The Mask We Wear
“I didn’t know you were struggling - you always seem so cheerful.” That sentence hurts. Not because people meat it badly, but it shows how well I’ve learned to wear a mask.
Many people with depression hide their pain. They smile, joke, and function on the outside.
For me it was being successful in my job, doing more than was really healthy for me. I also forced myself to take part in social events or gatherings, even though that they draged my down and made me feel even worse. No one ever suspected that I was already broken inside, not even the people closest to me had a clue. In hiding my depression, I was, and still am, the best actor.
The mask helps avoid stigma and difficult questions - but it also creates distance and loneliness. When you hear people talk about depressions as if they were just a modern trend and not a real, dangerous illness makes you even more determined to wear your mask.
I wore / wear the mask to not being called out as someone lazy that does not want to work, or getting asked why I am not happy because you have job and earn enough money to have a safe life.
From time to time I have to take the mask off, to let my true self out, the one that is sad on the brink of finally breaking. To be able to take the mask off I created a distance to friends and family, not wanting them to see me in my broken state. I pushed them away, kept them on a distance and slowly but surely I became lonely.
Behind the mask, the struggle is still there: the sleepless nights, the exhaustion, the self-doubt.
I have nights during which I sleep eight hours or more, but in the morning I’m not rested at all. It is rather the opposite, being very tired and knocked out. Other nights I wake up, my mind going crazy and my thoughts wandering to dark places, then I have to get up and use the skills I learned to keep me on a low stress level. For me it is reading, playing computer games or listening to music.
Those sleepless or not restfull nights fuel the already existing exhaustion of the depression even more and is pulling me further down. It makes normal daily tasks almost impossible and makes them to a huge effort to get them done.
From all the things above, the self-doubt grows, making me question my entire exsistance as well as my ablities that I have. Am I worth to continue? Will I ever get better? Why is everything against me? I can’t do this!
Sharing honestly feels risky, but it can also be a relief.
For most of my time living with depression I never truly shared how I feel. Always saying that I’m fine and doing goog, even though it wasn’t the case and I struggled hard with myself. Only a few months ago I was finally able to open up, sharing how I really feel and it was a huge relief for me. I shared my struggles with a doctor I trust and they help me huge time