By. Amy Thomson
Depression is the feeling that an elephant and a whale are sitting on your chest while you try to do normal things that you just don’t give a shit about, like remembering to wash your underwear.
Depression is the feeling that you don’t feel an ounce of joy from the little things that used to make you howl with laughter.
Depression is having such a feeling of loathing and inner hatred that you don’t care what happens to you and you don’t care how you self sabotage.
Depression is ignoring your intuition that tells you things aren’t morally right, safe, or will impact your health negatively.
Depression is turning to drugs, or sex, or alcohol for any attempt to feel anything.
Depression is the single mum who’s struggling with two screaming children in Waitrose whose husband left because “she stopped wanting sex”, and just needs a fucking break.
Depression lives in that barista you just yelled at for fucking up your flat white.
Depression is wanting to sleep for days and wishing you could hibernate through winter, or just die peacefully in your sleep and hoping nobody would notice, but secretly knowing you’d be crushed if nobody noticed.
Depression is planning all the ways you’d kill yourself, but realizing you don’t have the courage to do it, wondering who would find you and wondering if your cat would eat you.
Depression is not wanting to change out of your pajamas to go to the shops, so you put a coat over them and wellies over your bed socks.
Depression is feeling alone and in pain every single day.
Depression is the constant struggle between wanting to be alone and wanting to be in company.
Depression is opening up to a friend who shuts you down and says that you need “professional medical help.”
Depression is that friend who keeps cancelling plans and who you called a “boring fuck” last week.
Depression is that friend who turns up to drinks and then goes quiet and sad and excuses herself to go home.
Depression is that guy that doesn’t have anyone to talk to for fear of being “weak” or “unmanly.”
Depression is your mum who doesn’t seem like she has the capacity to love you anymore, because she’s engulfed in pain.
Depression lives in the girl who you dumped by text because she “wasn’t fun anymore.”
Depression is in the sadness in the eyes of a friend who used to laugh about the world but now seems be glazed over in her expression.
Depression is in the friend who attention seeks for self-approval and a cry for help.
Depression is the guy who lies to his girlfriend about going to see his friends when he’s actually seeing a therapist.
Depression is having greasy hair for four days, hidden under dry shampoo because you’re too exhausted from staying alive to have time to wash it.
Depression lives in the new mother who feels guilty about “not having that new baby glow.”
Depression isn’t something that means your head is “fucked up” and “your brain needs medication it’s not working properly”.
Depression is feeling like your heart is being stabbed with a razor from the second you wake up to the moment you go to sleep.
Depression is waking up and going to sleep with the feeling of utter doom and despair.
Depression doesn’t mean you are broken.
Depression bands us together.
Depression means union and fighting to beat it together.
Depression means you are strong.
Depression means you are a warrior.
Depression means you battle every day through life and make it through each day and deserve a medal.
Depression means you are a mental health survivor.
Depression is in you, depression is in me, and it is not something to be ashamed of.
I want you to read this and know that you are not alone and we are in this together, and together we can beat it and get through.