Sometimes you really don’t see the point of living.
iampunha - you’ve got it so right about both how other people react to us, and also the ‘comfort’ of depression.
It’s familiarity that … well. And I was hesitant to post it, but I figured this was the place for it, if there was any.
Ninetothesky: I’d smile, but it’d be one of those bitter smiles you give to people when they dicover uncomfortable truths about your life, y’know? (I’m not uncomfortable with you, just people who act with knowledge they don’t actually have.)
And experiencing it for the first time … hoi. Even if you could infuse a newbie with the familiarity of what it is, trying to figure out why you just don’t care is … to me, fundamentally dichotomous (fucked in the head, even), because then you have to care about why you don’t care, which is a vicious circle that can be impossible to see out of.
This is what it feels like to me.
It’s like being alone in a boat, in the middle of a lake. There’s fog all around and I cant’ see the shore. I hear the faint whispers of the world around me but I can’t follow the sound, nor can I make out what is being said. I’m motionless and frightened but I have no energy to put the oar into the water to escape the situation. I just sit there hoping the fog will clear. I want someone to find me, grab me up and lift me out of it but I am powerless to call out for help, I can’t raise my arm should a hand become extended to me. Tears stream down my face but I don’t sob. Sobbing is too strenuous.
When the fog does clear, I paddle to shore, exhausted and raw. It’s another day before I can actually truly reach civization and live again.
Rinse, repeat.
Again, so right. Depression is so ‘me! me! me!’. You can’t stop thinking about yourself and your problems, even though you hate doing it. It’s so damn repetitive, like a movie spooling round and round…
Actually, I have found that some people who know about me can treat me very sympathetically.
Another aspect of the ‘comfort of depression’ is that the effort of trying to make yourself better is just too much and too difficult. I’ve lost sight of even *why *I want to be better.
Pointless. Hopeless. Lethargic. Bored. Not interested in anything. Friends who cannot and will never understand how hard it is to go looking for a job in this state. Irritable Bowel Syndrome kicking into high gear as the depression gets worse.
The sudden realization that tomorrow is my birthday and my only plans involve laying in bed and praying to a god I don’t believe in that I will soon feel a quick and painless death.
I have felt that. I never thought about killing myself, but I thought more than once that if I were to fall asleep tonight and not wake up tomorrow - well that wouldn’t be so bad.
Unlike some of the others, I don’t really think about myself or dwell on my problems. Heck, I don’t really have that many problems. It is just that I don’t have the energy to care about anything.
I think that the time has come in this thread to have a group hug. So,
{{{{{{{{{{{{everyone who has posted, and everyone who is too depressed to post}}}}}}}}}}}}
I wonder how many others feel like I do that I don’t necessarily feel sad. Sadness is something for me that is quite different from depression. There is a lack of happyness I’d associate with my depression, but it doesn’t translate to what I would call sadness.
I’m lucky enough not to feel shame for being depressed, just annoyed or sometime angry at myself. I also don’t have problems dealing with others except for some shyness. I am always amazed at people, how they can function and keep going, I love peoples strength and admire their ability to be people. I see bad people as aberant, not as what people really are, in this I’m very optimistic really.
Oh I very much agree - as I said in my original post, depression isn’t the same as being sad. And I too feel no shame over my depression. Frustration maybe, but no shame.
A lot of people in this thread have done well to describe the feelings of depression, especially where food is concerned. Loss of appetite is a common symptom of depression. In my worst states of hopelessness and despair, I feel like I am in a small, very dimly lit room with no doors or windows. The walls are very high. All I can see for light is a small opening at the top of one of the walls or in the ceiling. This light represents the only hope I might have in life, and I might hear some sounds on the outside, but it’s out of reach. I just want it to go dark or have someone seal up the opening so that I can forget about what’s going on outside of my mental prison, because I don’t want to be reminded that it’s there and I can’t have any part of it. I feel like I cannot escape from where I am. There is nothing to do to pass the time in the room, but that doesn’t matter because I don’t feel like doing anything anyway. All I would want to do is just lie there and hope to disappear. It’s as if time doesn’t exist anymore. The next minute is just as devoid of purpose as the last and the one before it. I don’t want to talk to anyone and I don’t want anyone to talk to me. I don’t want to eat or even recognize that I even exist. That’s how depression feels to me.
Depression is a terrible, terrible feeling, and in retrospect, it’s scary, though at the time it doesn’t seem frightening since one is usually so immersed in such feelings of despair that he doesn’t care. A lot of people think it’s just “the blues” or “being down in the dumps”, but for someone who’s been there, it’s much worse than that.
it feels like nothingness. nothing matters. im unsatisfied. you want things to change…but youdont know how they should be. you dwell on the bad stuff and dont even realize the good. everything you once enjoyed means nothing, it has been subdued to a never ending emptyness. everything feels like its missing something but you can never figure out what. the weight on your mind is overwhelming, but you weight it out because there is supposed to be a light at the end of the tunnel. your not sure if you will ever see this light, but itsthe only hope you have. all you want to do is sleep, even if you are not tired at all, just to get away.
Bingo. Also, necromancy alert.
Withdrawal: I physically avoid other people, desire communication and contact less, just want to be left alone. When I don’t answer the phone, it’s not because I can’t order my muscles to do it, it’s because I want to find out whether what you want to talk about is going to require thought, empathy, or decision-making so I can call you back when I’m up to that particular task.
Brain-fog: Not a general fog or weight or other stuff that folks are mentioning, but an inability to focus my thoughts well enough to comprehend what I’m trying to read or formulate ideas into something I’m trying to write. (Something of a problem for a research scientist.)
Distraction: I am a champion distractor of myself. Anything will do, and I’ll do it with incredible focus. Whether it’s a random TV show marathon, endless perusal of online message boards, online poker (quit this one when Full Tilt went belly up with my entire bankroll), or Resident Evil 4 on the PS2 (Damn kid took his 360 with him off to college!), I can distract myself for weeks at a time, only coming out of the stupor when the money runs out and I MUST come up with at least SOME billable hours or I’ll end up on the street (I’m on an hourly government contract…they only get concerned when I don’t spend money FAST enough). I often think my entire life is about distraction, and get the feeling that somehow everybody else is getting a much richer experience from their lives.
And I’ve just been diagnosed with MILD chronic depression! I hate to even contemplate what you SEVERE sufferers go through! I still have a good range of emotions, rarely feel hopeless, and NEVER think about hurting myself. To everybody in this thread, posters and lurkers alike, I am sorry for what you’re going through, and wish you nothing but the best.
P.S. Now that I’ve seen a therapist, sometimes when I’m really depressed, I’ll do a self-check: “Have I thought of hurting myself?” “No.” “Wait! Does that count?” :smack: 
It feels like I weigh two tons. If I’m moving, it’s like moving through molasses or some other viscous liquid. There’s also a very heavy weight on my chest, and it hurts to breathe.
Also, and this is more of a PMDD symptom, it feels like my skin has been ripped off. I feel so raw and sensitive about everything that even noises feel like a physical attack. It’s difficult for me to interact with anyone without feeling like everyone is attacking me. I want to curl up in a ball and physically defend myself from what are really just words.
Yes, this.
Add to it an intense self-hatred and cutting up arms and legs with paperclips.
Oooh… 
Like being reminded that a casual acquaintance is now gone. Irritation, general sadness, and nothing in life is as new, as happy, or as exciting as it was a moment ago.
RIP Khadaji.