Depression: Don’t Cry At My Party

You are attending a party and you feel like crap. Imagine planning your escape the moment you enter the room?

Envision feeling isolated when you are surrounded by lots of people; with friends, celebrating a birthday party at somebody’s house. You experience emptiness. Chatter, laughter, and enjoyment are overwhelming, yet you are numb.  You knew this wasn’t a good idea.

Depression is lonely. Curled up in a ball–lonely.

This happened to me many years ago. I felt obligated to attend a birthday party, and although I resisted, I soon surrendered since it was for a beloved friend, and I was absent from all other celebrations throughout the past year.

Seated in a Lazy-Boy for part of the evening, I held firmly onto a diet Coke and observed the party from afar. I thought it polite to rise and finally mingle, express a smile, pretend to enjoy the evening, yet the feeling of hollowness was debilitating. Laughter echoed.

For most of the year, I was hospitalized many times for depression.  Depression was black and muddy; most times, feeling like a zombie and imagined they dumped me into a black hole and left for dead. A life filled with doctors, nurses, medications, lonesome times, seated cross-legged in my hospital room corner daily, attempting to make sense out of anything. I understood there was light up at the top of a hole, yet I was forever waiting to witness any.

I exchanged small talk with some people, yet avoided others as much as possible. Many people at this gathering did not know me, which was a significant relief. I escaped having to share stories of my unpleasant life with my mind drifting throughout any minimal conversations.

I was becoming exhausted, dragged down by feelings of nothingness and hopelessness. Why was everything so dark and gloomy?  Escaping from this gathering was my only option.

Apologizing to my friend for my lifeless presence, she looked at me with sadness and hugged me. Strangely, I was lonely yet preferred to be alone, which was bewildering to even me.

“Depression, best known of all the mental illnesses, is difficult to endure and treat. It renders one feeling hopeless and helpless. Experiencing a wintry solitude, where one is completely immobilized, void of any light of optimism. It creates emotional and financial fallout, coupled with a horrible emptiness and black death-like existence. Life tastes sour,”.   —– Deb

It took over ten years to recover from major depression, including additional hospitalizations, countless ECT’s, and a myriad of medications.  Finally, a different psychiatrist was in the wings, placing me on the appropriate meds, and I returned to the workforce a few years later. Enduring six years with this company, I succumbed to depression once again, forced to go on disability, and currently unemployed. Although I’m seldom in that black hole now, I can continue with my passions, which are writing, blogging, and art.

The loneliness and isolation, though, I feel it but I will never forget nor desire to experience that void sense again.

Written and copyrighted by Deb (cherished79.com) April 2020.