Everyday NhanSense: Each day, I will blog about something that comes to mind. My goal is to practice writing about my hobbies, my interests, my opinions and so forth.
Day 25’s Topic: Fighting the good fight.
It’s no surprise I often use the “Depression” tag a lot for my blog posts. Modern society has such a stigma over this specific “D” word that a lot of people brush it aside, or worse, try to hide it.
“It’s all in your head!”
“Stop being sad!”
“You’ll get over it. It’s just a phase!”
And yet, for some people, depression never goes away. And you know what?
I have depression.
There. Was that so difficult? No, not really. I have actually gotten used to feeling like this in some unpleasant degree. But in all actuality, I have had depression long before this blog had even one letter typed out. Way long before that, in fact.
I can say now with 100 percent certainty that I was a depressed person in a variety of ways. It all started when I was a college student. Back in school, I had to work constantly to make sure I could pay tuition, pay for food, pay for every random expense to keep my student loans down, but it came at the price of my happiness and overall college enrichment.
I was always so out of it in the classroom because I was tired all of the time. There were so many days I barely could get through class running on fumes, just always sitting in the back of the class barely able to keep my eyes awake.
I had many countless nights where I would stay up to blast out a halfhearted essay or two, on top of trying to cram useless information into my noggin that I would forget the moment the exam was finished.
Ultimately, for my introverted personality, this meant I would forego a lot of things like social gatherings or just being able to relax like a young adult who had a lot on his plate. Well, it was a lot for me to handle anyway. I managed to squeeze some time for myself here and there, but my life was far from well-rounded.
Looking back at it, I should have seen the writing on the wall a lot sooner. I found myself talking about how I was “possibly” depressed to a career counselor of mine on multiple visits, where I danced around the notion that I may or may not have needed professional help.
Perhaps had I done something sooner, maybe I could have nipped the problem in the bud before all of the worst effects blossomed out of control just a few months after college graduation.
Despite knowing I have depression, I purposefully choose not to take medication for it. I don’t want to live in a day-to-day existence of clouding up my mind of whether I am feeling genuinely happy or it’s me getting goofy off the pills sifting through my system.
No way. Not for me.
To fight the good fight every single day, every single darn day, entails trying to set aside all the stupid stuff that gets to me and finding the strength to keep going. Believe me. I have my share of really rough moments where I am on the cusp of an emotional breakdown, just one step from shutting down mentally and emotionally.
And yet, I persevere. I try to salvage some sense of dignity to hang on for dear life.
So the next time sometime tells you that depression isn’t real and it isn’t a real disease, affliction or whatever you want to call it – tell them they’re wrong. They are so wrong in so many ways that they just have no clue.
Having the “D” word literally screws up your brain chemistry. It’s messing with your mind, but always remember that more people suffer from depression than a lot of people are willing to admit openly.
But instead of trying to wallow in self-pity like I have done before in the past, I choose to search for my own panacea for this horrible poison I have had to endure for these various years.
Keep fighting the good fight.
“Get good. Be better.” – Nhan Fiction