Depression: I Am More Than the Darkness

I feel sometimes when I’m writing these posts that I straddle a line between authenticity and worrying about exposing too much of the darker side of life. I don’t want to scare off those who might read these posts or add my own heaviness to theirs. However, life doesn’t always give me a choice as to whether I cross that line or not. So, for a moment, I want to take a step over and share a bit of that darkness.

I have really been struggling to write lately because I feel like I have been suffocating under the weight of a deep depression. It feels so heavy, so dark, and so very alone. For those who have struggled with depression, you know how difficult it can feel. For those who have not, let me share my experience for a moment.

It’s difficult to put into words what depression feels like. It is like a dark cloud that descends and shrouds my mind in confusion. It makes it difficult to even want to get out of bed and the thought of even functioning in life feels impossible at times. Unfortunately, life doesn’t just stop when I’m feeling depressed.

Being single, I don’t have anyone else to rely on to ensure my basic needs are met. So, I can’t just tell life to pause while I take a break to recover. I must drag myself to work every day and pretend that all is right in my world. I must somehow do the impossible by faking productivity when my mind feels like it’s trapped in a thick fog. It only adds to the depression because I feel like I am failing at everything I do.

Then there is the aspect of desperately wanting help and yet feeling like no one sees me. Sitting in conversations making sure to smile and nod at the appropriate times when inside I feel like my world is crumbling. Being surrounded by people and yet feeling completely alone. Crying in solitude while standing at the edge of the last bit of sanity I’m trying to hold onto.

To take one step further into the darkness … contemplating whether life is worth it. I have teetered on this edge many times before in my life and have found myself wondering lately what has kept me choosing to stay. I feel so much shame, loneliness, fear, disconnection, and pain … why haven’t I just chosen to give up?

As I got quiet last night, reconnected with my body, a quiet voice reminded me what my true nature looks like—a bad ass, fierce warrior with a gentle and compassionate soul. Often, I feel this part of me is too buried to access, but it is the part of me that continually chooses to step back from the edge and live another day.

For those of you who might be struggling with depression, who feel like you’re teetering on a similar edge, please know you are not alone. You may not feel strong or connected to some deeper part of yourself right now. You may not even know what that part looks like. But whatever it is within you that has carried you this far, I hope you can trust that it is still there.

I also know I haven’t gotten this far completely on my own. As strong as that fierce part of me may be, depression isn’t something I believe we’re meant to carry alone. Support matters, especially when the darkness becomes so heavy that it’s difficult to see beyond it. Therapy and/or medication can be an important part of that support. For me, the kind, gentle presence of my therapist has helped me find my way back to myself when I’ve struggled to do so on my own.

Life can be really hard; there is no denying that. Especially when we’re faced with challenges that are out of our control. Depression is never a choice. You don’t just wake up one day and decide, “I am going to be depressed today.” Nor can you simply choose to be happy or surrender your depression to God and expect the darkness to disappear. Faith can offer comfort and support, but depression is not evidence that we haven’t prayed enough, trusted enough, or surrendered enough. Anyone who tells you otherwise doesn’t fully understand.

What I do know is that depression doesn’t define who I am. One small step I can take is to notice my language—to shift from “I am depressed” to “I feel depressed.” It may seem like a small distinction, but when I’m consumed by the darkness, it can feel like I become the darkness.

Last night reminded me that I am more than the darkness.

Somewhere underneath it all is still that fierce, compassionate part of me—my badass warrior who has brought me back from the edge many times before. Even when I can’t feel her, she’s still there. And I know in my heart she will continue to remind me that no matter how dark things may feel, the darkness is something I am experiencing. It is not who I am.