In Greek Mythology, the titan Atlas is condemned to carry the heavens on his shoulders. As punishment for siding against the Olympians in war, Atlas was forced to carry the heavens in order to prevent the conjoining of earth and heaven. In much of Greek art, spectators can see Atlas burdened by the heavy weight which the celestial sphere has placed on his shoulders. Upon hearing the eternal torment which was bestowed upon Atlas and viewing the drawings, sculptures, and figures which depict the Titan’s struggle, most cannot fully comprehend what it must be like to hold a heavy weight on their shoulders for eternity. Some, however, are forced to follow in Atlas’ footsteps.

I have been battling depression for as long as I can remember. However, surrounded by a family full of perfect mental health, I was met with skepticism. I quickly realized that even psychologists and therapists had no idea what it felt like to live with a disease no one could visibly notice. I can remember being in my second year of college and attending regular appointments at the school’s therapist. I was under the immense pressure of transferring from a life of travel and studying abroad to a stationary life in Poughkeepsie, New York. On top of that, anyone who knows me understands my intense nature as a perfectionist. I pressured myself profusely to live up to the academic standards of a 4.0 which I had just gained a semester prior. The academic stress and stress of attending numerous club meetings and activities, maintaining a job, and maintaining personal life all compounded on top of my depression to lead to massive anxiety attacks and bouts of extreme depression. Upon visiting the therapist, she had mentioned with all certainty that I was not depressed, I was just sad. It wasn’t until I visited an actual psychologist that I was finally diagnosed with the mental disorder.

However, even though one knows the symptoms of a disease does not necessarily mean one knows what it feels like to be forced to carry this burden. My mom is a school psychologist. She has been in the profession for the entirety of her professional life. She is highly admired and considered the best at what she does. After years of study and experience, I have no question that she is familiar with signs of depression. However, when I told her of my symptoms and of my suspicions towards having depression, she deduced that I was just sad as well. Even today, after being officially diagnosed with the mental disorder, she consistently asks why I’m feeling depressed. Let me tell you why this is a bad thing to ask. Those who are sad are sad because of something. You lost your balloon. You’re sad. You forgot to DVR your favorite show. You are sad. Your cat died. It sucks, but you are still sad. Sadness can be controlled and altered to become happiness. You lost your balloon, was sad, bought a new balloon, and became happy. You forgot to DVR your show, was sad, watched it a week later, and now you are happy. Your cat died, you’re sad, you thought of happy moments with your cat, and now you are happy. Do you understand? The difference is depression has no cause. There is no way to alter depression. One day, you can be on top of the world. The next, you can be depressed, desperately trying to stay in bed all day. Depression has no schedule of when it will hit. It comes and goes as it pleases with no warning or cure.

The worst part about having depression is its invisibility. Being depressed is not like a broken bone or the stomach bug passing along from one person to the next. You can’t call into work or skip class because you are depressed without it being considered an invalid excuse. Many believe, as my mother or therapist, that it is just sadness, or that you are sad and lazy. You are expected to do more and act more than someone with a physical disability. That’s exactly what depression is: a disability. Except it is made even worse because people can’t see its harsh reality. With an injury such as a cut, people can see the pain it causes you and how deep the gash goes. With depression, no one can see the size of the globe you are forced to carry much as Atlas did. No one can gauge your pain or struggle. Therefore, no one who has never had depression can fully understand what it is like.

So what is it like? I briefly mentioned some side effects which come with depression, but they extend even further. The first and most obvious is being depressed. I already mentioned the difference between depression and feeling sad. To reiterate, the act of being sad is much less of a burden than being depressed. When you are depressed, by definition, you are sad. However, you are also suicidal, tired, stressed, and emotional. The world really does feel like it is coming to an end with every minuscule action or reaction. You want to just lay in bed and sleep for hours on end, no matter how much sleep you got the previous night. You get agitated at the littlest things. The slightest offset of the daily routine sparks in you a need to scream. It feels like a totally different being has taken over you from the inside out, and you can’t control it. You don’t even know when it will end; you just hope it does. Finally, much like Atlas, those with depression feel the constant strain of the weight of the world on our shoulders. A heavy burden keeps dragging us down, though we have no idea what that burden is or how to rid ourselves of it. Much like I assume Atlas must have done, we come to terms with its existence, accepting our fate and knowing not everyone can understand what it is like.