What depression feels like

For those of you that like to read Dragon Mommy as a beauty blog, I apologise for this personal post.

You know you're a burden to everyone, and you feel shame because you don't seem to be able to change it. You either sleep all the time or can't sleep at all. You either eat all the time or have no appetite. You have to force yourself to shower, or wash your hair, or change your clothes. You know this is not normal, and you can even remember when it wasn't normal for you, but you have no energy to do otherwise. You're tired all the time and you feel totally flat in your emotions. Other people tell you to snap out of it. But that's like telling a person with diabetes to get over it. They would if they could, and so would you. In a heartbeat. 

You can't think of anything that gives you enjoyment anymore, not even the things you used to enjoy. You avoid the phone, answering the door, going out with friends. You sit in a dark house and don't notice until someone asks you why it's so dark in there. You feel more like you're existing than living. You feel totally alone. You wish someone would reach out to you but you'd probably avoid them if they did, because to converse with someone is exhausting to you emotionally. You feel anxiety over things that seem silly to you. So you avoid those things until you've made your world so small that there is room for no one. And even then it never feels safe. 

Your doctor just throws more pills at you and you take them hoping for that magic pill that will help you feel normal again. But they don't. And some days you have such terrible concentration, you forget to take them anyway. You may want to die, or you may not feel suicidal but really wouldn't care if you just died in your sleep. It sounds like a relief. 

You don't leave the house and you are running out of excuses to tell people why you can't. 

Something is off. I just don't know what. If I could fix it I could. 

What doesn't help is judging me, telling me to get over it, telling me how much worse off others are, and how I should count my blessings. I know my blessings. I know people are worse off. What would help me is to say you understand, even when you don't. To offer to take some of the burden off me, just like you would anyone who is sick. To sit with me or be willing to just let me be by myself. To remind me to take my pills or see my doctor, and even drive me there. To just love me, for better, for worse, in sickness and in health. 

To my husband... Deep down the Holli you fell in love with is still there. Shes just got lost a little while. I'm sorry x

(Please note I did not write all of this. The original is from a forum I joined about depression and I have edited it to make it personal to me. I read the original and it gave me a serious lump in my throat. It is perfect symmetry of what I say in my head, and what I wish I could say to my husband.)