Living with an Invisible Illness

            Depression is an invisible illness.  So often, others cannot see the pain and the struggle the sufferer goes through.  There are no physical markers like a cast or cane.  There is no pale or jaundiced skin.  Often, it is hidden behind the façade of a smile.  It is not unusual for a person with depression to look “normal”, to look as if they are functioning just fine.  The truth of the illness is hidden.  It’s pain unknown to others because it is within the mind.  No one sees the debilitating thoughts.  No one sees the weight that drags us down.  The darkness is ours alone.  

            On the outside people with depression can look ordinary.  While inside they are ravaged by an illness that has no mercy.  Often, we can go about our daily activities without anyone knowing.  We lie and say we are tired or that we just need some rest.  The reality is that depression is tearing us apart.  We are living behind a façade.  Alone, the illness hurts, makes us want to scream out in pain.  

            We hide because others don’t understand.  They tell us to smile, tell us to cheer up.  Don’t they know we would if we could?  Others do not believe our illness is real.  They believe that we just need to think positive. Ha!! Would they tell some with high blood pressure to think their pressure was lower?  Would they tell someone with cancer to just think positive? Why then do those of us with depression hear such platitudes from others? 

            Depression is an illness.  Those of us who live with it know its reality.  We cannot just think ourselves well.  Telling us to, only makes the pain worse.  People mean well.  They want us to be happy, but depression is more than being unhappy.  It is an all-consuming condition.  It affects our mood, our thoughts, our physical health.  Depression requires treatment, not just positive words.  One glance at the statistics shows that depression can cause death.  It is not an illness that will get better on its own.  People need to understand the importance of treatment.  People need to understand the severity of the illness.  Stop saying, “Smile, you have so much to be happy about.” Instead, ask us what we need.  Listen to us, really hear what we are saying.  Encourage us to seek treatment.  Don’t make jokes about therapy.  It is a valuable part of healing for us.  Allow us to take days off for our mental health just as we would If we had the flu or a migraine.  

            Depression does not have to be an invisible illness.  With understanding and awareness, we can change things.  We can help people who suffer from depression.  We can let them know their illness is real and that we want them to heal. 

            I would like to share a poem with you that attempts to describe living with this invisible illness:

 

An Invisible Illness

 

I see it in the eyes of others.

They wonder how I can have an illness

When I seem to function so well. 

My illness is invisible at times,

But it is always there.

Plaguing my mind;

Hindering my life.

I hold so much pain inside;

Pretend the physical symptoms are not real.

Mental illness is often silent on the outside.

Others do not understand what I go through each day.

They assume I am okay.

Sometimes I even tell them I am.

It is my attempt to normalize how I feel,

But it is a lie.

Mental illness hurts.

Invisible at first glance.

Devasting when truly seen.

If others could see the torment

Maybe they would understand and

Life might be a little easier for me.

The pain of an invisible illness is hard to explain.

So, I do my best to hide it. 

When really, I should explain to anyone who will listen.

Let others know what it is like.

Raise awareness

And allow myself a chance to heal.

Check back Monday, July 3 for the next post: "Depression: What I Know and What I Don't Know".

Depression is a Thief

             In the years I have suffered from depression I have missed out on a lot.  Depression has stolen so much.  It takes little things.  It takes big things.  There is no discretion in its thievery.  

            It started by stealing the ability to be happy, to enjoy my youth.  That has progressed throughout my life.  It is still taking that ability away from me, although I am better at fighting back at times. 

Depression has stolen life experiences away from me.  I’ve never had a real relationship.  I never considered getting married.  Depression made me believe that it was unfair to share my life with someone. Who would want to be a part of the darkness? Who would want to be with someone whose life is shrouded by depression?  This illness has made me believe that I am meant to be alone.  Depression has forced me to be alone.

When I see all the wonderful things my niece and nephew are doing, I am reminded that being a parent was stolen from me.  I never wanted to bring children into the darkness.  I realize that was a choice, but it was a choice depression forced me into making.  Depression stole the joy of having a family from me.  Now, I can only look on from afar and see what I missed out on.  

