depression
It is not just a matter of feeling sad; discover an honest view of the mental, emotional and physical toll of clinical depression.
Depression
Living with depression is one of the hardest and most difficult things to live with in life. Depression is very unpredictable. You never know what your mood is going to be like in the next hour, minute, or second. Some people say that people who suffer from this are just attention seekers, well let me tell you that they are very wrong. Just because we need more reassurance than others and we might push you away, that does not mean we are attention seeking. Some people with this mental health problem cope in different ways, but no one should judge us for the way we cope because we are doing the best we can to get through this. We don’t need your input on the way we do things. I know some people hate talking about things like this, but this is a very important subject to talk about because it is a very common health issue with teenagers. Don’t get me wrong, you can suffer from this at any age, but it is most common for the teen years. This is something the whole world needs to be aware of because it’s a very useful skill to have if you have mental health training. One of the most annoying things that we are told is that “everything will be fine.” Don’t say things like that because that is not helping in any way. Another thing is “I know how you feel.” No you don’t! Everyone is different, no one is the same, and that is why it’s such a difficult thing to cope with. It is very important that if you suffer from depression that you have a trustworthy and reliable person to talk to, because no one should suffer in silence!! People say living with depression you should always try and find something to do or distract yourself. This is very hard to do because with the mental health issue, you lose a lot of interest in the things you like doing. For example, I used to listen to music as a way of coping, but now I don’t like listening to it at all because none of the different type of genres interest me. I’ll get annoyed at myself for it because I know I used to love it and now I would have to find another way to cope.
By Chloe Aylott8 years ago in Psyche
5 Things Not to Say to Someone With Depression
When you find out that someone you care about has depression it is natural to want to help. It is important to choose your words carefully when offering advice to those with depression; you may end up causing more harm than good. Here are five things that you shouldn't say to a depressed person and what you can say instead.
By Jessica Purvis8 years ago in Psyche
The Unfortunate Perks of Suffering from Mental Illness
WARNING: Suicide, Self-Harm, Death, and a Hefty Read. This is real and not a fictional writing piece, just so everyone knows. This is the story of my struggle with my mental health. This is very emotional, so please bear with me and the possible writing mistakes that may happen. I've been terrified to post this, but I just said "Fuck it," and did it anyway.
By Michelle Lui8 years ago in Psyche
My Hometown + Depression
When I Was 10 I moved to Harker Heights, Texas, leaving my birthplace and hometown of Austin. Let me be clear when I say that, like a move is for most 10-year-olds, it was devastating. This hour drive meant leaving the best place on Earth, my very own Eden and moving to a desolate wasteland of suburbia in a deep dark corner of hell. By this time I wasn’t even a stranger to the whole packing up and starting over routine. I’d already done it four or five times. I’d been all over Texas, across state lines and overseas. But all roads always lead back to Austin. This move, however, even at that age, felt different. The permanence was obvious. From the custom build to the close proximity to a Veteran’s Affairs Hospital that my grandfather desperately needed, everything about this house and move was meticulously planned. This was my grandparents’ retirement home.
By Devon Rooks8 years ago in Psyche
There Are Things Worse than Wanting to Die
I used to want to die. And that, in and of itself, is a tragic epic about family drama, self-doubt, and the pressures of perfection. But why I wanted to die isn’t important yet. It just needs to be known that there was a time and space in which I existed where I wanted to end my life. So much so that I tried to prepare those closest to me for a world that didn’t have me in it. What a fucking plan that was. All that “preparation” did was end some of my most valued friendships and start a war with my mother that we don’t really talk about and never resolved. More importantly, it taught me that you could come to a place where you decide not to take your life and still lose it. But that’s neither here nor there now because the feeling that my life had value was short-lived. Honestly, I faked getting better (like ‘better’ isn’t a moving target) on some “I’m doing this for the people I love but more importantly I’m doing it for me” bullshit. All the while, for the last three years, I was going back and forth between saying “fuck this depression” and wanting to drive my car off of a bridge. ‘Was’ being the critical word there. Things are different now.
By Devon Rooks8 years ago in Psyche
Postpartum
I have had this written for quite some time. It has taken me months to accept my mental health issues and learn to cope with them. Finding myself has not been easy. Please no harsh judgments, no assumptions. If you have questions just ask. Here is my experience with postpartum depression as I was going through it. Prior to me finally seeking help.
By Victorya Gomez8 years ago in Psyche
Prisoner in My Own Mind
A sensitive subject. A subject that used to be tip-toed around and ignored. Luckily, that's not really the case anymore. It's not the first topic of conversation for everyone, but it's definitely acknowledged more. I guess, because it is a sensitive subject, most people feel awkward and embarrassed to accept and speak about mental health; either personally or in general. I was one of those people. I thought it was something to be ashamed of; that it wasn't normal. I convinced myself it was problem that would go away if I didn't feed it any attention. It did the opposite.
