Just what does depression feel like?

After the shock death of everyone's favourite funny-man Robin Williams yesterday, the world was in mourning. Comments ranged from surprise at how someone so seemingly happy could decide to end their life, to calls for the media to report depression and suicide in a more ethical manner than has been before.

So what does depression feel like? Is depression just feeling sad? Can you snap out of it? Does thinking happy thoughts help you get out of being depressed?

Here's what it was like for me.

It's not being sad, because that would mean that you feel something
Sadness is a good sign. Feeling sad means you have emotion, and if you can feel sad you can feel extremes. Depression feels like, well, nothing. Your favourite movie leaves you bored. Your funniest joke doesn't tickle you. Nothing makes you sad or upset, and nothing makes you happy. You feel like shell of a person, unable to feel anything except a sense of being trapped and guilt. Guilt for knowing you shouldn't feel this way.

It's like everyone else can enjoy the sunshine but you're shrouded in fog
You can see everyone else making the most of their life, but you feel numb. It's like your friends and you are on the same beach but they have the sun shining on them and you don't. Everyone around you is sunbathing and playing volleyball and socialising and having so much fun, but for you there's no sunshine. It's drizzly and cold and you can't even see the sea thanks to the mist. Everyone around you wants you to enjoy life because they are. And you can see they are. And you want to, so desperately. But how can you when your brain and body doesn't feel like your own? When you feel like you're living in a haze?

It's when sleep seems like the best thing ever, because for those precious moments you're not trapped

I used to love dreaming. Because in those dreams I felt inexplicable joy and unfathomable sadness. Dreams seemed to be how my brain would cope with the lack of emotional processing throughout the day - it was a natural outlet for the experiences I had encountered but been unable to process in my waking life. Even if I had a dreamless night, the relief of knowing that for a few hours I could rest made sleep my best friend. It's why suicide seems like a good option - one I've contemplated many times. Because it ends the numbness, the hopelessness and despair of the illness you have. It's seemingly the only way for peace.

It's not being able to recall good memories. It's like they never even happened.

My ex's favourite saying was 'think of the good times' but really, it's impossible. Everything seems bleak, like you're a spectator in your own life's story. You know you had fun and enjoyed life at one point, because you haven't always felt this way. But for some reason those memories seem lost, shrouded in that fog which consumes all emotion and logic. And if you can think of them, there's no emotion attached. It's as if you're watching someone else's home videos - you can see what's going on, you can see people having a good time, but how can you feel anything if you weren't there?

It's not being able to ask for help, because really, no one can
A lot of comments were of people feeling angry after Robin took his life. It's like they were personally insulted they didn't reach out to help him. But it doesn't work like that. People can help no more than they can someone with cancer, diabetes, or cystic fibrosis. Doctors can barely change the chemicals floating around the body, so how can Joe Public help? Of course, it may seem that taking you out for a few drinks or for a lunch date will 'fix' you, to people who think you're just a bit sad. It won't. It's a temporary fix to a medical condition and all the tea and talk in the world can't help that. In fact, it leaves things worse. 'Why didn't you tell me' always made me feel guilty. I didn't need someone to tread on eggshells around me. I needed the normalcy of my close friends and family. Fortunately my family, when they found out the extent of how depressed I was, offered nothing but understanding. 

It's feeling scared to say you're depressed because people just can't ever understand. 

You can have all the money in the world, the most dotingly perfect family, a wonderful relationship and a job that earns you enough money to be able to live a comfortable life. But none of this matters. I say again, cancer doesn't discriminate. It targets the rich, the poor, the seeing, the blind, the old, the young, the happy and the sad. The same with depression. It's an illness, it's nothing to do with lifestyle or wealth, or whether you're a loner or a social bunny. It's not just feeling sad or low or being in a rut. It's not thinking about good times. It's not about any of that. And the sooner people realise just what depression is, the sooner we'll find sufferers more willing to express themselves. 

It's making the illogical seem the only option

I know, looking back, the decisions and thoughts I had at my lowest points weren't logical. But to me, they made perfect sense. In fact, nothing made more sense than my warped ideas and no advice and encouragement from those worried about me would work. This is what most people fail to realise about taking your own life when depressed. It seems so logical and clear at the time. It's the most perfect way out. 

When the working environment and employers cater for the depressed as they would someone with a broken leg, when doctors seek to treat the root cause instead of passing out pills, and when the public see that wealth and status are inconsequential, perhaps then we'll see an improvement in how this condition is treated. Depression isn't being just sad, it isn't a choice, it isn't moping for the sake of moping.

Me? I can say that it was a long struggle to get out of bed half the time. It took agonising willpower to not let it beat me. I could see my life passing me by one foggy day after the next, and eventually got the help and advice I needed to make my life a little bit better, day by day. It'll always be there, I know that. But for now, I can feel happy again.

There isn't a cure for depression yet. Who knows whether there ever will be. But with Robin Williams bringing the true seriousness of it to light, I just hope people will understand this complex condition. Even just a little bit.

Photo Louis Vest