The Thing about Depression

Hiya. I know what you're thinking. "Oh my gosh, she's about to write another thing apologizing for ignoring her blog." Well...you're wrong. Ish. I'm not even apologizing because it's probably just annoying at this point. Instead, I'll be telling you about something very personal that may or may not shed some light on why I've been such an absentee blog mom lately.

One more thing before I start: I don't want your sympathy. I'm not asking for and don't expect pity. I'm not that badly off. I'm telling you all of this (assuming anyone actually reads my blog anymore) in hopes that someone, anyone, reads this and thinks "wow, me too." If you're that person, hey there. You aren't alone. I feel that way too.

Here goes.

The thing about depression is that it's not constant. Some days you wake up and all you want to do is lay there and not move and maybe just cry for awhile. Other days you wake up and you're happy and for just a second you think maybe, just maybe, you're okay. For just a moment, you have hope. And that hope, in its own way, is crueler than the sorrow. Because in a matter of seconds, minutes, hours, or days, it gets ripped away. And then you're back to that ache in your heart, that emptiness in your soul.
The thing about depression is that it's not obvious. It's not a giant, crippling thing where one day you're fine, and the next you stop getting out of bed. It's little stuff. Skipping church one week. Withdrawing from people a bit. Smiling less. Sleeping later. All stuff that could just be normal. On the outside, it doesn't look like you're crippled. But your heart certainly is.
The thing about depression is that people think it's this never ending darkness. It's not. Depression is about basking in the shadows. Searching for a light, seeing it in the distance, close enough to touch, but not to hold on to. 
The thing about depression....it's not what you think. Depression isn't crying every day, ignoring your friends, skipping every class. Depression is on again off again, twisting and turning, difficult to escape. Depression is like coming out of Novocaine after a rough dental procedure. You're still numb. You feel some things, but you're numb. The things you feel aren't quite right. You know you feel them, but you also know they don't feel the way they're supposed to. Laughter and joy and everything else...they just can't quite reach your soul. Depression creates distance. You feel far from everyone....including yourself.
The thing about depression is that it's unpredictable. One morning, you wake up and you're full of crushing sadness. A few hours later, you're happy, laughing with friends. Then, all the sudden, it hits you again, and you're sitting there laughing but you're also just so sad. Sometimes you're just sad and there's no rhyme or reason but you just aren't happy.
That's depression. You can't know what it is from a textbook. It's different for everyone, but that's what it is for me.