I've never been (Un)happier

by Shaheen Bhatt

But make no mistake, my lifestyle is an advantage when it comes to living with my condition. It provides me with easy access to the medical and social resources I need to support and fuel my recovery, which are both necessities and luxuries so many don’t have access to. I can wake up on a bad day and afford to stay in bed. I can pay the price that good medical care and therapy come at and I am lucky to have family and friends who are well-informed and supportive. Most importantly, I’ve been able to cultivate an awareness of my condition in myself, and it’s the only way I’ve been able to rid myself of the shame those with mental illnesses are often plagued with.

I don’t want to kill myself. I haven’t been actively suicidal for years. It’s just that on some days I simply wish I were already dead. I’ve learned over the years there’s a big difference between wishing you were dead and wanting to kill yourself.

There is almost never an actual reason for this pain, almost never a concrete, upsetting thought that causes my tears. On the occasion I can say there is, I feel a strange sense of gratitude. I feel lucky on days I actually know why I’m sad.

When you’re in the throes of what feels like all-consuming pain, sleep is respite. It’s your last refuge from the unrelenting guerrilla attacks carried out against you by your own mind—and here I was, unable to sleep.

I loved how alcohol made me feel. It was an instant tranquillizer, making me blissfully numb to the flood of bad feelings I was otherwise unable to contain. I soon discovered that if I drank enough, I could impose on myself the lack of consciousness I so desperately needed.

A person experiencing their first depressive episode is more likely to attempt suicide, while someone who has lived through a few cycles has more or less learned how to cope with them, and more importantly recognized that they eventually end.

Maybe my only problem is that I’m one of the ones who can’t forget.

living with depression isn’t easy but loving someone who lives with depression isn’t easy either. It’s challenging enough to live with a depressive person who has learned how to navigate their episodes and has understood the impact they can have, but living with someone who does not understand what is happening to them is a whole other type of challenge.