I have depression. There, I said it. Not the blues or a short term depression, but a life-long battle kind of thing. I come from a very dysfunctional home. My father was a verbally abusive, very controlling, mean, sadistic person. He was cruel and neglectful to my mother, who also fought depression.
It’s not an easy thing to admit. I know that people want to and try to understand, but unless you’ve lived through this hell, I don’t think you can imagine it. I don’t want to be a downer. I don’t want to be a hermit, not answer phone calls, So I try to fake it enough to get by.
I can’t work anymore. I had to leave a job I truly loved. It was an awful decision to make. I quit with the hope that I will be able to go back one day. My doctor had suggested I quit and go on disability but that seemed like defeat. It felt like losing, like I was no longer a contributor. I looked almost the same though.
I didn’t want to admit why I had to leave my job. I also have a medical condition so I sometimes said that was the reason I left the job when people asked. I told my doctor I felt stupid that I could not do my job. He told me I have depression and cannot work until I am better. He reminded me that depression is a medical condition.
Some days I think, Oh I could go back to work! And then I remember it takes an effort for me to get into the shower some days, too. I am looking forward to the feeling that YES, I can work again! I miss my job, I miss my work friends. I miss contributing. Right now I have to work on getting better.
I have depression, but I haven’t given up.