As far as I know, depression didn’t exist until I was in 8th grade. There weren’t any clinical diagnoses or specialized doctors or pills to take because it didn’t exist, so they weren’t needed. Like most 8th graders, I was self-centered and naïve in my thinking, unobservant of the world that wasn’t in my immediate reach. So, though I may have heard the medical terms in health class, depression didn’t exist in my world.
Then one day, it was the entirety of it. And since that day, it's been a looming figure constantly reminding me of its presence. While I had my own struggles, it’s the struggles of the ones I love that I feel most impacted by. Speaking from personal experience with depression, watching someone you love feel so worthless and unable to function without the interference of the extreme melancholy is far more painful than your own struggle.
I’m going to admit it and say that there are moments when I want to scream the classic line, “Snap out of it!” but that comes from a place of frustration of being unable to help or “fix” when I see my loved ones hurting so much. Spending the day in bed has a whole new meaning when you’ve seen someone unable to get out of theirs for months, going to Rite Aid means picking up medication along with shampoo, and “How are you doing?” holds a new connotation.
I think it's important to continue to recognize your own emotions while supporting someone else’s. It's hard not to feel lonely and abandoned when they’re away at appointments or holed up in their room. Acknowledging those feelings is important, but so is recognizing that it's not the intention to spark those dark emotions. It's hard not to be angry when they lash out, but you can hold them accountable without provoking a fight; it isn’t necessarily you they’re lashing out at but their own thoughts and frustrations. It’s a hard balancing act of wanting to put your emotions in front of theirs, but reminding yourself that yours have the weight of stability while theirs are riding a rollercoaster of dark thoughts, physical exhaustion and dosage.
For me, loving someone with depression is hard. It is hard being in my youth and not always putting myself first. A lot of the time I feel guilty for being away at school and away from those that need me. I feel guilty for being out with friends. I feel guilty crying about my grades or a boy or a friendship, knowing my tears will dry within an hour and the significance of my problems will diminish and then I feel guilty about burdening someone who is unable to brush away their problems the way I brush away mine. It is a lot of worrying and a lot of “How can I help?” For me, loving someone with depression is hard, but it has made me a better person.
How can someone else’s troubles make me a better person? It has taught me patience, waiting for literal and figurative doors to open. It has given me a new understanding of selflessness, an awareness that it doesn’t always have to be about me or about what I want. It has taught me positivity, with the knowledge that things can change and that focusing on the worst possible circumstance isn’t going to produce that change. It has taught me that definitive statements like “you can” and “you will” are far more beneficial for everyone than “maybe” and silence. It has taught me a new understanding of communication; I am a linguist who is able to float between the spoken word and facial expressions, knowing that body language can be as absolute of a statement as any words. Loving someone with depression has taught me a whole new sense of unrestricted love that there aren’t enough words in the world to describe.
I can’t hold claim to the title of “expert” nor do I think there are surefire tips and tricks to loving someone with depression. I think its a constant learning of how to live alongside someone, accepting them for who they are and helping them how you can. It's a struggle, but you must accept and recognize that struggle and see how you can work together to overcome it. I think it is a lot of ups and downs and “What is going on?” confusion. It's a lot of listening, talking, and reassurance, and then repeating that process over and over until a sense of comfort is reached. It is a lot of putting someone before yourself and becoming a better person for it.