Depression has stolen memories from me.  I don’t remember much from before depression reared its ugly head.  There are little bits here and there, but I struggle to remember the time before the depression.  I have difficulty remembering events and people in my life.  I can’t remember the little things.  I can’t remember the good times.  I remember the pain.  I remember wanting to end my life, planning it.  I know there were activities I was involved in, but so much is a blur.  The darkness of depression clouds my memory.

Today, in middle age, I wonder how much of my memory problems are a result of the depression and how much are age.  My gut tells me it is the depression.  It has been stealing from me my whole life. 

I miss out on a lot because depression makes me feel like crap.  It makes me hide beneath the blankets on my bed instead of going out with friends.  Depression makes me leave family events early.  It leaves me disconnected from others.  

I know I am not alone in this.  I am not the only victim of depression’s thievery.  I am sure many of you reading this can relate.  We have similar stories.  Different things have been stolen from each of us, but we are victims of depression.  I share my experience so that others know they are not alone.  I share so that I know I am not alone. 

I know I can never get back what depression has stolen. Those times, those memories, those events, those relationships.  They are all gone.  Taken away by a cruel illness.  I grieve what I have lost.  It makes the depression worse to know how much I have missed out on. I must move forward.  I hope that as I heal, depression’s thievery will have less of an impact on me.  That is how I fight back.  I tell myself that I still have life left to live, memories left to make, relationships to enjoy.  Sometimes I believe these words.  Other times it is difficult. Depression tells me I am foolish for having hope.  It is a battle I will always fight.  Depression is a thief.  Its victims are many.  Depression is ruthless.  

Despite all depression has stolen from me, I am still alive.  I still have a chance to heal.  If depression has stolen from you, know that you are not alone.  We can fight together.  When we share our stories, we take away some of depression’s power.  Comment below if you have been a victim of depression’s thievery.  Let others know they are not alone.  

 

Next Post: Thursday, June 29^th

 

What Is Depression?

        Before we can undertake a journey into the world of depression, we must understand what depression is and what it isn’t.  There is a psychiatric definition.  Let’s start there and then get into the reality that those of us who live with depression understand. 

       The DSM- 5 defines depression as “Feelings of worthlessness or excessive or inappropriate guilt nearly every day. Diminished ability to think or concentrate, or indecisiveness, nearly every day. Recurrent thoughts of death, recurrent suicidal ideation without a specific plan, or a suicide attempt or a specific plan for committing suicide”. (August 26, 2022).  

            As a person living with depression, I would agree that all of that is true. Yet depression is so much more.  I usually describe depression as darkness.  It is like being trapped without light.  There is a weight bearing down upon me.  My thoughts are consumed by negativity.  Thoughts of dying overtake me.  I feel worthless.  Depression makes me feel like life is not worth living. I feel alone even in crowded places.  

            Like many people with depression, I have heard the well-meaning, but painful comment, “Just smile.”  Or even better, “You have so much to be happy about.”  When you are shrouded in depression happiness doesn’t exist.  On an intellectual level, I can understand that certain aspects of my life should make me happy.  I can understand that life is worth living.  Yet, the depression argues with that knowledge.  Depression’s voice is much louder than my surroundings.  I feel the darkness.  Depression’s words become my reality.  The happiness becomes unreal.  All I feel is the weight of depression.  

            I have lived with depression most of my life.  We are intimate companions on life’s journey.  I know depression is real.  Forced smiles may mask the depression at times, but they cannot make it go away. Depression is always there.  This is not to say that healing is not a possibility.  There are amazing practitioners out there making great strides in the treatment of depression.  I have been helped by some of them.  So, I know I can heal. 

            Depression isn’t the occasional blues.  It isn’t being sad over a loss.  Depression is all-encompassing and long-term.  It is an illness.  As a mental illness, depression requires health care.  Its impact is not just mental.  There are physical aspects. Weight loss, weight gain, physical pain, lethargy, sleeplessness, concentration difficulties, memory issues.  Depression needs to be addressed as a health issue.  More about that in later posts.

