de{press} : January 10, 2022

I’ve struggled with depression since I was young. I didn’t know what it was then. I thought it was a form of daydreaming because I would feel paralyzed inside my internal landscape but escaping above. In these moments I was unable to get up and out and tuned out the world around me.

“It’s because you’re a pisces… you daydream naturally” people would say to me. Yes, that’s true. I find I escape to other worlds, realities and outcomes more than the average human.

Depression is different. It’s a blank, empty darkness that consumes. It lacks vision.

When I was a teenager anger stepped up as my bodyguard. This anger continued to harden and my feelings were de-pressed, pushed down, unaccessible. The weight of my years at this point was too much for me to handle. I was in danger most of the time and had to stay strong and think quick; I didn’t have time to f e e l.

I would go to the gym and exercise for 2 hours a day after running 6 miles that morning. I wouldn’t eat because having a belly full of food meant that I would feel something. I tried to eradicate the anger and everything beneath it.

I recall depressed seasons quicker than the other seasons. It’s as if those memories were burned like branding.

I’ve tried a plethora of things to heal from depression like therapy, exercise, taking action through the sludge to supplementation. I never did pharma and I’m personally grateful for that (I in no way judge anyone for that route because you need anything to function and move forward).

When I went through ED recovery (well if I’m being honest I’m still in it) I thought eating well consistently would make it go away.

One day I was breakfast with a psychiatrist that explained to me how depression is: to depress; depress emotion.

I immediately went into a daydream imagining someone depressing everything and getting stuck at the diaphragm. This moment gave me clarity I hadn’t had prior. I always felt that stuckness around my diaphragm. The drive to do nothing and the motivation to be stuck in time.

From that moment I tried to let myself feel.

And from there I realized that I naturally feel too much. The feeling all the time was overwhelming and I felt gratitude for the low, quiet depressed moments for giving me a break.

Was this an escape for me?

Maybe.

Over the past 3 years I’ve been committed to finding the bottom of this depression. It’s become a familiar, comfortable internal landscape. Maybe it’s kept me safe beyond the need..

Maybe I’m terrified of leaving.. it’s been reliable since I was young.

I do know there’s a level of comfort and happiness some people possess that I fear I’ll never experience. A wholeness.

The outside always looks different than the inside.