The characteristics of mental illnesses are oftentimes placed in boxes, when they can actually be quite hard to categorize. When this happens, it can make a person with non-stereotypical symptoms seem better than they are, and make their feelings less credible; making it harder for them to receive the help that they need. For people with high functioning depression, this is an every day struggle. From the outside, the person appears perfectly normal, and problem free. On the inside, they are barely surviving to the next day. The main issue is that oftentimes, this person can sense that something is off, but they are not quite sure themselves what the matter is. It is often the overachievers, perfectionists, and the students at the top of their class who experience this type of depression. This is not to say that there are other people who do not face this challenge, but it is common for those who are already high achievers to push through their depression by continuing to accomplish more.
The common coping mechanism is to not cope with the issue at all; to continue going about everyday life as if everything is perfectly fine. Not only is this unfair to the person struggling, but it is extremely dangerous. The actions of this person are unknown to others, and to themselves. The ending of each day is unpredictable.
High functioning depression is real, and I have it. In the past, I have dealt with the mainstream depression; the chronic, crippling, actively pursuing suicide type of depression, but now I have a different kind. Nothing in my immediate life is wrong, but yet everything is wrong at the same time. I am constantly tired, never wanting to leave my bed, only allowing myself five extra minutes before having to get up and start my day. Once I get up, I feel better; it is just the initial annoyance of having to wake up and the thought of being productive that makes me anxious and exhausted, even if I have had eight hours of sleep.
It is losing interest in the things that you love most because you just do not feel like fighting for the energy to do those things anymore. It is being tired after doing absolutely nothing, and going to bed at 8 p.m. It is isolating yourself, secretly hoping that someone will notice and invite you to hang out with them, but also hoping that no one notices so that you do not have to worry about socializing. It is answering "I'm fine," because you know that if you say anything different, people do not actually want to hear it, or they will say something insensitive that makes everything worse.
The simplest tasks are such a chore and such a burden, but you do them anyway in order to keep some sort of normalcy in your life. It is taking on more than you know you can handle, just to stay productive as a way to talk yourself out of the fact that you are actually sick. If you give into your feelings, then you are really sick; if you trick your mind into carrying on a daily routine, then you must be fine, right?
Little do people know how much effort it took just to put on some sweatpants, a pullover, and walk ten minutes to class; how much courage it took to sit in the front of each classroom when you just wanted to sit in the back and go to sleep; how much persistence it takes to color code and organize your schedule when you know that you are too tired to actually do any of those things; to make to-do lists that are never getting done.
"Just snap out of it," you say to yourself. "Just try not to think about it." That is so much easier said than done. It is all that you think about. Not because you want to sulk in your own misery, but because in the back of your mind, your true self is scared and screaming from the anxiety of what it feels like to not be yourself for no real known reason at all. The scariest thing is to be subconsciously sad, or slightly unhappy, even when you have one of the best days of your life. To have the thought of "I would just be better off dead," running through your mind 1000 times a day, even though your life is going great and you would never go through with a suicidal thought.
Before you go on to think that I may need professional help, I have it. The truth is, I am fine. I know that I am fine, and I know that I am not. I know what to look for, and how to ask for help when I need it. It is when we completely ignore every sign and symptom that we should start to worry. I am aware of the resources in place, but found it necessary to speak out on what I am dealing with because so many people do not. Maybe you find that you have these feelings as well, and did not know what it was, and now you do.
The reason for writing this was to eliminate some of the stigma, and to bring some awareness to a form of depression that many people do not know about. This is a reminder that people are different, therefore their symptoms may be different, but that does not make their illness any less real. If you do feel this way, please know that it does get better, and that there are ways to receive help. You do not have to suffer silently.
"Just because I'm functioning doesn't mean I'm okay."
