depression
It is not just a matter of feeling sad; discover an honest view of the mental, emotional and physical toll of clinical depression.
Ask Me How I Am
We all know someone who suffers with depression, even if we don’t really know they are suffering. The world can become a dark and lonely place for that person, but it’s so easy to make a difference to them. Ask them how they are. From personal experience that one simple question can make all the difference and here is why.
By Grace O'Neill8 years ago in Psyche
The Reality of Living with Mental Illnesses
Mental illness can be classified as many things from anxiety all the way to serious psychological issues, and believe it or not most of the people you know probably suffer from mental health issues. It can affect their mood, how they work, and even their physical health. And guess what? There isn't a magic cure-all for it. In fact, it can only be maintained using proper methods or in serious cases, medication. I, myself, suffer from anxiety and depression and it is a constant war. The bad days are often triggered by life-changing events or devastating news. Ranting helps, herbal tea and music do too, but I will never be magically cured. That's the reality of it.
By Katelynn Marie 8 years ago in Psyche
Shine a Little Light
Depression is a topic that is typically avoided for many reasons. Some people feel they need to be strong for those around them. Sometimes it’s just simply frowned upon to discuss. More often than not, people want to be understood and felt like nobody around them can relate to their issues. I was officially diagnosed with mild to moderate depression and mild anxiety about a year ago. Though, looking back, I can tell I’ve had it much longer; this was the first time I addressed it.
By Jazmyne Smith8 years ago in Psyche
The Girl with the Many Tattoos
The greatest thing about depression is that it makes you feel that things can never be any other way. The hopelessness is so profound, no amount of external coercion can reason it away. I used to feel such a lack of control during my depressive state that I turned to the only thing I felt like gave me some control. I started self-harming. This is a story about how I managed to fight that impulse and did not allow my depression to overwhelm me.
By Ayesha Javed8 years ago in Psyche
I Am Depressed, Please Stop Telling Me to 'Cheer Up'
I am depressed. Please stop telling me to "cheer up." I remember the first time I heard the word "depression." I was 11 and in my first year at secondary school. My best friend at the time had obviously just learnt that this word meant "upset" or "sad" or any adjective that similarly describes a slightly disappointed or uneasy emotion or feeling. She used it to describe anything from there not being the dessert she liked in the lunch hall to having to do P.E. class (to be fair, a pretty depressing experience). I didn’t realise how serious it was to claim you were "depressed." At that age it’s very easy to throw around words without knowing the meaning. Unfortunately, we seem to continue to do so as adults. I actually just did, by claiming that P/E claim was depressing.
By Samantha Bentley8 years ago in Psyche
Infinity
Depression, what is it? It’s a ten-letter word that most people don’t take too seriously, a word that seems to have lost meaning, but a disease that so many people seem to be suffering from nowadays. Nobody seems to know how it originated but depression isn’t something easy. I should know. Depression makes you feel the lowest and causes you to reach rock-bottom. It’s not something that can be fought with a prescription and most definitely not a trend; people don’t make up depression for attention, it is real. Everything seems to be your fault and nothing you do seems right, or so to you it seems. The only way it can be solved is by taking your own life, or so you think.
By Francis G. Povis8 years ago in Psyche
A Funny Title for a Depressing Story
I was born in October 6, 1999 and raised in Long Beach, California. I've lived a moderate life with a few ups and downs and had a great family who loved me. I may have been loved, but I was isolated, put down by my ex-step-father, and humiliated by classmates. The reason I bring all of this up is because it left a metal and emotional scar that I have to carry. I am now 18 and to this day I still carry this burden that was laid upon me.On July 1, 2018, I came to New Braunfels, Texas to visit my family for the summer; but I also came to Texas to get away from everything that I deal with everyday back in Long Beach. It's not that I dislike my family and friends; it's just that it's too much to handle.
By Angel Tapia8 years ago in Psyche
No, Karen, I Am Not Lazy. I Am Depressed
Let me start off by telling you a little bit of my struggle with mental illness. It started when I was about 12 years old. I was in middle school. I didn't know much of anything about mental illness. All I knew was that I was sad a lot. I felt out of place constantly and I thought about wanting to die a lot. I thought it was normal, because hormonal preteen... These feelings continued throughout high school, and even got worse after the death of my father. I tried my hardest to hide it from everyone. I started self-harming. Then my senior year I swallowed my medicine cabinet. Didn't do anything other than make me sick. However, I did follow puking with mentioning what I did to my cousin on the old Myspace. She called my sister who called my mom. It got worse. Now, not only was I un-diagnosed depressed, and having panic attacks when I didn't even know what panic attacks were, I was also being told how selfish and disappointing I was by every member of my family. Nobody offered real help, just criticism. Fast forward to close to 10 years later, still suffering, still suicidal, still panicking, yet I had a boyfriend who knew more about mental health than me, and tried to help. Even to the point it was hurting his own mental health... He convinced me to get help when it got to the point he didn't want me cooking dinner when he wasn't home, because he didn't trust me with the knives and was scared he'd come home from work to find me with my wrists cut. So I saw a therapist, then a psychiatrist who diagnosed me with Sever Major Depressive Disorder and General Anxiety. I was put on medication and life got a bit more manageable. For once, I felt a little bit more normal; I still had my lows, but fuck if life wasn't better.
By Kei Voorhees8 years ago in Psyche
Joy? Is That You?
Everyone used to tell me that I could be happy again. It felt like they could never understand what I was going through so wouldn’t really know. It felt like they were too delusional and if they felt even a minute level of what I did each day, they wouldn’t say so. The counselor, the psychiatrist, the doctors, friends, and family would all say the same thing. Me, I kept denying them over and over again. Yet, it creeped up on me and took me by surprise. Like a roaring wind that grows slowly, and then maddeningly. I felt it in my chest and it was a stranger to me. “What is this feeling?” startled, I asked myself. It took me a while to realize that I was happy. “Happiness! Could it be?” In that moment, I could breathe so effortlessly I wondered how. The weight that was so familiar to my shoulders seemed to have not been there. I felt almost light, like one does when you step into a pool and all of a sudden you’re lightweight. My second thought was that I never wanted this moment to pass. “This too shall pass.” “This too shall pass.” “This too shall pass.” So many times I’d heard myself repeat that back to myself in desperate attempts to muster strength; through the panic attacks, the deep depression, the hopelessness. I never believed those words but I thought it best to lie to myself in the moment. Now though, I hoped with all my existence that it didn’t. Like a lover embraces his beloved after a long separation, I held onto the feeling with the strength of my mind.
By Ayesha Javed8 years ago in Psyche
