I have depression.
No, not the crippling type of depression that leaves me in my bed for days. I don't have trouble concentrating in school. I don't feel worthless every second of the day. Yes, there are times that I feel terrible about myself, but I usually don't let it show. It's not just a feeling, and it's not just a phase. I've had depression for years. I still have depression, even if it's not as severe as some others experience depression. The only difference with high functioning depression is that I am still able to get through the day, but I still always have my depression; my old, parasitic friend.
Some people try to write off high-functioning depression as a bullshit diagnosis, but this is not the case. High-functioning depression (technically called a mild to moderate persistent depressive disorder) can be really dangerous because people who experience it rarely get treatment, due to stigmas in society. This stigma associated with mental illness often deters people from getting help, which can make the depression even worse, and may even lead to suicide. In addition, many people do not understand how serious high-functioning depression can be, regardless if one show symptoms to the public or not.
I've had depression since the sixth grade. I denied it for years, even when friends, family, and teachers suggested that I get help. The thing is, I didn't want help. I didn't think that I needed it. I thought, "this will go away in a few days." And it would go away, but only for a time. Don't let your mind trick you into believing this, because it always comes back. In retrospect, I should have accepted the help, because maybe I would even be better off today. Maybe I wouldn't still be feeling this way. I'm glad that I finally came to terms with my depression, and now I can take the proper steps to help myself. This isn't the end of the road, however. There are still many miles to go before I feel happier again.
Some days I feel great and ready to take on the world. Other days...not so much, especially when I am stressed. As a college student, my worst days are during midterms or finals. The stress resurfaces my depression and I begin to feel hopeless, irritable, and worthless to society. I end up taking this stress and sadness out on my loved ones, which makes me feel even worse. Friends and family- if you are reading this, just know that this is unintentional and not directed towards you at all. I am stressed and I am tired, but I still care about you.
It's hard to live with high-functioning depression because many people do not believe it. When I tell people I have depression, their reaction is always something along the lines of, "What, really? You seem so happy and outgoing!" Yes, I seem happy and outgoing because that is how I present myself to the world. If only they could see how I really feel inside.
I do not want people to think that I am milking this. I am aware of my privilege, and I know that my mental illness isn't as serious as others. However, it is still a mental illness. It is still something that affects my day to day, even if I don't present that to the public. I am fortunate that I can still get out of bed and go to class and go to work and have a social life. However, others are not as fortunate, and I recognize that and hope that someday they will feel happiness again.
My point in writing this article is so those who have a similar experience as myself can realize that this is a mental illness, regardless of how mild or severe it may present itself. If you are feeling low and don't think that the mental illness is that bad, or that it will go away in a few days, I promise you... it won't. You still need to get the help that you need. Honestly, situations like this can become life or death within a matter of seconds. Don't let others tell you that you don't have it as bad as others. You are your own person, with your own experiences and feelings. You deserve help too. You deserve absolute happiness, even if it is just high-functioning depression.
Let's end the stigma.
