Category Archives: Reblogs

Reblogged: On friends vs community

Rachel Hills wrote this On her blog and I wanted to share it as it it is a perfect little clarifier of something I have been trying to word for sometime:

“Would you rather have twenty friends you saw once a month, or five friends you saw every week?” he asked me. “And before you answer, you can’t say ‘both.’”

I hadn’t been planning on it. “Well,” I said. “Friends and community are different. Friends are people you spend time with because you individually enjoy each other’s company and build up a bond over time. A community is a group of people who come together because they share a common purpose.”

“There are people who cross over both, but I have friends who aren’t part of any of my communities, and people in my communities who aren’t really my friends,” I continued. “My problem in London isn’t that I don’t have any friends. It’s that I haven’t yet found a community.”

Depression is humiliating.

Once again, there are those with far greater éloquence than I who I can simply re-blog rather than attempt to provide my own words:

Depression is humiliating.

It turns intelligent, kind people into zombies who can’t wash a dish or change their socks. It affects the ability to think clearly, to feel anything, to ascribe value to your children, your lifelong passions, your relative good fortune. It scoops out your normal healthy ability to cope with bad days and bad news, and replaces it with an unrecognizable sludge that finds no pleasure, no delight, no point in anything outside of bed. You alienate your friends because you can’t comport yourself socially, you risk your job because you can’t concentrate, you live in moderate squalor because you have no energy to stand up, let alone take out the garbage. You become pathetic and you know it. And you have no capacity to stop the downward plunge. You have no perspective, no emotional reserves, no faith that it will get better. So you feel guilty and ashamed of your inability to deal with life like a regular human, which exacerbates the depression and the isolation.

Depression is humiliating.

If you’ve never been depressed, thank your lucky stars and back off the folks who take a pill so they can make eye contact with the grocery store cashier. No one on earth would choose the nightmare of depression over an averagely turbulent normal life.

It’s not an incapacity to cope with day to day living in the modern world. It’s an incapacity to function. At all. If you and your loved ones have been spared, every blessing to you. If depression has taken root in you or your loved ones, every blessing to you, too.

Depression is humiliating.

No one chooses it. No one deserves it. It runs in families, it ruins families. You cannot imagine what it takes to feign normalcy, to show up to work, to make a dentist appointment, to pay bills, to walk your dog, to return library books on time, to keep enough toilet paper on hand, when you are exerting most of your capacity on trying not to kill yourself. Depression is real. Just because you’ve never had it doesn’t make it imaginary. Compassion is also real. And a depressed person may cling desperately to it until they are out of the woods and they may remember your compassion for the rest of their lives as a force greater than their depression. Have a heart. Judge not lest ye be judged.
Pearl

Depression is not a synonym for being sad or having a bad day/bad week.

It’s not a PHASE. It’s not a CHOICE. It’s not LAZINESS.

 

Depression – why it was never about sadness

I really like this entry from “Halfway Between The Gutter And The Stars” titled “Depression – why it was never about sadness” in which they have written:

So, what is depression?

For me, it’s a feeling of total lack of respect, for myself and others. It’s a deep, dark numbness which can’t be alleviated by anything. It’s the inability to laugh or cry with any real emotion; it’s the total lack of emotion, the opposite of feeling. It’s a wall which comes slamming down around me, removing me from the world and trapping me behind unbreakable glass. I can see the world, I can see and hear people and conversations, but they’re blurred as though seen through frosted windows in a soundproofed room. It’s when food and drink is tasteless and unsatisfying, when music becomes an annoyance rather than a joy, it’s the need to keep my bedroom curtains closed at all times because the sun is simply too much to cope with.

Depression is the beast which makes me sleep for days on end, an unrelenting tiredness. It’s lying awake at night, counting the seconds until morning when I can tick another failed day off my ever-growing list. It’s the inability to lift a coffee cup without huge effort, the climb up the stairs which feels like a trip up Mt. Everest. It’s staring at a wall for hours, completely unaware of time passing.

The article is a wonderful and brave piece – go read it if you have a chance.