First off, thank you so much for trusting this space here. I hear you and it sounds that you’ve met your share of people who didn’t listen, and even who judged you, which doesn’t make it easy to be vulnerable when it’s needed. But you did. You’ve shared this raw expression of your heart, and I want you to know that absolutely no one is going to judge you here. Actually, many people in this community can relate to how you feel, despite having different stories and journeys than yours.
I can say that I relate to how you feel. To be honest, it’s been a couple of years that I’ve been learning to manage these thoughts in a way that give space to hope as well, but for sure it didn’t happen in just a day. Like you, I’ve been depressed for a very long time (since I was a kid, and I’m 28 now). When I look at my life, I see a lot of pain, a lot of hurt, and it feels like all the abuse and violence I’ve endured constantly mark different crossroads in my life. It’s really, really hard to feel like our own story is conditioned by pain. That the paths we follow are, directly or even just indirectly, the consequence of the pain that we feel internally, and the one that was inflicted on us. In the long run, depression has even this way to make it worse by making us used to the pain as if it was part of ourselves, part of our personality, like a deep component of who we are.
I hear you. I feel for you. And I still hope that you can find some comfort in knowing that you are not alone. It’s unfair that so many of us have to survive for so long instead of truly living, as if we had to earn our right to exist. But still through our pain and singular experiences, we can learn to thrive together. I may be wrong, but it seems to me that you are not here by mistake. You didn’t decide to create an account for a post right here just because “why not”. It can be hard to be honest with ourselves when we are hurting and want to give up, but I believe there is a part of yourself that actually doesn’t want to give up, and I think this part is worth acknowledging and to be given a chance. I know it’s scary.
I know it feels safer to shout out a big: screw it! Your pain is real, valid, and has to be heard. But I also want to encourage this stubborn part of your heart that craves for something different, to exist as much as the one that is disappointed by life itself right now. You are not defeated. You are hurting. But in this pain, a lot of strength can be gathered, and it can be done in a different way than how it was before. You didn’t have a good experience with going inpatient? Then let’s make sure that you wouldn’t have to experience that again, friend. You feel like the help you’ve received wasn’t effective so far? Then let’s reflect on what wasn’t working. Let’s slow down and think about different options. Medications can be a crutch for example, but it’s true that 1/ we need time to find the right one sometimes and 2/ the hard work still has to be done within ourselves, and oftentimes with the help of a professional.
My point is: you are not beyond help. You are not beyond hope. You are navigating some very deep and painful thoughts and emotions, but resilience and thriving are still within your reach. Being in the right environment, using the right tools, finding the right people to support you, is part of this healing journey. Depression sucks. It’s one of the heaviest struggles in my life and so many days I keep wondering what’s the point. These moments of wonder don’t disappear easily. But we can learn to integrate what’s worth fighting for. All the reminders of what is good, what is worth to keep pushing on in this life, in this world.
I’m personally still not fighting for myself, and God knows this space between my two ears is not a friendly place to myself. But I’ve learned to turn this dark energy into a fuel for love. I still don’t know the recipe that makes someone love themselves, but I want to keep on fighting or the love I can give to others, for the support I can provide both personally and professionally, for the positive mark I can try to leave in this messy, ugly world. I want to fight for being an agent of what I’m unable to give to myself fully. I want to give others what I didn’t have when I needed to: an ear to listen, a mind to understand, a heart to love. These are worth fighting for, my friend.
There is an injustice happening every time someone struggles with depression in such a deep way. And there is injustice everytime we allow it to take the best of ourselves. I see, through your words and through your pain, that you feel this injustice very deeply. Which is why I want to invite this more rebel part of your heart to stand up for itself, to keep fighting against this injustice, to do what is right, and somehow in your heart you know that disappearing is not part of it. I’m standing right next to you on this battle that shouldn’t be one. Somehow we didn’t choose to deal with this life as it is now, but we still have the power to learn to compose with it, maybe in a way that would be even more loving and impactful than someone who wouldn’t have been in this same, deep spot. Through your pain can radiate a very radical love, acceptance and care, for others but also for yourself. I believe in you and your capacity not to give up on yourself, to keep on fighting for what is right, including for yourself.
I don’t want to be a statistic. I don’t want you to be one either. I want to listen to you. I want to hear what you have to say. I want to hear your story and what makes you, you. There’s no one to replace this soul, spirit and heart of yours. And I know it’s selfish of me to express my wish after reading your post. Consider this as just a very humble cry from the heart of a stranger, a call from someone who cares, from someone who understands how it feels to be determined to end it all, how it feels to be in this deep moment of loneliness and disconnection from the rest of the world.
You’re not too far gone though. Nothing is written already. We are holding your hand, willing to support you, to encourage you, and I will keep believing in you and your capacity to make the right decision. You belong, even if this world has failed you until now. Not everyone is going to keep walking without noticing you or your pain. I see you. You’re not alone. And I truly, entirely, believe in you and in your capacity to decide what would be loving and healthy.
Hold Fast, friend. There’s so much beauty within you that still needs to unfold.