Depression is a tricky little bastard. No matter how much someone might tell you that you’re wonderful, you’re valid, you’re beautiful or worthy of happiness, depression is always close by, waiting to whisper utter bullshit in your ear.
More people suffer from depression on different levels than I believe is really acknowledged – not everyone who has depression and anxiety simply hides from the world. Lots of us just live with it and push forward, hoping that one day we will feel secure enough, and leave those demons behind, or at least learn to dance with them. Many people who have dealt with depression don’t even show it unless pushed to a point where they snap.
I’ve had my share of ups and downs, my mother moved me into a rooming house full of guys at sixteen, because she simply did not want me around anymore. She had been trying to push me out the door since I was eleven, and my dad kept calming the waters. Eventually this just didn’t work anymore. During the years that all of this was happening, my grades suffered in school, I eventually dropped out and got a job, that led to me wanting my own place anyway, because I was tired of being the object of my mother’s ire – I just could’ve used a less testosterone-soaked environment to live in.
I met my ex-husband at that house, his brother was one of my roommates. We ended up living together and having two children together, the only reason I’ve no regrets no matter how terribly things went with him. He turned out to be abusive on many levels, but the problem with coming from a home where you’re used to being shoved, hit, and berated is that you feel like it’s normal or you must in some way deserve it. That’s what I had to learn to reprogram, how to process that information that was being dripped into my brain all the time. It carried on for some time after I left him, causing me to make less than decent choices in men and in what I allowed others to do to me.
Nearly four years after meeting my now-partner, I realize what it was that was different with him. He liked me, and loved me for me. No matter how silly or neurotic I got, he always had my back, and he always tried his best to make me happy – even when he went through his own depression crisis. I can’t say that 2016 was great for us, entirely too much loss and too much sadness, but here is 2017 and we are still together, still thick as thieves. As time has passed, I’ve gotten better at processing stress and anxiety, and better at talking it out and not holding onto things that won’t help the situation. I can’t say that I don’t still have rough days, that would be a lie. I do, however, have a much better perspective on life now. I know I’m going to be okay, and I know I never have to accept less than respect, love and proper treatment from those around me. I’ve learned to say goodbye to those who disturb my peace, and to stop absorbing the crazed energies from those who love to share it.
To put it simply, it really is mind over matter. We have to make a conscious choice to stop listening to that whispering voice, and to listen to those around us and care more about what they think. That is the key, that is where the root of the nagging sadness that depression laces us with is. I’m not saying that it’s some kind of instant fix, just that the more we choose to listen to the input of our loved ones and friends and family, the less audible that voice becomes, and it stops taking over our existence so much.
Listen to Rainbow Dash. She speaks truth!