            Depression is a lifelong illness.  It can vary in intensity at times, but its darkness is all-encompassing.  We cannot take depression lightly.  It is an illness that can end in death.  Depression steals hope away from its sufferers.  I know.  I’ve been left hopeless. I’ve been on that edge where life didn’t seem worth living.  Still, I fight.  Determined not to let depression win.  The battle is a huge undertaking.  It is a battle that cannot be fought alone.  Depression is real.  Depression is painful.  

Where did Bent, Not Broken Come From?

        The title of this blog came from a poem I recently wrote.  Writing poetry is a healing tool for me.  I have been writing poetry since I was a teenager. I don’t know what made me pick up a pen and start writing poetry, but I have been writing poetry to cope with my depression for over 35 years.  It is healing for me.  Writing allows the thoughts depression creates to leave my mind and flow onto paper.  Once the thoughts are on paper, I can process them in a healthier way.  A lot of my poetry is very dark.  It is full of the pain depression causes.  I believe I must write it.  Some may view it as a negative, but for me it is healing.  

I have also found the light in my poetry.  At times I can write about how I am healing.  I view depression and healing as darkness and light.  The light is the healing.  In some of my poetry I can see myself reaching out for that light.  It is often distant, but it is there. 

The poem I am sharing here, demonstrates the intertwining of dark and light.  It is where the title of this blog emerged.  

 

Bent, Not Broken

 

The darkness surrounds me.

I have grown accustomed to its chill.

At times I do not believe I can continue.

Cracks form within me. 

Tears fill my eyes.

Afraid, I lean further into the darkness,

Overwhelmed, ready to give up.

The darkness envelopes me.

Still, I try to focus on the light.

I am reminded I am not alone.

Each time I reach out,

My hand is held, and I am strengthened.

Golden streaks of light fill the cracks created by my bending.

Healing seems possible when I am held.

I bend, but do not break.

More flexible than I realized.

Bent, not broken!

 

 

Depression causes us to bend.  We come close to breaking.  Sadly, many people do break.  With help we don’t have to break.  It is a battle.  It is not easy.  Depression pushes and pushes, causing us to bend.  Depression hurts.  As long as we are fighting, as long as we are reaching out and accepting help, we can keep from breaking.  Being bent is painful, but like the tree on the cover of this blog, it is still beautiful. 

 

Check out my webpage for access to more of my poetry:

 

https://www.ginacapobianco.com

Check back in a couple days for my next post: What Is Depression?

Why a Depression Blog?

     Depression has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember.  It first reared its ugly head when I was in my early teens.  I don’t have many memories from before that time.  The depression has stolen those.  I am now 50 years old.  I have lived my life in the darkness of depression. This darkness has suffocated me at times. Other times I have been able to hide the darkness and function.  At no time have I been truly okay. Depression is always there.  

    I used to believe that I was alone.  Now I know that I am not.  There are so many people suffering from depression, the silent illness that steals our lives.  That is why I am starting this blog.  I need to share my story to give it meaning.  I want others to know that their stories have meaning.  I plan to discuss all aspects of depression in this blog.  For years I have written my way through the darkness.  Much of that writing was just for me.  It was a means of ridding my mind of the darkness.  A few years ago, with the encouragement of my psychologist I shared my writing for the first time.  I have self-published five books (four poetry books and a memoir) since then. These books share what it is like to live with depression.  It is not enough.  I want to reach more people.  I want more people to understand depression.  I want more people to know they are not alone in their struggles with the illness.  That is how this blog was born.  It is my attempt to erase the stigma surrounding depression and give this illness a face. 

            Bent, Not Broken: Living with Depression is not only my story.  I will share facts about depression, lived experience, treatment options, coping strategies, support strategies, and much more.  People will have the opportunity to interact as we grow this community.  As a person living with depression, I am bent.  I have been pushed to the edge and tried to end the suffering.  I have been helped back up by an incredible team.  I have almost broken several times, but I have avoided that final crack.  I am lucky to have a support team that has kept me from breaking.  I understand not everyone has this support.  Thus, Bent, Not Broken: Living with Depression is meant to provide hope.  Depression may bend us, but we don’t have to break. Trees bend in the elements.  So, too, do we. Depression is a darkness that feeds off trying to break us. Together we can prevent each other from breaking.