The Labyrinth of Depression

The truth is, depression is a puzzle no one has yet solved, and some fail to acknowledge exists. It’s hard to fight a disease parts of the population deny is real. I know its deep realities and I struggle to try to solve its puzzle each and every day of my life. Many days, like today, it feels like a one step forward, two steps backwards kind of march towards nothing. 

It’s been a confusing few months for me. I had a terrible experience in May where a couple of people practically said to my face that I couldn’t write….and said it over and over again for an hour and a half. Then I had an appendectomy and my body told me there was very little I could do after it. As a result of these two occurrences, the words “I can’t” have become prevalent in my brain even as I adorn my walls with pictures of things I have done (cook a turkey, bake a lemon meringue pie, plan a wedding, go to LA by myself, take a good photo, nanny wee children, graduate from a major university, be the one to bring a tarp to a weather-questionable outdoor event). I’ve walled myself in a cocoon of “I can’t” and these things that I can do seem unreal. Seriously. Thanksgiving is coming up and the idea of taking on cooking a turkey dinner all by myself for a large group of people, something I did twice last year, seems ridiculous. Today I posted an 8050 word piece on a show I’m in love with. But I don’t think it’s any good. So I’m confused. Can I do things? Can I write? After the events of the late Spring/Summer, I am frightened to try.

I’ve also gotten caught up a lot in the meta-depression: depressed that I’m losing so much time to depression, worrying I’ll be depressed or won’t enjoy something. I lose a lot of time each day trying to decide what to do, worried the decision I make will be the wrong one and lead to depression. I’ve written about this before. I know the answer is to just do something, anything, to make the decision and know that if the depression comes it’s not because of what I decided to do. But the fact that I’ve been fighting for so long, really all my 31 years, makes me very depressed that I’m still depressed. But that’s just silliness. I guess at my age, I’ve realized that because depression has been my life for so long, depression will be my life from now on. And that’s very depressing. Which again, is silliness.  

Fighting my depression has been my number one priority for almost three years now. I quit a really good (for me) job because my depression made the job unbearable. I quit the job to fix the depression and get back to life. But nearly three years later, I’m still stuck in the labyrinth of depression, trying every path to get out and not finding the exit. 

But I keep looking. I keep trying paths. I keep believing there is an exit, a solution to the puzzle that may not exist yet but will one day. It’s been a rough summer/year/life. But I keep forging ahead, trying to make each day better. The key to fighting depression is not to give up. To believe that one day you will beat it. I believe. 

Do you? (I know it’s like asking you if you believe in magic. But try, try to believe.)