So, I just finished reading The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath. Excuse me while I dust off the pure magic and absolute artistry that is Sylvia Plath. Needless to say, I loved the book. Love is still not strong enough of a word. I was astonished. On January 14, 1963, Sylvia Plath better described depression than doctors, pastors, pamphlets, and WebMD combined X 1,000.

Now, I understand that what she describes does not depict everyone’s experience, but I think it’s pretty darn close. She poetically crafts the trails the mind travels when in a depressive state. Her words seem like actual brush strokes to a painting of a place you look at and say “oh. I’ve been there.” She creates the leaps, jumps, and bounds that the state of a depressed person navigates while caught in the seemingly ceaseless fog. She seamlessly sweeps you up in her depictions of the hollowed out space where motivation and hope have been chiseled away. Oh, I could go on, but you probably already hate me, right?

Well, clearly, this book got me thinking.

Why is depression so difficult to talk about?

I think it stems from a few issues and the grounds of these issues are not equipped to harvest conversion, grow empathy, or water perspective.

One issue in particular that stunts discussion is the uniformed belief of understanding. Now, this is not bashing anyone who tries to understand depression when they may not have the experience, it’s the self assumption that they do understand without truly having grasped what it means. What’s that saying again? “Assume' makes an 'ass' out of 'u' and 'me'” (pardon my french). In all situations, I find that it is never safe or my place to assume I know and understand the hurt, pain, and experience of someone else. My job is not to tell people how they feel. While I do not want to discourage people to reach out to others, I do want to caution people to reach out in kindness and not in assumed understanding. Assuming you understand doesn't make you seem open and approachable. It makes people feel that you are closed to the idea of truly wanting to understand.

Another issue that I notice is the surprising lack of empathy. It seems like a no brainer to be kind and extend a little extra grace to those we know who may be struggling with depression. But, strangely enough, there is a large amount of impatience, harshness, and judgement. I think this may stem from the definition of depression colloquially being translated as just “being sad.” If people, even inadvertently, hold this perspective of depression, it kind of makes sense for them to be impatient. People get sad all the time, it’s an emotion, one we experience often, some more than others, but it’s just that. Depression is not being sad. It’s not. And to look at it that way shuts down a conversation with someone who may be struggling with it. If people try to put depression into a nice little box (includes protective case and tote to bring around your “sad friends!”) it won’t work. You can’t. There’s a lot of shades it comes in and to attempt to simplify it is hurtful to the people that suffer from it. The hard part is sometimes this is done inadvertently or with good intentions. To me, empathy in these situations is not holistically understanding every morsel of depression, it’s knowing how hurt feels, how being alone feels, how the feeling of drowning feels. We know these feelings. All that is necessary sometimes is to stretch those beyond our understanding and empathize. Not always easy but so incredibly important. Not always completely successful but completely necessary.

The last one is perspective. To me, this is the one that puts so much into context, though half of the battle is not applying someone else’s struggle into your context. A kid with a million toys losing one of the toys and a kid with one toy losing his only toy is different. Silly example? Maybe. But I think it can be pretty relevant. It’s not about putting pain on scales, comparing hurt, or doling out the correct amount of Pity Cards. It’s just understanding the contexts are not the same. It’s not about who deserves to be depressed and who doesn’t, it’s about seeing pain and struggles through a perspective that is in context or to recognize it may be in a context we don’t understand. There’s a quick fix to contexts we don’t understand, and the answer is in issue 1. Don’t assume. Sometimes the perspective you need is one where you don’t completely understand someone’s context but you love, extend grace, and care beyond all the contexts.

I’m not an expert. Trust me, if there’s one thing I have not mastered it’s the human mind, emotions, calculus, and pretty much everything under the sun. I do, however, find myself a rookie in navigating and weeding out my assumptions, watering my empathy, and stretching, shattering, and growing my perspectives.