I'm getting depressed again. And not just that superficial, "oh woe is me" type sh*t, but legit depressed. It's happened enough times now where I know the difference and know when it's setting in, but still I feel so powerless to stop it.
It's this feeling of loneliness, a retreating into myself further despite knowing I should try doing the opposite. It's like drowning with nothing to hold onto, and nothing to hold you in place so that you stop sinking. It's shame, and not wanting to tell people how you really feel for fear of bursting into tears when you know you're the "rock" to them and no one needs a crumbling stone. Contrary to popular belief, it isn't silent; it's loud, obnoxious negative thoughts that drown out anything good. And it's here.
I started noticing it and realizing it wasn't a normal thing in my mid-teens. Everyone else was always some variant of happy, or at least compliant, in their lives and the twists and turns, whereas I rarely was either. Then, just like now, I thought that people have too much going on in their lives to really see that sinking behind my eyes, so they ramble on about this or that when I'm wishing they'd feel it or at least see it. They never do, and I always lose faith in people and their supposed heightened emotional perception.
As the person other people go to for solace and strength, I find this feeling a weak thing that makes me less of who I'm supposed to be. I'm supposed to be a beacon, I'm supposed to be constant. I'm supposed to be...all these things that I can't be when I get this way. And it makes me angry, not only at myself, but at the people that surround me. They keep calling and talking and adding so much more noise...and the moment I try and interject, to let someone in on the fact that I'm not myself, they suddenly have something more pressing to do.
That always stings, no matter how or when it happens; no matter how I feel generally, people using me cuts deep and makes me question my want of company, companionship and whether I am better off being lonely than surrounded by people who may or may not care. It spirals and spirals until I convince myself to be alone and work through it myself, but the older I get, the longer it takes to pull myself back out of it. But I never feel like I have the option to share or shove that part of me onto someone else, and I never feel as if that's fair to them.
Moral of the story is, I'm depressed. I'm working on getting out of it. And if you know a "strong" and steady person in your life, on occasion, in between telling them how fabulous or f*cked up your life may be, ask about them. Notice them. See them. Be there for them. You could be the person giving hope to the hopeless and letting a person who loves you know love them too by simply being there.