By Sasha-Leigh Hazlewood8 years ago in Psyche
When Your Depression Isn’t Worthy
So I am in my mid 30s. I am married. I have three children aged between 4-14. I have a job. Actually, I have two jobs. I have experienced tragedy, recently. But long before all the recent heartache, tragedy, and trauma, I suffered with depression and anxiety.
By Holi Jackson8 years ago in Psyche
My Own Raw '13 Reasons Why' Story
I have lived with suicide ideation since I was 13 years old. I grew up in a strict Jehovah's Witness family and formed sort of Stockholm syndrome effects along with suicide ideation. My captors, in this case, being my mother and the rest of my siblings. I ignored my depression because I would hear that it was a teenager phase. After I turned 20, I had come to realize it was not a teenager phase. After I sought therapy behind my mother's back, I had concluded that my illness was not an illness but the direct factor of my religion causing me extreme anxiety. As a Jehovah's Witness, you are controlled in every aspect of your life: what job you get, what friends you have, what you do for entertainment, what you can and cannot wear. I was a mess and developed social anxiety from being constantly observed and judged by my church and family and even by my closest two-faced friends there. When I turned 24, I hit a breaking point, I couldn't be around people without freaking out and had to quit my job as a waitress because I would throw up. I felt so broken and trapped and had no friends outside of church because the Jehovah's Witness church enforces you to only associate with people of the church. I felt this was it, this is how they control you; they tell you to not talk to anyone else because when you want to leave you'll feel forced to stay. At this point, my suicide ideation became more active and I tried drinking roach poison but found the bottle to be empty. See, I didn't care if it made me sick and didn't kill me, I was just trying to destroy my body at this point. I didn't care how and this was the beginning of severe suicide ideation. I had lost all fear to die. I had created an Instagram account blankxspace1991 (which you're welcome to follow) or at the time was emilieautumnfanpage and decided to vent online to strangers. This would be the beginning of so much pain and misery. These strangers offered me a place to stay after moving out with an old church friend and things going south. I decided to move with a girl online that I have only spoken to on the phone from California. I had continued my suicide ideation but met a guy online from Brazil around the time that I lived with my mom. After moving to California my plan was to see this boy and I made him my reason to not kill myself. He wouldn't leave me alone but I had broken up with him two times, telling him I was going to kill myself. I did not kill myself and we got back together. After a terrible disagreement between my online friend and her boyfriend, I was kicked out. I moved in with my boss who, to my surprise, lived in a dirty warehouse; he tried to harass me and I still stayed. After the suicide ideation continued, I often thought of stabbing myself but feared not having the strength to keep stabbing I only thought of it. I kept crying and my boss told me I needed to smile and I lost my mind and got fired for not smiling. Though in reality, I probably got fired for not giving in to him. I left the warehouse and moved in with another friend but had to leave because they were under housing. I moved to Dallas with, yet again, another online stranger friend. I had decided to go to the hospital and had broken up with the boyfriend from Brazil after fearing I would seriously kill myself this time. I left without saying anything to him. Instead of killing myself, I admitted myself to a mental hospital called the Seay Center in Plano, Texas. I had expected that I was in hands of professionals but I was not. My psychiatrist, Dr. Aina, wanted to focus on talking about meds. He did not care or maybe he just preferred to ignore the therapy part. For the nine days that I stayed there I felt suicidal, I even thought of trading rooms with someone that was sleeping next to a schizophrenic patient. Though I expressed my suicide ideation of wanting to be killed by that patient in group therapy. If I'm here and want to get help, I can't hide any bit of my thoughts. The new patients were starting to be predominately alcoholic men to which I felt triggered after the incident with my boss. I went to my room and cried and the medical technicians surrounded me. One medical technician named Janice came into my room to tell me to try making a mantra which helped her. She saw me crying and the last thing I can think of is anything positive. I told her I did not want to go because at the moment I was feeling terrible. My medication wasn't working, my suicide ideation continued thinking could I bang my head hard enough in the shower? Here is the perfect place to die I thought. Nobody knows me, nobody really can stop me. Janice then told me do you want to be sad in your room or do you want to try to feel better? I told her that I did not appreciate her using the word want. To which she repeated again do you want to be sad in your room? I said I don't want to do it. And she sighed, rolled her eyes, and stomped out of my room. To which I yelled at her, "Oh yeah you rolling your eyes is really going to make me feel better." That was my breaking point, my meds were not working and I was being attacked by this fucking bitch. This bitch that reminds me of every fucking person telling me that I want to be sad. Including that boyfriend from Brazil that called my depression and reactions immature.
By shemindfreak .8 years ago in Psyche
Postpartum Blues
Lethargic, lack of motivation, the relentless pessimistic attitude that pushes your loved ones away, these are a few of many different symptoms that one would experience with depression. But what if this all happened after welcoming a new bundle of joy into the world that is supposed to bring nothing but bliss and excitement? Whether they are embarrassed or completely unaware that they have it, very few women talk about post-partum depression. However, what if you knew you weren't alone, and that often times these feelings are completely normal and experienced by mothers across the world?
By Victoria Journey8 years ago in Psyche
