TL;DR? The most honest thing I may ever write.

I would like to begin this post with a nod to Hyperbole and a Half. This is probably the greatest graphic description of depression you could possible find.
Now then (what a funny idiom), I created this blog with many grand schemes in mind. Today my scheme has become a chronicling of two things: the complete failure of the American education system and my navigation of a horrible bout of depression. The first is definitely having an effect on the latter.

Depression by echok (devantart.com)

Let's begin with depression. I'm diagnosed bipolar with "generalized anxiety," meaning that I seize up and have panic attacks at inopportune times. Bipolar often takes effect in adolescence. I believe it did for me, but I wouldn't accept a diagnosis until my hormones chilled out a bit. I think many teenagers are misdiagnosed because their brain chemistry is going through such rapid change, and sometimes it just takes longer to learn how to cope with these changes. You hit your late teens/early twenties and suddenly you're sane again. This was not my case. Instead I fell into some pretty deep depression.
What sucks the most about depression is that being depressed is depressing. What do I mean by this? Because my depression is generally caused by a chemical imbalance, indeed environmental factors definitely contributing, generally it's a feeling that may come and go as it pleases. The absolute impotence is depressing in itself. It seems stupid to be depressed, especially when people ask, "Why are you depressed?" I don't have a real answer other than, "I just am." How invalidating.
Being depressed is like being thrown into the Sarlac pit. Unless you're Boba Fett, you don't have much of a chance of escaping. At least it seems that way. The utterly hopeless feeling of isolation, which is often unintentionally purposeful (yes, that sentence makes sense when you're depressed), can have the gravitational force of Jupiter (which is also my planet if you're into that sort of thing). Your well-meaning friends who deal with either none or the mildest form of depression will try to cheer you up and tell you how there's so much to live for, and that's wonderful of them. But it's completely ineffective. No matter what, I truly can only see the negative side of things, and people who don't have first-hand experience with this get tired of your complaining and negativity--even those who really care. God bless those people, even when they give up.
Now, what I find to be most exhausting about depression is the constant, obsessive thoughts of how to end it. I don't advocate suicide for myself. I think it is selfish. Even when I feel like no one in the universe gives a damn about me, I know that I would devastate quite a few people if I prematurely left this world. Nonetheless, it's still tempting to just not wake up.
Still, I trudge on, doing my best to function. The older I get, the more responsibilities I have, and I can't in good conscience abandon them no matter how alluring the thought may be. All I want to do is sink into my bed, wrapped in my favorite quilt, listen to depressing music, and fade into nothingness. I don't have that option. I throw fits and push people away, then I quickly regret my behavior and long for them to come back to me, to comfort me, hug me for as long as they can and tell me that I'm stronger than I feel.
This is simply an introduction to the Sharknado of Negativity that is my life at the moment. I'll continue to update as I receive more epiphanies of self-awareness, but let's sum this all up for now.
True depression--not just feeling sad in passing--is a dangerous, self-destructive, self-sabotaging way to live. However, there's little-to-no choice involved. My brain decided to deprive me of dopamine, amongst other chemicals, and I can either give in or tough it out. Luckily, I'm a relatively self-aware individual, and I have the capacity to reach out when I need to instead of being reduced to crying for attention (which is not a shameful act; it just sucks to get that low). By the way, another inconvenience of depression is that you cry a lot, sometimes for no reason at all. You just have to.
Thank you, Val, for feeling the abyss with me and helping me be OK with it enough to get comfortable and ride it out instead of pressing the eject button.
Please, feel free to comment. I encourage it, actually. Maybe this is helpful for you who are going through this or for you who have to see someone else suffer.


"Fuck you; thank you; I love you all." (Streetlight Manifesto)