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depression comix #321
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comics and illustrations by clay jonathan
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So true.
This. While I understand intellectually what my family and friends say, emotionally I can’t understand how they would feel anything other than relief. I feel fortunate to have family members that are willing to talk with me about it.
I’m 15 yrs old. My grandmother died when I was 2 1/2 yrs old, my dad died when I was 5, my nana died ehen I was 9 and my grandfather died when I was 12 (I never met my other grandfather since he fied when my mom was 9.) My mom and dad are only children, so I don’t have aunts, uncles or cousins.
Moving on after a death is NEVER easy. So, now it’s just me and mom….and I pray she stays around for a long time.
Sad part is, it is easy to move on with your life after the death of the loved one. Life goes on and people around us will tell us to mourn but then live your life. Don’t waste it on the people who are no longer with us.
True, but grief changes you. That lost person is always there, and you are always unable to share your life moving on with them.
I know a couple of people who lost loved ones to depression, and I can tell you that while they have finally moved on (it’s been several years since), they each have a big gaping and aching hole where that person used to be. And every year, in the day they lost that person, they remember them, commemorate and with great sorrow.
The fact is, it was NOT easy for them to move on. It took many long, hard years to get to a place where the grief was not overwhelming. You have to move on, eventually. That is human nature, and we have to do it to survive. But to say it is easy ignores the hurt and diminishes how much that person meant to the ones who were left behind.
My comment is aimed more toward depressed person than the one dealing with the loss. That ultimately they are right about not being needed and in the long run it wouldn’t really matter if they were gone. Of course there are different people with different feelings, we can’t be 100% sure how they react but as I said. Life goes on and were just not that important.
Healthy people, tell your loved ones how you feel. Don’t assume they already know. Even if they should, they might not. Their brain might not let them. They need your words.
And tell them often. The first few times they will not hear you, and the next few times they will not believe you.
Bill Joel had some good musical advice on this (though he was talking about romance):
Tell her about it
Tell her everything you feel
Give her every reason to accept
That you’re for real
Tell her about it
Tell her all your crazy dreams
Let her know you need her
Let her know how much she means
Listen boy
It’s not automatically a certain guarantee
To insure yourself
You’ve got to provide communication constantly
When you love someone
You’re always insecure
And there’s only one good way
To reassure
Tell her about it
Let her know how much you care
When she can’t be with you
Tell her you wish you were there
Tell her about it
Every day before you leave
Pay her some attention
Give her something to believe
All too true, sadly.
Yup – That’s me on the bottom half
Gotta admit this one is spot on
Yeah. Though I’d say it’s more like an argument with two parts of one’s brain: the one that deals with facts, like the fact that it would devestate a lot of people whom I love; and the one that feels and infers things, like the idea that I screw up, it would be the best thing for those people if I weren’t around. Facts are harder to hear than feelings, much of the time.
One of the early steps in my recovery was realizing that feeling something strongly doesn’t make it true. It’s possible to feel absolutely certain of something that’s absolutely false.
Knowing, intellectually, that this isn’t true does little to help.
Everybody knows that love makes you blind. And we are fine with it, because being in love feels so good and is beautiful. That human beings are capable of other powerful emotions that also turn you ignorant for reality is something we do not really want to talk about. But it is true: Understanding and feeling are totally seperate parts of the brain, that usually do not work together very well and usually our feelings are stronger. Lady Depression is a lying bitch.
For me, I know that my mom would be grief-striken if i were to go…. And that’s what makes me feel guilty. Sometimes I feel like I’ve ‘tricked’ her and I’m continuing to ‘trick’ her, and if i weren’t such a selfish person I’d make everyone hate me so it wouldn’t be so bad if I’d finally go. Same for my friends.
Who has real life friends and family anyway? xD (and this is my awkward way of saying some people don’t and some people do but that doesn’t mean said friends care necessarily in every case).
I really do try to use my skills and follow my treatment regiment and have boundaries. I’ve known intellectually that the bottom panel stuff isn’t true or real. When does it go away? When does it stop fueling my apparent need to burn down everything I love?
???? I wish I had an answer for you. Keep following your treatments and keep telling the non-intellectual part of yourself that repeats those bottom panel thoughts that it is lying. Keep fighting for yourself. You are so worth it. Xoxoxo.
Thank you. I just don’t want to hurt people with what I am anymore. I leave chaos and bad feelings in my wake. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I know what it feels like and I don’t want to do it to anyone.
The bottom panel stuff is the lies of depression trying to kill us. I don’t think it ever really goes away, but with the right treatment we can learn how to not let it overwhelm us.
I relate to this so much, but I don’t think my family thinks the same as the sister in the first panel. My mother actually said word by word that I was “tearing our family apart”. “You don’t even try. This treatment is expensive and I don’t even have any time left”. I feel very guilty for having this illness and I do think the same as the main character here. It seems that everyone just have lost hope in me and the medication is delaying the inevitable.
(Really sorry for my english, it’s not my first language).
Beng depressed isn’t your fault any more than having appendicitis would be your fault. It’s a shame the cure isn’t as straightforward.
I don’t know how much the therapy I had cost because I live in a country that has a public health care system. My antidepressants cost about a dollar per pill, and I took one every day. They were worth at least a hundred times that much to me. I doubt I could have recovered without them.
My reasoning is that I have been worn down to nothing from decades of chronic pain and the resultant mental illness, whereas they are relatively normal. Not that I want to end it, but from a zero-sums viewpoint they are much better equipped to handle the acute trauma of my loss than I am to handle the unending, immensely complicated pain I feel with every heartbeat.
I feel that way right now. Like everyone would be better off without me.
This is why I can’t wait to go off to college. I’ll be removing myself from everybody’s lives, without the actual emotional burden I’ll be putting on them.