Tag Archives: The Black Dog

But You Don’t Look Depressed: Thoughts On Living With High Functioning Depression

When you picture someone living with depression, the image that is conjured up is someone sleeping or staring mindlessly at the television all day. They don’t work, they don’t go school, they just do nothing all day.

While that is the experience of someone else living with depression, that is not my experience. From the outside, I don’t look or sound like I have depression. I look like and live like any functioning adult. I have a steady job and a steady income; my social calendar on the weekends is often full. But the fact is that the black dog, as Winston Churchill spoke of so tellingly, is an unwanted fixture in my life.

I was diagnosed with dysthymia when I was in my late 20’s. I saw my first therapist when I was about 12. Since then, I’ve had about a half a dozen therapists (my present therapist included) and I’m taking an anti-depressant to help to manage my depression.

The black dog is forever with me. When I’ve had a good day, it reminds me of my shortcomings, both perceived and real. When I’ve had a bad day, it is like a perpetual rain cloud that continually hangs over my head. It exhausts me to no end, if my depression had its way, I would be sleeping most of the day. It says that I am not good enough, that my life is not worth living. Some days it feels like I am wearing a mask to hide my true feelings.

What they don’t see is the constant barrage of negative thoughts that are always with me. They don’t see the energy it takes to get up in the morning to get to work on time. They don’t see the bags under my eyes and feel the overwhelming exhaustion that I feel daily. They don’t hear the voices in my head telling me to kill myself. They don’t see the unshed tears that I sometimes have to fight tooth and nail to keep from spilling down my cheeks.

I’ve been through a lot in my nearly 37 years, I have much to be proud of. But at the same time, the depression tells me that it is not enough and will never be enough.

 

 

 

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under History, Mental Health, Thoughts On....

RIP Anthony Bourdain

The black dog, as Winston Churchill put it, has struck again.

On Wednesday, the dog claimed the life of designer Kate Spade. This morning, the life the dog took was that of chef, author and television personality Anthony Bourdain. He was 61.

He was found in his hotel room in France where he was filming a future episode for his CNN series, Anthony Bourdain Parts Unknown.

Depression and mental illness is not a joke. At best, the person suffering lives as best they can. At worst, they take their own life, causing their loved ones to ask questions that can never be answered.

My heart breaks for those who knew him on a personal level, especially his young daughter and his girlfriend, Asia Argento. Ms. Argento is one of the woman who accused Harvey Weinstein of sexual harassment and assault.

I know what it is like to live with the black dog.  It sits on my lap all day, every day. If your reading this post and you also have the black dog sitting on your lap, please get help. If not for your sake, but for the ones you love.

Leave a comment

Filed under Books, Mental Health, Television