Depression, and indeed mental illness in general, is a weird fucking thing. It is so unnerving when the darkness and demons that you have to battle are coming from your own head. And for me at least, when I am in the midst of some of my worst battles with depression’s demons, I find that my reactions can be strange.
Sometimes, I will find humor in the dark and twisted, or perhaps it is my demons that are finding the humor. And others might find these reactions awkward or off-putting. Hell, even I find them awkward or off-putting.
And sometimes the strangest thing is that in the midst of the depressive episode I might feel a spark of brightness or feel slightly better about this dark humor or even about anything else. And this always feels like a betrayal. And I know now that the betrayal is being felt by my demons, not me, but it still feels so personal, so real. It seems like the darkness resists me feeling that spark of happiness. I am now at a place in my recovery where I know that this is one of the many terrible lies that depression whispers to us, and it whispers it so fucking well. Fighting through those lies and fighting out of the darkness can be exhausting, but it is possible and it isn’t something that you have to do alone.
Sometimes we smile in the darkness, and our demons don’t like that. But fuck them. Because it is them that doesn’t like the light, not us, which is the biggest thing that I wanted to communicate with this post. Well, that and my reminder that none of us are ever alone.
And the fact that I am writing this and you are reading it is proof of that, so thank you for proving my point.