I have Persistent Depressive Disorder. In other words, I have high-functioning depression. That’s pretty difficult to admit, especially in such a public forum, but it’s the truth. Being afraid is not a good reason to keep a topic as important as this one under wraps. Now, more than ever, it’s crucial that we start discussing mental health, and what we can do to help fight the stigma.
If you don’t already know, high-functioning depression is a little different than major depression. Stereotypes would have you believe that anyone that has any kind of depression all have the same symptoms: loss of interest in activities you normally enjoy, lying in bed with no motivation to get up, and spending countless hours crying, just to name a few. These aren’t the only symptoms though. Sometimes you experience excessive bouts of anger and frustration, sleeping and eating problems, and incomprehensible exhaustion. When you think depression, this is what you think about. But it’s not just this.
Every day I wake up and I put my best face on. I get out of bed when I’m supposed to, I grab my son, give him my first and last real smile of the day, and my day starts. You would never know I suffer from depression if I didn’t already tell you. Every conversation I have seems vibrant and full of life. I smile and laugh, and most people walk away from an interaction with me feeling better about themselves and their day. I give them genuine compliments, shower them with attention. Truthfully, though, I’m more spent than energized at the end of any type of communication with others. They can’t tell that, inside, I’m completely vacant. The lights are on, but nobody’s home. I’m just going through the motions of a normal life, hoping that one day I might feel that enjoyment for real. I can mimic meaningful conversations, but I feel nothing when I do it.
The only emotions I feel are raw at their core, and entirely unstoppable. It takes extra energy to redirect these feelings. And of course, they’re all negative. The only emotions I feel are anger, guilt, anxiety and sadness. Can you imagine carrying that burden? Especially when you have a family to look after? I feel them with all of my entirety, but it comes as a surprise to everyone that I don’t experience joy like I once did. It comes as a surprise because high-functioning depression doesn’t let me act this way. On the outside, I seem like I have my life together. I have a man that I love with my whole heart, and who loves me. We have the most perfect child together. We live in a beautiful 3-bedroom condo. My family and friends are patient, supportive and loving. Even with all that I have, my depression is constantly telling me how I’m not good enough. My life isn't good enough. What I’m working towards isn’t good enough. My high-functioning depression whispers in my ear that I need to get up and do what I need to do, so I do it, but I get no enjoyment out of it. This goes for my accomplishments, too.
The reactions I receive when I share what I’m going through are the same reason I avoid talking about it with others. This is unfortunate because it only helps strengthen the stigma against mental illnesses like depression. I’m sure others who experience what I’m experiencing will know what I’m talking about. I fight to keep from rolling my eyes when another person tells me to suck it up, to get over it, to be more positive. Don’t you think I try to do all these things? Why do you think you can’t tell I have depression in the first place? I push past it. But that doesn’t mean all of a sudden, I’m going to start feeling joy, to feel excitement, to genuinely like an activity that doesn’t leave me exhausted.
I try not to focus on this, though. I work with a therapist, and although it’s a rollercoaster ride day-to-day, I’m stronger every day. Knowing that I feel anger, guilt, and sadness so intensely makes me believe that I’m not incapable of feeling other things just as fiercely. Since starting talk-therapy treatment, I have been feeling more happiness and more hope. Depression is a war, and every day is a new battle. Sometimes I lose, but I’ve been winning more and more. If happiness wins more battles, then I know I’m starting to win the war. I’ve come to realize that I can fight through this, even if it takes all the strength that I have. That little bit of hope that I’ve felt in the past few months makes me crave more.
If you or a loved one has high-functioning depression, please give yourself some grace. As exhausting as it is for those with depression, it’s just as exhausting for their loved ones. This illness is overwhelming and all-encompassing. It can swallow you whole if you let it. You have the tools you need if you have a support system, treatment, and the will to keep on going. Even if you don’t, they’re not out of your reach. I am always there for others who are fighting their own war with depression. I know how it feels to feel helpless and hopeless, but those things are never far from your grasp. Those with depression are fighters, and I know that you can do this. Just keep going.
