All I can think of when it comes to being depressed as fuck is how inconvenient or annoying it must be for other people... hah... and that's one of the most real issue with depressive episodes, I feel.
When we keep treating shitty emotions as the worst thing to happen to society, we make it so minds that are plagued think death would be better than existence... if that existence includes adding to the shitty emotions the world carries within it.
And this is how I feel. Do we really want to die as a means to run from depression... or do we want to die to run from people's judgements or the negative impact we have on others when we're in a state like this, regardless of whether those impacts and judgements are perceived or actual?
When we raise people to believe they should only touch and impact other humans if they're totally fine, we teach them to self-quarantine.
Fuck all this noise. "It's mental health week. Let's talk about how to prevent suicide. Help people know they're not alone. That the feelings will pass. That they should wait it out." BULLSHIT. You have to change societal messages if you really want a change. Not individual situations.
I get it. The individual approach is to try to save that individual in the moment, because oftentimes it's too late to help them via societal change. The messages are already ingrained. But people who are traumatized to believe those who suffer these things are just plagues on society... They need to really see that we're not in order to believe it. One person saying, "I promise you're not," won't win against the millions of interactions that tell you you are. People tell you, "You're feelings aren't a problem," with their mouths while simultaneously telling you just how problematic you are via their actions and other words.
People want to know how I am "brave" enough to show my struggles so publicly. I'm not brave. I'm angry. I'm angry that our world so easily allows people to feel the way I do. I'm so angry... and this is my act of defiance. This is my screaming and shouting and shouting into the world. My "fuck you" to the world.
This is me saying I won't let the world use the excuse of, "We didn't know!"
Fuck you.
You knew but it wasn't convenient for you. Just admit and accept it.
I get it. Most of the time other people's difficult shit isn't convenient for me either. But I don't try to lie about it.
Stop patting yourselves on the back like you're actually some sort of savior to the depressed, emotionally tortured people out there. Like you're some sort of ally that deserves celebrating. Just pull your pants up and accept the fact that you're as broken and shitty and selfish as the rest of us.
This is my act of defiance. I hope one day I die with the world watching. No one is allowed to tell themselves that if they knew they would've done more.
Just admit to yourself it's not close enough for you to actually care. Because that's the truth about all the pains in the world: climate, wars, genocides...
I'm guilty. You're guilty. We're all damned guilty. Just fucking accept it and get off your damned high horse.
If I die by my own hands one day, I hope the world watches.
And if it causes some minor degree of cognitive dissonance between what someone wants to believe about themselves and what their life choices communicate... I hope it saves someone else's life down the line.
And when you finally accept that maybe you're also a messy-ass human with shitty levels of emotional room to afford others, maybe THEN we'll breed a generation of people with true EMPATHY.
Because it's not about being able to afford space for the entire world within your limited resources. That's impossible. That can't be expected from any human. It's about existing empathetically.
If you don't have space within yourself and your life and your mind and your emotions and psyche, give other people room to step in and offer their space. Or give the sufferer room to suffer... even if it means they suffer alone.
Don't make it about you!
I'm heartbroken hearing stories from friends; knowing that most people's suffering is exponentially greater because people who claim to care can't get their head out of their asses enough to merely give people space to suffer! I'm heartbroken and angry as fuck.
Everyone tries to talk about suicide prevention while coddling the people who aren't suicidal. Because let's not make people uneasy or uncomfortable, 'cause making people feel (and face) difficult feelings within themselves is worse than letting someone fucking kill themselves.
There are people suffering from specific things that speak out now to self-advocate. And rightfully so, because who knows about something more than someone who suffers from that thing?
But the nature of depression (or other) that leads to suicide is it tends to cause you to shrink away from people. Society teaches you to do so. And these people who have chosen to end their lives because of it... they're not here to self-advocate anymore.
That's why I say so damned much about it.
Fuck this world. This society. Full of fake-ass people.
I fight my whole life feeling like I wear a mask in order to fit in, but who REALLY wears the mask?!? So many people living their lives pretending to be okay, 'cause god forbid we show each other that we deal with complex feelings that aren't always pretty. How did this become the worst thing to reveal about ourselves?
The reason I live my misery out loud, as though I'm in a fishbowl and people can just sit and watch, is because people like me usually don't. We live our pain behind curtains and veils.
I want my life to be a case study. I'm all about data and I want my life to mean something. I want to help put more data into the world to be studied and understood. I want this, in case it can help save someone later.
That's why it hurts so much when people push back on me sharing openly: because they're proving my whole point. They're embodying exactly what I'm trying to fight against.
So here I am, transcribing my entire raw, emotional tirade into one piece because I can't say it any better than I'll say it when I'm in the moment feeling it most. Once the emotions settle, I, too, will go back to some degree of going along with societal norms.
The irony? There are going to be people who make this raw sharing about them. They're going to be angry and upset by this. Because this... this is the world we live in. A world of traumatized people who must fight for space for their feelings and traumas... because as a society we don't afford people space.
The result? Everything is ALWAYS about YOU.
And I get it. My trauma makes me read into things the same way. I just think... all of this... it's one reason we have so many people killing themselves.
And most people reading this who know me are going to think, "Oh, they're in another one of their episodes of deep depression," and they'll wait it out. But maybe one day people will be waiting it out and there won't be any more waiting it out... because there won't be any coming out of it. It'll be the final deep depression I go through.
And this is why I want to advocate. To say something... but who am I kidding, really, though? It makes no difference sharing words and thoughts like this. The world will continue on the same way it has... waiting for people to kill themselves because it's easier to be sad after someone does than it is to confront the hard truths about, on the macro level, our society's structure and, on the micro level, the way we are towards each other as messy human beings.
Stop trying to pretend that messiness is not inherently part of the human experience and human interaction. You're just making it harder and harder for yourself and others. The world keeps teaching people to step in... to lean in. People won't give you space so you have to take it for yourself. What if people all started stepping back and leaning back? What if we all made space for each other? The same result would exist: people would have space; it's just a complete shift in how we get that space. But that's a utopian dream that will never happen...
So here I am... leaning in. Stepping in. Here I am hoping to push and take a little space for me and those like me. The ones who have yet to take our own lives, but might tomorrow... or the next day... or the next week... or the next year.
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