It's Depression ... But it's not that bad. Right?
I wasn’t sure whether or not to share this. It’s not polished. It’s not beautiful. It’s not easy. But it’s honest. And I’m trying to be more open about the parts of the day I usually hide — the spirals, the quiet isolation, the moments I still keep showing up through, even when it feels like I’m unraveling underneath it all. Maybe you’ve had days like this, too.
It’s morning. I’m alone. Time to get going. Too much to do. Post photos, edit videos, record gym sales from the previous day, analyze the previous month, eat. No, I’m not hungry. It’s only 5:30 am. Just coffee.
Make a plan.
Fuck plans. Just go.
I’m tired. When did I fall asleep? 2:30 am? I don’t know. I remember seeing my phone at 4. This is stupid.
Stop thinking. Just work. Check on your friends, how are they doing?
Distract. Distract. Distract.
Sit down at the piano.
How is it 9 am? Should I eat? I’m not hungry.
Fuck. I’m late for work.
I’m lonely. I should reach out to friends. NO. Don’t. Don’t bother them. They don’t even really want to be your friend. They’re just good people, and they feel bad for you and what you are going through. Don’t weigh them down.
Work. Data. Plan. I can plan for work just fine. Why can’t I plan for anything else?
Because something will stop you. Something will get in the way. Something will fuck with your plan.
And then you will feel . . . defeated. Sad. More lonely. Hopeless. Dead.
Drown out the thoughts with exercise. Go for a run.
Climb. My one time of the day to feel a little social for a short time.
Should I take pictures? No. I don’t really do that anymore. I want to. But nobody cares.
Sad. Push it all down. Smile . . . there are people watching.
“How are you doing?”
“Great” [lie]
Turn to them. How are they? What can I do to help? How can I serve this community? How can I brighten anyone’s day just the tiniest amount so that they may not have to go through this. I don’t want anyone else to ever have to feel this way . . .
But, I know so many who feel... worse. People who can’t absorb themselves in work. Look how well I’m functioning. Why would I even feel remotely bad about myself when I can get so much done; when I can turn to help others?
I’ve got it good. Right?
Time to sleep. Wind down.
No. Go to the gym. Need more exercise, or the sleep will never come. Wear yourself the fuck down.
Now bed. Still awake. Still awake. Still awake . . .
I’ve lived some variation of this dialogue most of my life. Intermixed with varying degrees of near crippling social anxiety. The anxiety is probably what triggers the depression. The desire to reach out is so strong. But I can’t. Intuitively, I know I can. But realistically, I cannot. But I still hope, I still go on. Sometimes out of stubbornness. Sometimes out of love. Sometimes for no reason at all.
If you live or have ever lived a day like this, I see you. You’re not alone. And maybe… neither am I.
Thank you for being here with me.
-Lee
Thank you for being so genuine, Lee. I have always admired your photography and knowledge of the wildflowers and the the whole landscape. In fact, kind of jealous that you get to live up there and see it every day. I believe your struggles are real. Even though it may seem people do not care, we do. I do. And I love to see your photos. They brighten my day every time! Thank you for being real.
I see you Lee. I hear you...the depression, the anxiety. The anxiety is really coming through, here.
Even if no one ELSE cares if you take pictures, do it anyways. Because you want to, and you and what you want matter.
And anyway, I care if you take pictures. I love seeing the world through your lens.
Of course you have it good, Lee! And there will always be folks who have it better, and folks who have it far, far worse.
And...that does not negate your pain or your struggle, nor invalidate your experience. It is real, and it deserves time and space and loving kindness.
Behind the words "I can't reach out," I hear fear. Fear of being too much of one thing or not enough of another; fear of being a burden on others. I know that fear like the back of my hand...and I can spot it from a mile away.
You are not a burden, and you are not alone my friend. It is brave of you to say so.
Sometimes, it's almost easier to write it in a post than to actually ask for the support you need, isn't it?
Either way, I see this as not only an expression of vulnerability and experience, but also a reminder that those of us who struggle are not alone, AND a signal that you could use some support.
Keep showing up for you, Lee. And keep reaching out. I'm here.