I’m Depressed

There. I’ve said it. It’s not the first time. But I don’t want to say it again.

I’m depressed.

Not your milennial kind. Sitting at a cafe, rolling my eyes at the girl I don’t like and complaining about singledom, “Ohmygod! I’m so depressed!” No. Not that kind.

The real one. The emotional kind that people tend to treat lightly because they don’t understand how serious it can possibly be. So, welcome to my world.

I’m not an actress. My life isn’t a Bollywood movie. I’m not sitting by the window, staring into space and nothingness. I don’t have a single tear running down my face as I lose sight of what’s happening around me. I’m not snapped back to reality. A hug isn’t going to heal me. A boyfriend cannot fix me.

This is real.

I’m right beside you. I’m not in hiding. I’m everywhere I need to be. I’m talking to you when you’re talking to me. I sound like I do everyday but I care a lot less. You just can’t tell. I show up to the event, dressed like a dream. You can’t tell it took me effort to put it all on. Not physical. Emotional. To get out of bed and prepare myself to smile with a world I can’t connect to anymore.

I can’t tell you I’d rather be at home. Not listening to you talk about problems that don’t affect me and having to give you comforting advice when I can’t even think. I can’t tell you I’m two seconds away from breaking apart even when I seem to be laughing.

You help me. Sitting across the table, as a best friend. You help me. Knocking on my door for a small conversation. You help me. A distraction for a few seconds. But you can’t take it away.

I want to confide. To tell you how I spiral. To tell you how this is all too much. I think I’ve taken on more than I can chew. My overthinking has taken me by my hand and led me back to my dark place. I was depressed a few years ago. I think it’s back for me. Or maybe it never stopped at all.

I wake up every morning. I walk out the door, that takes a lot of effort. I look through my checklist, ticking off things that pay my bills. I eat my lunch to Netflix. I come back home, turn the lights on, find my corner of the bed and suddenly I’m lost. I switch between streaming platforms. I grab my phone and get on Instagram. There’s nothing to watch. Nobody to see. I don’t care about any of it. But I have to. Because if I’m not watching Mike Ross fight with Harvey Specter or Lorelai and Rory Gilmore fast talk their way through Luke’s coffee, I’d want to slam my head against the wall, crying.

I ask myself everyday. Is it the end of my relationship? Is it the amount of work? Is it the personal woes? The inability to give back to the people who gave me everything? Is it the drowning debt? My answer is the same every time. No.

Someone once asked me what depression feels like. “Is it a state of mind? Can’t you change your state of mind?” I tried to tell her.

It’s like an empty room that hasn’t been lived in for decades. It’s hollow, your voice echoes multifold. So your worries echo multifold. It’s dirty, not the sexy kind. It’s broken windows and rusty doors. It’s haunting without the ghosts. It’s a feeling of sinking. Like something bad is always going to happen. But it’s not. You know it’s not. Yet you feel like it just did. You feel like you’ve lost. Maybe it’s the loss of life in that room. Or the loss of happiness. The loss of light. It’s a dark room. Maybe there’s light. All it takes is the flick of a switch. But you’re stuck. You can’t get up and turn it on.

She asked me why. I didn’t have an answer.

My depression doesn’t need a reason to cling on to. My emotions don’t have to explain themselves for sinking again. I can’t write down why I’m not okay. But it’s the truth. I’m not okay.

How do you ask for help when you don’t know what you need help with? What do I say?

“Hey, I’m depressed. I don’t know why. I don’t know the fix. But help me?”

What do they go on with? What solution do they give to a problem I can’t describe?

So I try what I always have. To smile. Maybe if I smile enough, the happiness will become real. I try to giggle. Perhaps the silliness will help lighten up my heart. I try to create. Art helped me once, so it should again? I try to live. But as I sat there at that boardwalk, staring at fireworks, my sister turned to me, “Are you crying?”

I had to say no because I didn’t want to explain myself. But the truth was… Yes. The fireworks made me cry. I don’t know why. They always make me happy. And I was happy. But something within me made me cry. Because I wasn’t really happy.

How do you explain that?

Things that bring me an abundance of joy cannot lift me out of this dark hole I find myself stuck in over and over again. Maybe we’re all depressed and we just don’t admit it to each other. Maybe as you’re reading this, you’re relating. But you can’t tell anyone either because when they ask, “Your life is amazing. What do you have to be depressed about?” what do you say?

What do I say?

So I shrug my shoulders, look down in guilt and swallow my tears. I look at them, a lump in my throat and softly say,

“I’m not okay.”


