I promise I won’t be depressed.
“I promise I won’t be depressed.” I hate that I say that to people. I feel like I live in a constant state of angst.
Why doesn’t this person answer my calls or texts?
Why don’t we talk as frequently as we used to?
Do they still like me?
These questions cycle through my brain until I hit the ultimate question that hits like a knife through my chest: “What’s wrong with me? Why doesn’t anyone love me?”
I spend so much time worried about what other people think of me or if they think of me at all. I exert so much energy putting on a smile to hide the heartache I feel. I waste so much time and energy worrying if my depression is too much for the people around me.
The worst part is that I know needing help doesn’t make you a burden, yet I feel like I’ve burdened people by showing them my depression. I know it’s ok not to be ok, yet I dislike myself more and more every time the depressive episodes start again. I know I am not alone, yet I cry in the middle of the night convinced that I have no one to call.
I love talking about my mental health and being so open, yet I constantly convince myself that everyone despises me for it. What’s wrong with me? There’s that question again. Why do I blame myself and accuse myself of being wrong? Why do I have so much fear that people will not love me anymore if they see what’s truly behind the smile?
My mind internalizes everything. I wish a change in communication frequency or content did not leave me feeling worthless, yet I spend so many nights tossing and turning wondering if they do not love me anymore. I wish my mind could not convince me that because someone saw me so low, they could not possibly want to be near me again. I wish my mind did not make me feel so alone and afraid of confessing to the people in my life that I am not ok. I wish no one ever saw me in tears so my mind could not convince me that my depression is the reason people do not reach out anymore.
I caught myself multiple times this week promising that I would not be depressed if someone spent time with me. Why? All these years into my mental health journey, post-psych ward hospitalization, and becoming a public speaker talking about the worst moments of my life, I still have a fear that people will not love me if I am depressed.
The worst part is that I know it has nothing to do with other people and everything to do with me. I am projecting my insecurity about my depression onto other people. I am disappointed in myself every time an episode arises, and the world feels out of my control. I am frustrated with myself for still experiencing periods when I do not want to be alive anymore. I am angry with myself for not being healed from something that I live with and is part of me. I live with bipolar 2 disorder, which means even with medication, therapy, and every coping skill, I still may experience highs and lows throughout my life. I can continue to develop and refine tools to manage the episodes better and maintain a balance; there is hope. It does not mean that something is inherently wrong with me.
It’s part of what makes me who I am – a person who often feels broken yet wants to share those cracks and imperfections as I work to put the pieces back together; a person who wants to remove the stigma and normalize these struggles and insecurities; a person who wants to find moments of hope and spread them to others. And underneath all of that, I am someone who just wants to feel seen.
Tears are streaming down my face as I uncover the truth of what I am experiencing: I fear that if people see me in my most vulnerable moments, they will only see me through the distorted lens that I view myself from instead of through the rose-colored glasses that they once had on.
My schedule has been hectic lately—between school, the nonprofit, traveling twice a week, and my home responsibilities, I have not had as much time to connect with my friends. My friends also have hectic schedules—being in your mid-20s is a very overwhelming time trying to balance all of life at once when you already feel like you are drowning. I have to keep reminding myself of this. If we do not talk all day every day, it’s not because I get depressed, it’s because we are busy and that is ok. If we do not see each other for a month or so, it’s not because I get depressed, it's because our schedules have not aligned and that is ok. My brain needs constant reassurance because otherwise, I internalize all of it.
My depression does not make people hate me.
People love all of me, even when I am crying and feeling hopeless.
It’s ok if the nature of relationships changes. It’s not my fault. I am not a problem.
I am worthy, even when I struggle to believe it.
These are the affirmations I am going to tell myself as I work to retrain my brain to stop villainizing itself to me and others.
I am not wicked and vile for struggling with my mental health or for reaching out for help. My depression and my struggles are not an imposition—not to the people who matter.
