Being Depressed is easy, living is much harder
If I am depressed, then I know I am ugly, undesirable, uninteresting, and doomed to be alone and miserable no matter what I do. So, I don’t have to do anything. I don’t have to make any changes. I can lean into being lazy and boring and just keep doing all the things I’ve been doing already.
If I decide I want to live and don’t want to be depressed anymore, then I have to make an effort. I have to deconstruct the negative views I hold against myself and open up to the possibility that they may not be true, and just distorted versions of my worst days, made to seem like a lifetime, or fixed personality trait. I would have to put myself out there, as cliche as it always sounds, and risk connecting with people, whereas before, I was content in my loneliness. Loneliness is safe. It’s predictable.
Opening yourself up to possibilities, whatever they may be, opens you up to potential harm. But that is always a risk. It could allow for so much more than just “the worst.”
They say you shouldn’t compare yourself to others and it is a double edged sword. I could look at people who are worse off than me, and chide myself for feeling sad with all that I have. Or I can look at people who are better off than me, and feel jealous that I am not where they are. It’s all about perception though. I try to remind myself things could always be worse. And they are for a lot of people. Systematic racism, sexism, poverty, war, rape, disease...I could be stuck in someone’s basement with just a bucket to piss in, and that’s still a possibility because people are just so fucked up.
I’ve been trying to think about it differently though. I’ve been trying to think about how I feel so awful, but actually have a lot going for me. I could look at those who are “worse off” and put in some effort towards my life because if they were in my position they would do the same. They would love to be in my position, and that’s not me being cocky, that’s me imagining what I would want in horrific situations. A roof over my head, food to eat, credit cards to run up, a small savings, and a cat to keep me company. And more than anything, the freedom to choose and direct my path. So many people have that choice stolen from them.
Another cliche is that should is the thief of happiness. I can understand that because it puts pressure, which is often unnecessary, on the proverbial you, to do more, be more, see more, anything more, etc. But again it all comes back to possibility. Things that I should do are also things that I could do.
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