Mostly I live in a world that is unbelievable. I have these friends that are kind and smart and beautiful beyond measure. I am loved and liked. People care about me. And sometimes I get sad.
It's hard to describe this intermittent sadness and even harder to say, "I suffer from depression." When you tell people you feel sad they often come at you with phrases like, "It will all be okay" "Don't be sad" "Think of all you have to be happy about" "This will pass". And they mean well because they love you and they don't want you to feel this way.
But sometimes that sadness sits with you. You think of happy things. You cry. And if you are lucky you know eventually it will go away. Today though, it just rests in your heart. Right now it is resting in mine.
I have made the commitment to live my life with people. To share my thoughts, my stories, my emotions with others. Though I know it's a choice, it doesn't always feel great. It seems the older I get the riskier it gets. As I sit here thinking about sharing my story I am going through a list of people who could be reading this. And as much as I want to normalize mental health it is scary to say out loud, that sometimes my emotions are bigger than I can manage.
I am nervous about putting these words on this page, It's easy for me to diminish my emotion by comparing it the tragedy and struggle of others. I have so many privileges and my sadness does not seem equitable to the amount of privilege I am granted. Earlier this month I heard a lecture from the social justice warrior Bryan Stevenson who said:
“Sometimes we’re fractured by the choices we make; sometimes we’re shattered by things we would never have chosen. But our brokenness is also the source of our common humanity, the basis for our shared search for comfort, meaning, and healing. Our shared vulnerability and imperfection nurtures and sustains our capacity for compassion.”
I want to sustain my capacity for compassion. So tonight, a random Saturday in July, I share with you that sometimes I get sad. Sometimes I get so sad that my belly hurts and tears fall from my eyes and I can not move off the couch to do the dishes. Sometimes I think about how my life would be different if when I was 4 years old someone didn't hurt me. Sometimes I fall into the arms of my significant other and let him hold me and remind me to breath until I can see clearly again.
I want to be strong, brave, and full of compassion. I want to see people, hear their stories, and be part of the system that makes change. I want this overwhelming sadness to turn into relentless energy that allows me to be part of the solution. I suffer from depression.
"our brokenness is also the source of our common humanity, the basis for our shared search for comfort, meaning, and healing."