What Lies Beneath

Tonight I have to write about depression (sorry Finian, autism is sooo last season dahling).

Mostly my depression is kept under wraps with medication and sound advice from my wonderful GP.
Occasionally, though, despite my best efforts, it sneaks up on me and takes grip and I'd like to try to explain what it's like.  Because I'm fun like that.

I can't get to grips with the fact that on the surface I seem fine, while a big black hole is circling deep beneath the surface.




I can talk, move, work through my daily jobs and care for my family. 
I can converse, respond and act appropriately...except I'm not really there at all..

It's as if my true self has become invisible, and I feel impotent rage that no-one has noticed I've vanished.
This rage is utterly unfair, as how can anyone know how I feel if I don't have the words to tell them?
At the same time I crave to become invisible and wish for nothing more than to exist on a bare island with no links to the mainland.

I'm not sharing this to elicit dramatic interventions or rescues. 
I can live with depression, mostly quite comfortably, but sometimes it just weighs a little heavy.
I'm just trying to give you a snapshot of what depression is...I suppose to give you a small window (if you want to peep into it!) into my world.




I suppose, like autism, depression is easy to dismiss because on the surface I appear so (*cough*) normal.
We have all heard the phrases "lighten up", "you think too much", "you could snap out of it if you really tried".
I would give almost anything if it was that simple.
I missed my medication one day last week (one feckin day!) and boy am I suffering the consequences.

There's no need for anyone to worry on my behalf, as I will get through this trough, as always.

I don't purposely hide my low-times... I'm just trying to figure out why I bury them from sight in a spinal reflex.
Is it shame at appearing weak?
Is it dread that I will be abandoned?
Is it fear that I am not worth being listened to?

Anyway, I have learned that the only way to deal with episodes like these are lots of chocolate and 30 Rock...plus tea and maybe a glass of pinot grigio.
I have learned to become accepting of times like these and not to waste time and energy fighting it. 
It will pass.
I have learned that I have good (and very special) friends I don't have to pretend with...you know who you are...the ones who don't bat an eye when I cancel going out with you (again) because I'm a bit too mad.

I'm just trying to explain what depression is like as if/when I see you I surely won't have the words.

Right, where's that chocolate?