Paint it Black

This is the first post since the end of April. 2 months. The post before that one was a month and a half. I’ll be honest dear audience, I have been slacking on this whole blog thing. There is plenty that this blog could be about; The state of the Care Center, my work for Hope, Alexis’ visit to South Africa, the job hunt for when I return home, my troubles with visa renewal and subsequent plans for departure, the other intern HOPE had for a while (also named Thomas), or any number of things I have experienced and done in my time here. Instead, this blog will focus on another topic, a subject lurking behind some of my other posts. I have sat down to write this post multiple times in my service here, but I could never finish, not to my satisfaction. It got to the point that every time I would try to write about something else, this one would slip back in, and neither would end up getting written. Well today, I will finish what I have started so many times. The writing may be a little disjointed, I do have plenty of drafts to pull from.

Depression: “a psychoneurotic or psychotic disorder marked especially by sadness, inactivity, difficulty in thinking and concentration, a significant increase or decrease in appetite and time spent sleeping, feelings of dejection and hopelessness”. Straight from Merriam Webster’s dictionary. It is a definition that both accurately describes and horribly underrepresents what I, and many others, experience. You (or at least I) see articles, memes, and snippets on the internet all the time about this topic. Some are joking, some are ways to deal with it, some are just statements of what it is, some are how to prevent it, etc. I will attempt to share what depression is for me, specifically in this setting.

Depression is not the sadness extreme sadness I have experienced here. It is not the loneliness I feel, separated from my family and friends. It is not the hopelessness I feel that my work may account to nothing, or the feelings of failure in my purpose here that I suffer. The loss I have felt here, the difficulties I have gone through, the challenges I have faced, these are not depression. All of these are a part of it, but depression is greater than the sum of its parts. The examples I have given are all both causes and symptoms of my depression. At what point is my inability to muster the effort to get out of bed, wash myself, do my dishes, clean my house, get outside and get fresh air, etc. change from a symptom to a cause of my continued depression? Are my self-doubts and social anxiety part of the cause, or symptoms?

My writing is beginning to become cyclical (like depression can be), and I am just restating myself. A part of this is because it is difficult to write about depression. Heck, it is hard to talk/think about depression. I feel like depression in our society is one of the most well-known psychotic disorders yet there is a giant taboo surrounding it. In a society that doesn’t encourage weakness or vulnerability, or even being different, it is easily dismissed as just sadness, and we are told to keep our sadness (or emotions in general) to ourselves. It is not easy for me to admit “weakness”, or to ask for help. It is a part of me that I am not super happy about. I can view how it effects my personal and professional life, and I do not like the results. It is something I am constantly working on. In a way, this post is a part of that. By writing it, by putting my personal emotions in the public’s eye (something I hate doing) I am attempting to improve my vulnerability.

Depression is also hard to write/think about because while I am caught in a “depressive episode”, it is hard to muster the will to focus on doing anything, let alone writing a blog (especially a blog about what I am going through). There have been entire weekends where I barely moved from my bed. I have had a sink and counter full of dishes that I could not muster the will to clean. Instead, I would either wash the dish and utensils just before using them, or just pick the least dirty dish and use that. The effort, even to draw a bath (I don’t have a shower) and wash myself seemed like the hardest thing in the world. There have been many days where getting up for work seemed pointless. And the worst times are when, even when I can get out of my bed and go participate in life, I feel utterly alone and hopeless. I just go through the motions, feeling disconnected and gray. It is not sadness, but more the lack of any emotion. It is easy to picture depression as being a stormy day on a wave tossed sea where tears and loneliness reign supreme. It is harder to associate depression with a bright sunny day, in a beautiful country, with a refreshing sea breeze blowing in (a norm here). But when I am depressed, that bright sunny day seems unenjoyable. Not bad, just incapable of being reveled in. 

In my rambling way I think I may have covered what my depression is (not fully to my satisfaction, but to the best of my limited writing abilities). The next step would be to write about how I deal with it/overcome it. Honestly, I think it is like alcoholism. No one ever really overcomes depression, you are just a “recovering” depressive.  You ride the waves as best as possible and mitigate the symptoms. The best course, would most likely be treatment, but I dislike the idea of medication. Talking about it with others helps, to a degree. I am a big fan of getting plenty of exercise and fresh air. Distractions also prove useful. I have read a lot here. I have embraced this countries habit of downloaded tv shows and movies (all gotten from others, none downloaded illegally myself *shifty eyes*). I have completed more of the video games I own than I have before (I played my first game to full completion here. I have finished shorter games before, but they were usually spaced out over a longer period of time. More often I get bored with them before the end). But those all get stale after a while, and the effort some of them take seems too great during some episodes. When that happens, all that you can do is just wait for it to pass. Hope that tomorrow, you wake up, and being able to see the bright side is easier. (For those of you who are expecting a Missionary to include prayer and meditation as the answer to the problem, don’t feel discouraged. Those fall under list of things that help, but they are not the end-all-be-all solution. I have not written about them here because my faith is more of a personal thing and I am striving to keep from forcing my beliefs onto anyone in my time here).

This post is completed. Well, it is not truthfully, but I am finished writing it. I ramble on, it does not cover the subject fully, and I am unhappy with it, but I have made a promise to myself to post it today. I want to write about other parts of my experience here, and hopefully now that this blog is completed, I can. Please do not view this blog as me saying this has been a horrible time, because it is not. I will strive in future posts to prove that, but I have already taken up too much space here.