The other day, a friend asked me what they could do to help whenever I am depressed. And it’s a funny question because, WHEN I am actually depressed, I don’t think I am worthy of helping. It’s also a timely question because I’m nose diving into a low after weeks of blissful stability.
My lows are not only sleeping for days, though that is definitely involved. They mostly consist of such a dearth of love for myself that if I saw it in my own family I would be terrified. The things I say to myself go behind playground bullying and hinge more on horror movie. They paralyze me.
So, to answer the question, when I am depressed, when I am in a low; I need to know that I am loved. I need to know that I am worth fighting for. I desperately need to know that people care about me. I also admit that this is a tall order and not for everyone. But if you’re able, even if I push you away while I’m down here, reach down to me until I start to reach up.
I’m the same. On my low days, I just want to crawl under the covers and shut everything and everybody out. I know in those depths of despair that I need somebody to reach out to me, to help me feel like I’m not the unlovable, worthless, unwanted slime that I feel like, but there’s no one there. The only person who could ever get in was my ex, and now that he’s gone, it makes my low days even worse, because now I’ve got the crippling fear that I’ll never have somebody like that again, and that I’ll die as alone as I feel. When I hit a low period, I just want to be numb. I don’t want to feel the pain.