties.
Being depressed has numerous physical effects, and no one cares about those, either.
When you’re depressed, it becomes impossible to focus and preform academically. Professors don’t give a shit about what problems you have, no matter what kind of doctor note, school councilor letter, or whatnot that you provide them. This only applies to mental illnesses, because a hung-over student with a doctor note will receive all sorts of accommodations.
Being depressed is like having your piano dropped on your soul. Your spirit is dead. The future seems hopeless. The grief felt is similar to the death of a friend, is all-consuming, and is devastating. It is unlike the death of a loved one because again, no one cares. This point cannot be emphasized enough.
When you’re depressed your enemies will label you as crazy and will use it against you every chance they get as soon as they find out. You live in fear of ever having to go to court for child custody hearings. All your old friends believe you are crazy and unworthy of friendship.
The guilt is unrelenting. The most insignificant things hound you every moment that you have the misfortune to be awake. The guilt placed upon you by those that don’t understand your situation is even worse. Your failures become magnified, and life becomes a never ending cycle of self hatred, guilt, sadness, and fear.
You wish you were dead, but know you can’t kill yourself because your significant other and your kids need you in their lives. Then you feel even guiltier for feeling that way. Then you wonder how much could your loved ones really need a fuck up like you. Then you feel guilty. Repeat infinitely.
When you are depressed, you have to pretend that everything is okay with you, all the time. You have to keep making career goals, plans for the future, and look like you are doing something “productive”. Of course, you can never mention it when you are looking for employment, and certainly not after getting hired, unless you want to be eliminated from the position…for some other “reason”, of course. if you were diabetic, it would be different, but something as life-threatening, if not more, than diabetes, must always be kept a secret. Because you’re crazy and it’s all your fault, apparently.
The only things people care about in this world is money, youth, beauty, conformity, narcissism, and Apple products. If you are creative, intelligent, well-read, kind-hearted, introverted, or sensitive, it is irrelevant unless you fit into the herd. If you are mentally ill, then there is no place for you in society, regardless of your other qualities, which are stupid anyway, because the only thing that matters about a human is their ability to become rich. If your career & life goals involve anything that isn’t defined by piles of cash, fame, or both, then you are considered a delusionary sociopath. Which totally helps when you are depressed.
As a depressed person, you may think it’s a good idea to try and sort through your feelings by blogging, or some other therapeutic way. It really isn’t. Nobody cares. it’s like talking to yourself in an dark, empty room. Sometimes you can look forward to a misspelled, uncapitalized and unpunctuated comment telling you to get over yourself, or to kill yourself already that you get to moderate.
Finally, when you are depressed, you start to hate everyone else more and more each day. You know that other people have parents who love them and support them, and were never emotionally, physically, and sexually abused. They had opportunities handed to them that you will never get, an easy, financially secure life, and never seem to question anything. They fit in socially, and have no problem with being vapid and stupid because that’s what you need to be to get anywhere in life. All you want is to make them suffer the way that you suffer, and you wish pain, hardship and petulance upon them. You start to live for the day when something terrible will happen to them, instead of you. You daydream about their burning houses, about seeing them develop terrible illnesses, you hope their spouses beat them and that their pets will bite them and then go into traffic to die. You wish that just once, something would go your way instead of theirs. Sadly, it won’t happen. Life will keep on tormenting you in every way, and they’ll have an easy ride. If you are poor they’ll tell you they worked hard for what they have, even if mom & dad paid for their college education, bought them a house, and gave them seed money for a business, so why can’t you get ahead? They are incapable of caring or understanding, and they actually believe they deserve what they have.
Being depressed is really great.
Too bad nobody cares.