In A Depression Relapse?
February 22, 2019
I watched ‘Beautiful Boy‘ last night and it struck a strong chord with me – enough for me to write this post.
If you haven’t watched it yet, it’s based on a true story of a boy, Nic, whose addiction to all sorts of drugs, but particularly meth, threatens his life. Timotheé Chalamet (who plays Nic) is phenomenal as always and the relationship between him and Steve Carell (who plays his dad) is completely moving. I felt broken after finishing the film – especially knowing it was based on true events. I left the film feeling like somehow I could relate to a drug addict.
No, I don’t do drugs nor do I have a dependency on any substances. So, where is the correlation to depression? I found myself watching Nic struggle with the desire to relapse each time he had been sober for a significant period of time. The draw was too strong for him to resist yet, inevitably, he found himself wanting so badly to get clean again and begging for help in doing so. He was in agony and felt completely helpless. He accepted the fact that he was a let-down to those who loved him and had given up trying to win their acceptance back.
Slipping in and out of bad depression spouts seems very much like a relapse from an addiction – perhaps the addiction is happiness? A high in life that is so short lived that I inevitably slip back into a deep slump. I want so badly to be rid of depression but keep finding myself here time and time again. Each time life seems to be going well, I convince myself that it’s too good to be true and that something is about to turn my world upside down – as I deserve…
The pull is too strong and I struggle to resist it. Why do I keep finding myself here so frequently and why can I not seem to overcome it once and for all? Will I ever? There are so many people who struggle with serious mental health issues their whole lives and never find themselves back to a state of happiness. Am I one of them? I certainly hope not.
I can point to a few reasons why I’m unhappy and insecure, yet, I haven’t rid them from my life. Why? It’s as if I’m a glutton for punishment. I’m only able to muster up a few small changes at a time and yet the desire to be happy (whatever that means) is just as strong and seems far less attainable.
Currently, my dark place feels like a particularly lonely relapse. I feel more lost in this world than I ever have and my passions aren’t correlating to happiness like I had hoped they would. But… big BUT, I’m taking one day… no, one minute at a time. Each minute of each day feels wildly different. I’ve found myself getting more creative to hide my true feelings from others as a way of masking my pain without having to divulge my worries to those who have enough going on in their lives.
Focusing on keeping a more even-keeled lifestyle is a new goal of mine. The peaks and valleys are too volatile to live through.
Apologies for the ramble. Making this connection last night sent me into a frenzy and I’ve needed to put these thoughts down. Because, if someone who struggles with depression only just made this realization after almost a decade of pain, others surely might not have seen the correlation.