Blogging, Journaling

Living 6 Feet Below: Depression

I don’t feel like I’m dying–I feel like I’m already dead, buried, six feet below the surface. This feeling is what caused me to make this blog in the first place. I talk about it a little more in my About Me.

That far down, it’s hard to breathe, harder to scream, and impossible to reach out. I’m trapped in this box, this glass casket while everyone walks on top of me, steps over me, completely unaware that I’m down here, screaming for someone just to hear me. It’s a cold feeling, leaving me numb. I’m paralyzed, detached from the world and detached from myself.

“Where are my feelings? I no longer feel things I know I should.”
-NF, Paralyzed

Emotional Detachment:

Emotional detachment can mean two different things. In the first meaning, it refers to an inability to connect with others on an emotional level, as well as a means of coping with anxiety by avoiding certain situations that trigger it; it is often described as “emotional numbing” or dissociation.
https://www.sciencedaily.com/terms/emotional_detachment.htm

In my early high school years, I experienced some stuff that changed me–made me prone to panic attacks, most of which were seemingly random. By 19, it’d appeared as though I’d taken the correct steps (therapy, medication) to successfully combat my anxiety and depression–but it’d left something behind. It left something behind in a sense that it’d left nothing. Less than. If anything, it took.

What we feel changes our brain chemistry. When we feel too much, it’s like our brains go into defensive mode. Walls up and lights off. Better to feel nothing than too much. Better to keep them all out than risk letting the wrong in.

But in that defensive mode, our brains don’t just block out the bad feelings–the good ones are left out as well.

“Where is the real me? I’m lost and it kills me inside.”
-NF, Paralyzed

I’m not sure what happened, but to put it blatantly, I’m not who I used to be. At all. I know it and so does everyone close to me. Now I’m a stranger everyone, including myself. The real me is down there in that glass casket. Who I am now feels like an empty shell wearing a cracked mask of who I used to be, hoping no one will notice the obvious.

 

A Raft

I wish I could throw out a raft for this one, but honestly, I’m still trying to find one myself.

Find your passion.
I’m not one of those cheesy, superstitious-type-of-characters, but I do believe there is a place for everyone in this world. If not, then make one. Do something different. Best way to do that is to be yourself. Our personalities are like fingerprints–no two are the same. Be what you want to see in the world.

Vent.
Keep everything bottled up and your bound to explode at some point. It helps to vent. Let it out. In regards to how…everyone’s different. Some people sweat it out in the gym, some prefer a pad and pen. Regardless, venting helps more if you can do it and also be productive. In my opinion, feelings are expressed best when it’s through creativity: writing, drawing, photography. Practice an old skill or pickup a new one.

Fake it.
Fake it, and maybe one day it’ll actually be there. Smile, walk with your head high, say “Hello”, even though you don’t want to. Make yourself believe that the feelings are there.

Empathy.
Try to imagine what those closest to you would feel if you did what you’re thinking about.

Exercise.
It’s hard to get there, but once you do it’s pretty easy. Use the gym to get out your frustrations if necessary. You also need sunlight. It helps make something in your brain that keeps you upbeat or something–look it up.

Look in the right places.
Everyone knows the saying, “And if thou gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will also gaze into thee.” If not, then you do now.
There’s a lot of dark in this world. Stare at it and it’ll be all you see. There’s a lot of dark, but there’s also a lot of light. Be careful where you choose to look.

Relationships.
They’re hard. Especially when your mind does what it does best by trying to tear you from everything that holds even the slightest potential for happiness. Believe me–I know. If you ever need anyone to talk to, please don’t hesitate to reach out to me.
misterhushhush@gmail.com
I check my email nightly.

I’m sorry guys. If you have any suggestions, please leave a comment. Not gonna lie, I could use some help.

 

Thanks for reading.

Sincerely,

 

MisterHush

 

P.S. Rest in peace Chester Bennington. Been a huge Linkin Park fan since I was 11. There are just no words. Hope you’ve found peace.

 

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4 thoughts on “Living 6 Feet Below: Depression”

  1. I love that you brought your post around to what you can do. As someone who was EXTREMELY shy in my youth; I know that “fake it” very well. I used to tell myself ” make yourself do this”. Glad to know you here. 😊

    Like

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