18 thoughts on “I’m Depressed

  1. thenakedwriter says:

    Wow! Wow! Wow! —- “I sound like I do everyday but I care a lot less.” — Wow! Wow! Wow! As I’m reading this, one friend comes to mind. Thank you so much for your candidness in sharing where you’re at. Thank You.

  2. Mahesh says:

    Have you sat down and made a bucket-list of all that you want to do and cross those items off – one-by-one? Do you have a support system in place – your sister or a close friend who will listen without judging you and comfort you? Would it help – if you were to quit your job and travel for a few months and return with peace and inner joy? I don’t have any answers – all I can hope is that you find the strength and support that can help you overcome depression. Good luck and may light flow into the dark void and fill you with strength.

    • LoudThoughtsVoicedOut says:

      I don’t like leaning on people emotionally. I have people who have offered since reading this but it’s just weird and awkward for me.

      I can’t quit my job, unfortunately.

      Thank you for all the suggestions and for really taking the time to type it all out. It means a lot. ❤

      • Mahesh says:

        Good luck Poornima. Am sure you will find a way out to beat all the darkness and publish your second book soon. Perhaps that could be a motivation to write ☺️ Good luck as always.

  3. | a s h | says:

    This was so vividly expressed but also raised a lot of concern in me. We don’t know each other. I’m just another person on this virtual world telling you how your words affected me. But for the sake of saying this, I will, don’t lose hope. Paint that hollow old broken room in your favourite colour even if you don’t care what it looks like. When you get up in the morning and don’t care about the world, care about yourself. You don’t have to worry about anyone else, you just have to worry about yourself. I hope you take everything that’s hurting you and mould them into things that make you more loved and connected. That day doesn’t have to be today, next week or next month. It just has to arrive. And I believe you will reach it.

    • LoudThoughtsVoicedOut says:

      Thank you. Strangers over the internet can have more power than you’d imagine. I loved how you asked me to paint the room. It brought a wide smile to my face.

      I know I’ll get through it. But until then… It’s a long day everyday.

      Thank you for taking the time to read and comment ❤

  4. Shell Vera says:

    Beautifully expressed and much needed in a world that desires answers for everything. It’s okay to not be okay, as long as you tell someone when the “not okay” comes dangerously close to the edge. You know that moment… we all do… when we can easily slip from “not okay” to “not here”. None of us want that for you or anyone else. ❤️💜

  5. Muthu says:

    Perhaps writing is your outlet and you don’t have to say anything. Hang in there and keep writing. You’ll get through this 👍🏼

  6. Rona Baniel says:

    I..I want to tell my parents that the same words but I don’t want myself to explain,so I keep it to myself and pretend to be okay.

  7. kiara Gonzalez says:

    Wow! I really enjoyed reading this, I feel I can relate to this in many ways. I once read a quote that brought out how writers can take our thoughts, feelings and desires and express them in such a way that the reader not only reads them but feels them as well. I most definitely felt that here. It sucks that we live in a world where happiness is often temporary, or how how the things that once made you happy can make you sad. One thing that helps me is looking to the creator when I’m going through hard times, because sometimes humans can only understand so much of how we feel, but the creator understands exactly how we feel ( Psalms 139:1, 2, 4) . If you get a chance you should check out this website https://www.jw.org/en/bible-teachings/questions/bible-help-depressed/ they have lots of articles that are helpful for just about every subject. I really love it, and it’s all bible based. I hope things get better for you!

  8. Anuradha Sivaraman says:

    Its okay not to be okay! Loved how you expressed that depression has indeed been quite romanticized by people. Sitting by the window, tears rolling down sorts. But the reality like you portrayed is very grime, filled with mundane details that you wish you can avoid but just cannot find strength to do just that! It is filled with monotony, repetitive actions, fatigue, avoidance, cancellation of plans, overenthusiastic & overcompensating the state of lifelessness with you with an even brighter smile. I have tried explaining people and been mocked at various intensity(from friendly banter to serious mockery). A lot of people believe my numbness is my own manifestation. May or may not be true. But finding a fix, like you said when you cannot clearly define the problem is like chasing horizon. Each time I think I am close to finding a fix feeling better. I have been in and out of student counselors office, reading and updating on psychology books & theories. I have just come to the conclusion that this is going to be an ongoing, lifelong process of figuring and accepting my evolving Self. But your honest writing took me one step closer. Someday, I wish I can also come to be this honest with my emotions and write about it!

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