I haven’t posted in a while because I was struggling to put my thoughts into words. I never liked talking about depression and other mental disorders because I never find the proper words to use. I myself is surprised that I am writing about depression again, a topic I never liked talking about.
This weekend, I spent my time talking to Patrick (my best friend), Gwen ( a very close friend of mine) and my older sister.
We’ve talked about lots of different things but the shocking thing was all of them opened up to me about their mental issues, and that only happens once in a blue moon.
People often talk to me about stuff like this, I honestly do not know why, I don’t see myself as somebody understanding and whenever they talk to me all I can do is say that it’s gonna be fine and hug them and I don’t think that’s counted as helping because for me, helping them is like telling them what to do so I can at least make them feel better. So whenever I comfort people with their problems, I feel bad about not being able to say anything but it’s gonna be okay.
One good example of that is Gwen, a very close friend of mine. Gwen suffers from anorexia and she has depression but nobody can really tell at first because she’s a writer for a magazine and her life seems perfect. Patrick has anxiety and he recently just talked to me about him having anorexia and that he’s starving himself because he feels fat and he wants to be admirable. My sister whom I thought was a rebel,told me that she only rebels because she was depressed and she’s doing it to cope with her depression.
The revelations of these people about their silent sufferings really went into my head. Especially with what my sister told me, I knew that she was depressed but I still went against her because she was drinking and rebelling against my father. I knew that using her depression as an excuse to do that is just simply wrong but hearing her tell me that she really just did that to cope with her depression and it was either that or suicide really just made me think that it was wrong to go against her. I felt terrible.
That made me realize that people are just like books, if you don’t look into them you don’t really know what their story is all about. All you know is what you see on the cover. Some people have pretty and positive covers but they contain sad stories, some people have black and scary covers and they contain really good and positive stories, every word in their stories have a reason behind them and all we can do is stick around waiting til we get to the end. We don’t have to be a major character, we can be a minor character who helps them in little ways or a reader who is silent but always watching out for them.