Ever since I finally received my official diagnoses for my mental health conditions, telling people "what I have" has been a considerably easier task. If they're kind, which they almost always are, they ask what these words mean and usually I willingly go into detail about the ways in which these conditions affect my day-to-day life. There is one trend, however, I have found more prominent than ever before and a pattern that is becoming a little too unbearable; Nobody knows how the hell to respond. But... they know they can't say nothing.
I suffer from unspecified depression as a result of my Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD) which means, at its core, I worry about absolutely everything. A lot. Like a lot a lot. I often get so trapped in my thought spiral that I leave my body entirely. My worries are completely unprecedented, irrational, and excessive. And when I spend every waking minute of my life obsessing over my worries, it leaves me exhausted, burnt out, and inevitably depressed. On top of everything else, I also struggle with Obsessive Compulsive Personality Disorder, which is really the icing on the cake. This is my situation right now, and quite frankly it is close-to-magical to have a name for it.
I feel so supported and fortunate to have so many people in my life who care about me and I know that some of the things I'm about to say might ring a few bells for you. That's why it's so important to me to remind you that I know that anything you've said or done has been from a place of love, however misguided. If you've ever said any of the following statements to me, know that I took no offence and hold no grudges against you as a result.
I am on a track to healing and always doing everything I can to find balance and manage my symptoms while maintaining my relationships and taking control of my life back.
But... if it's okay with you... here are a few phrases I could probably live without.
"Let me know if there’s anything I can do."
I won’t. One of the most excruciating parts of depression is knowing what a perfectly huge burden I am on my loved ones. I am so painfully aware of how difficult it can be to love me or remain a part of my life. Most of my friends and family have to “take care of” me from time to time and this thought keeps me up at night. So given the choice between agonizing in the dark by myself or asking someone for help, I will choose the former every time. Sometimes I just want people to pretend I don’t have a mental illness, so by reaching out for support I’m just reminding them what a burden I am and (in my mind) pushing them farther away. I will paddle in the raging waters by myself until I pass out or find land. However, my survival instincts are still functioning so if someone were to throw me a life jacket, I wouldn’t hesitate to take it. I’m trying to learn how to ask for it, but for now it is almost impossible for me so if you are able to give it without being asked, or even just text me once in a while to let me know you haven’t given up on me, that’s really all I need.
"I think I have a touch of that."
You don’t. This isn’t the flu, and these aren’t common symptoms of the human condition. When I tell you I have GAD, and you say, “Yes, I worry about a lot of things, too.” then you probably aren’t really listening. My conditions are excessive, spontaneous, and irrational. They are often debilitating and deeply painful and colour every moment of my life and when you suggest that “you have what I have” you are ending the conversation and preventing any possibility of learning more. You are essentially saying, “I already know everything about that.” And so you are not only devaluing my experience, you are also suggesting that it is common and “nothing special.” I by-no-means think I'm special, but I do think my personal experience is my own, and different from anyone else's. So unless you've been diagnosed with the same conditions (and even if you have) you probably don't know exactly what I'm going through. I know you want to relate to me in order to connect with me, and I really do appreciate that, but in the future a better response is to ask specific questions about my experience, listen well, and tell me that it sounds really hard. Some other phrases to choose instead include, "If that's anything like what I've gone through, it must be tough" or "I experience similar things, so I know how important it is to tell you that I'm here for you."
"You’re being a bad friend."
I already know that, and I don’t mean to be. I can see how much my illness and your feeling of helplessness hurts you, and I assure you it hurts me all the more knowing that. But with my mental health, it moves in waves and sometimes I need to hole up in a cave for a while until I’m feeling ready for human contact. So sometimes I can’t be everything you need me to be, and I’m really sorry for that. But it’s never something you’ve done or said, and I’m not freezing you out. In all honesty I probably don’t even realize how much time has passed since the last time we spoke. If you are able, reach out to me. I will almost always reach back. And I do hope that one day I’ve got enough of a handle on this thing that I can return the favour. I assure you, I am working on it.
"Everyone gets sad."
Of course they do. I know that. Depression is different, though. Sadness is an effect of a cause. Depression usually has no cause. Everything could be going perfectly well on a beautiful sunny summer day, but I’ll still look in the mirror and feel like a ghost is looking back at me. I will still walk through my home and touch my things and wonder how they got there, where I am, and how I will ever escape this prison. Knowing there’s no cause exacerbates the condition, because there’s no solution. So the thought runs through my head over and over, “Look around you, everything is fine. Why can’t you just be normal and enjoy things?” And it sucks. What I wouldn’t give to just be regular, ol’ sad.
"Have you tried ______?"
I have. Twice, probably. Thank you so much for caring about my wellbeing and wanting to offer a solution, I know it comes from a place of love and I really appreciate it. But I’m currently doing everything available to me to battle this monster and your suggestion actually makes me feel like you think this is a simple problem with a blanket solution. And sadly, it is so much more than that. If there’s something you have tried that eased the pain or you personally know someone who has made considerable progress, feel free to tell me about it. But please don’t be offended if I politely decline your advice. And if you think some time at the spa would be helpful, please feel free to invite me along on your next trip.
"So why is this happening? What caused this episode?"
Probably nothing. Probably absolutely nothing. What’s most likely is everything is great in my life and I have absolutely no complaints and also I hate myself and everything around me and want to curl up in a ball in the dark forever. Actually, reminding me of the fact that there’s no reason for the way I’m feeling makes me feel worse. Sometimes I actually feel like I need to make up a reason, just to satisfy the concerned party's need for one. If there was a problem to be solved or an event that could be prevented, don’t you think I’d have done that by now? There is no reason, other than genetics, for why I’ve stumbled into a pit again. But I could use some company while I’m down here. Or a snack, if you’ve got one.
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