I keep waiting to get better, and even when I feel at my greatest, I still carry the weight of my condition.
This month marks my one-year anniversary of my diagnosis with severe depression. I have always struggled with low mood. Even when reading snippets from my diary as a little girl I can see the shadow of my condition wearing on my young mind. To be precise, I feel the worst as the seasons move towards Winter, so my chronic condition is labelled as major depressive disorder with a nice splash of seasonal affective disorder (S.A.D.). An unsurprisingly common condition in Canada. About 2 to 6% of Canadians will experience S.A.D. in their lifetime. Another 15% experience a milder form of S.A.D. Women are up to eight times as likely as men to report having S.A.D. People in northern countries are more likely to experience S.A.D. than those who live closer to the equator because the days get shorter the further north you go. (https://mooddisorders.ca/faq/seasonal-affective-disorder-sad#:~:text=Aff…(S.A.D.)-,How%20prevalent%20is%20Seasonal%20Affective%20Disorder%3F,in%20their%20lifetime.) This month has always been the hardest for me. I curse daylight savings, as it turns into coping with hibernation.
Last year, I had finally recognized a pattern in my behavior which pointed towards depression and sought out help from my doctor. Admitting that something was wrong, even though I had always known deep down, was very difficult. They are not joking when they say the greatest hurdle in the journey towards treatment is first accepting that there is a problem. I remember feeling broken, leaving my doctors stuffy office, wondering what everyone would think. The fear of judgement and stigma is one many experiences when dealing with mental health. My advice is to be honest with the people who love you, it is an honor when another person trusts you enough to be honest with you about themselves. Even when people do ostracize you, which happened to me, it shows their lack of self-development and openness with their own state. I chose to give up on the people who did not accept me, and in honesty it made my life quite a bit easier. Overall, my diagnosis gave me hope, it felt as though someone finally understood, and perhaps I was not lying to myself about all of the lows I had felt, and most importantly I felt relief that I did not have to suffer in silence trapped in my own mind with my distorted ego.
Struggling with difficult roommates last year only inflamed my condition. I spent my days feeling as if I lived in Jell-O, feeling empty, slow, and trapped. Even at my best, which thankfully I can say I have achieved after much therapy, moving to a new house, getting out of a string of mediocre relationships, and finally loving myself, I still feel like this. It feels like depression is always a constant, it lingers in the corners of my good days, and sits upon my shoulders unmoving on my worst days. I hope one day I can live without the shadow of depression on my life, but at least I can manage it a bit better, and have developed a tool-kit of techniques to manage my symptoms when life feels impossible.
One years’ worth of empty antidepressant bottles, tears, goodbyes and hellos, and I am still here. There were times that made it feel like I would never be able to move forward, but time has a funny way of ticking on, no matter how you feel. Hopelessness melted and changed in the summer heat to become love and acceptance.
It has all been a lot to cope with. Chronic illness and COVID-19 seem to dictate all my actions these days. I got dumped by the first person I ever really loved the day lockdown was called in Ontario, unsurprisingly it was quite the isolating break up. It was hard to move on because I immediately moved home with my parents and grandmother. To be honest, though it was difficult, I was not able to do anything unhelpful for myself. I did not abuse substances or seek attention from strangers to distract my broken heart like I might have if I had stayed at school. Instead I was forced to take a long hard look at the girl I was at that point, a broken shell of a person for many reasons, a person who felt totally lost and alone in the world around her. I realized that the benefit of everything crumbling to rock bottom was that you could rebuild yourself on a more solid foundation. I realized I am a bit of a fixer-upper, but it was a challenge I was up for. So, I spent many hours in therapy, many hours comforting myself and establishing good self-care. And, slowly but surely, my mental hygiene improved.
I remember one day in April, I was sitting on a park bench smoking a cigar watching the water lapping on the shores of lake Ontario, trying to be the mysterious woman of my imaginings, and this old Greek man came and sat with me, scolded me for smoking and because we were both lonely, we poured our own stories out to each other, and I realized it’s the little moments such as that that mean the most to me.
It has helped me realize that though life is quite messy, and people are asses, that there is beauty in every moment. I have learned to savor the small things and find wonder in the mundane experiences. Watching the flickering of a candle, sunlight streaming through windows, the feeling of my feet on the floor when I first wake up, the taste of a good cup of tea, staring at strangers bustle on through life, the laughs you share with the people you love. Life is so special, it slips through my hands like sand, and I find comfort in living in each moment I have, appreciating all the learning there is to be done in life.
This year I have undergone treatment for the first time in my life, which has helped my find a way to control my symptoms, manage and assess my condition and recognize when I might be crossing back into a slump. I am still so new to managing my condition, but I feel as if the woman I was 8 months ago is so far from the woman I have become. I rebuilt myself stronger than I ever have been before, I have learned that there is so much to love about who I am, that I have so many talents I totally underappreciated, and that I have the opportunity to make a positive impact in the world simply by being my true self.
It is difficult to cope with one’s mental health, even in a society as open as ours. I have lost people in my life, who found my healing process too strenuous for them. In honesty, it is probably better we parted ways. All the lessons I have learned, the nurturing I have offered myself, and the forgiveness I have found has brought me peace. Even though some days I wake up and feel the weight on my shoulders is particularly heavy that day I know I will be okay because I have myself, and I will never give up on her.
Thus, I encourage you to appreciate the messy beauty of owning your life. If you are struggling with your mental health I encourage you to seek out help. Visit your doctor, and if you are in crisis reach out to your local emergency department.