January 27 is Bell's annual "Let's Talk" day. It's a day in which Bell donates money for every tweet with the hashtag #BellLetsTalk and raises money for Mental Health initiatives.
Many people who know me, know that I have, and sometimes suffer from, depression. Someone once said that depression is often worse than terminal cancer, because people with cancer have people who rally behind them, have support, and have people who bring up their self-esteem.
People with mental illnesses are often shunned, abandoned, misunderstood, and not rallied behind, not supported, and often, their self-esteem suffers.
I know this all too well. People don't want to support the person who's always down, who sometimes bails on plans because the thought of getting dressed is simply too exhausting. People stop inviting, stop calling, stop checking in.
I said in a post today that if I had cancer, I'd have friends. They'd rally around me and my family. They'd be there with food, with ideas, with ways to engage. But because depression - and mental illness in and of itself - is unpredictable, people don't know how - or perhaps don't want to - deal.
It's much easier, I guess, for them to just turn their backs and walk away, using the excuse "well, I tried." All I can say is if you truly are a friend - try harder. Just because one person in your life has suffered from depression, doesn't mean any of the other people you know who do suffer the same way. Just because one person was an ass, doesn't mean the other person is.
I found, after this summer, that the group of friends with whom I though I had a decent relationship, were not the people I thought they were. I have cut the toxic relationships out of my life - for the most part - and am focussing on meeting new people, strengthening the relationships I have (interestingly, the people I have known since high school are still in my circle of friends, despite my diagnosis. The ones I've made since marriage and kids, they're the ones who are no longer in my life). I'm deepening friendships with people I had lost touch with and meeting new people.
I also have an awesome job that I love - but makes me go to networking events and be outside my comfort zone frequently. So that's always interesting.
I'm learning what it takes for me to realize when my depression is trying to take hold, and when I'm heading into a spiral - either up or down. I have people I can rely on who will tell me when they think they see a trigger starting something. And I have people - some I know in real life, some I only know on Facebook - with whom I can discuss my hopes, my dreams, my fears and my feelings of either euphoria or abandonment - depending on the issue, the time of day and whatever other factors are at play.
I would say that I miss those friends with whom I am no longer friends, but as time goes on, I realize I don't. If they had been true friends, they'd still be around. They'd be rallying. They'd be checking in to see how I'm doing, and I would be able to check in and see how they are. It's a two sided road, I realize.
I think what some people don't seem to realize, and what isn't always well defined, is that depression is tricky. It makes you seem selfish. It makes it seem like you think everything is about you. That couldn't be further from the truth. It's worse than that. It's realizing that you are coming across as selfish and that nothing but your own problems matter. It's realizing that people perceive that, but you can't articulate that you know it's not about you. It's knowing that you should be asking people how they are, but hurting so much inside, that you don't want to ask, because you know they will ask you, and they don't really want to hear the truth.
I think one of the stigmas of mental illness, and depression in particular, is that we may come across as selfish and self-centred. The fact is, in a lot of cases, the only person we've learned we can rely on, is ourselves. And we feel completely betrayed by the fact that we can't even rely on ourselves because when depression takes hold, you can't even rely on yourself to pull yourself out of it.
I have described the feeling to my husband, who sells flooring (carpet, etc), this way: Imagine you have a bale of carpet (they weigh 100+pounds) that you are carrying around everywhere. You can't put this bale of carpet down. Not to eat, not to go to the bathroom, not to drive. You have to carry this bale everywhere. Imagine how exhausted you would be long before the end of the day. THAT is depression. In its most simplistic description.
But not everyday is like that. And now, having cut out the toxic relationships, having a job I love, friends I'm becoming closer to, and new friends, I have many fewer days where that black cloud - or bale of carpet - descend on me.
I just wish more people would talk - and I wish that "how are you?" was really an invitation to say exactly how you are. I wish I could say to someone "I'm a little depressed today, but I'll be okay, thanks for asking."
