Black Comedy
aagbayani@theguidon.com
My motto used to be “Get off the cross; we need the wood.” It was sharp, no-nonsense and came with a hint of religious angst, so I liked it. Dealing with depression, though, made me rethink this maxim.
I decided to write this column, firstly, to put my experience with depression into words and, secondly, in the hope that I can get the conversation going. This isn’t a topic that’s discussed very openly in the Ateneo and I hope people will be able to understand depression and the clinically depressed better. Space is a concern, though, so I will only touch on some key points.
Trying to explain the reasons for my depression always feels like grasping at straws. Every time I manage to put it into words, the feeling becomes so small and trivial that to anyone listening, it seems that I shouldn’t be feeling it at all.
It’s not always something that comes with a clear, immediate cause. For me, it’s inexplicable and overpowering. Not being able to articulate a reason for it makes it even harder.
People often perceive depression as extreme sadness. In my experience, though, more than that overwhelming sadness, it’s a general indifference to life. There doesn’t seem to be anything to look forward to and the things that once brought me fulfillment have become entirely meaningless. Life seems to stretch ahead like an endless road to nowhere.
With the indifference comes a tendency to push people away and express disdain over everything. After all, if everything is pointless, why bother maintaining any semblance of harmony?
Very often, people fail to understand just how crippling the condition is. It came to the point where I sought emotional crutches such as alcohol. However, these only served to make me feel worse about myself.
It doesn’t help that we come from a culture where psychological problems aren’t given sufficient concern and seeking psychiatric help and medication are almost considered bourgeois cop-outs. Supposedly, you can deal with anything by sucking it up and moving on.
Others will invalidate your feelings by offering unwarranted advice on happiness or saying that there are people who have it worse than you. The thing is you smother someone with positivity and expect him or her to just become happy. Neither can you shame someone into happiness. These two common reactions I received only served to alienate me more and make me less inclined to share my feelings with other people.
I think I’m over the hump, though. I feel better more often and I’m dealing with the issues behind the depression. I’m starting to see that, as Allie Brosh said in her poignant webcomic on depression, “maybe everything isn’t hopeless bullshit.”
There are others still struggling with that hopeless bullshit, though. I’d just like to tell anyone who’s still there that the cross is tough to come down from, but you’ll make it.
Don’t be afraid to seek help that feels appropriate for you and your situation. Find that psychiatrist, counselor, family member or close friend you can talk to—but talk to someone. And I know everything seems pointless right now, but maybe there are reasons to hope. Consider that, at least.
