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I have suffered from depression and pretty severe anxiety for a while now, and while now I say with full honesty that I am able to appreciate both the melancholy and the utter beauty of life, there were periods in which, although I didn't understand it at the time, I was unable to view the world without an air of despair. I saw everything through a layer of self-pity and in the worst possible light and I truly couldn't help it. No matter how many positive sayings or talks I had with others, I never seemed to shake the gloom cloud that fogged my glasses. But rest assured, mental illness does not last forever. There will be times where you will look at the universe you are in and fall silent in utter appreciation for it. There will be times that you will smile long enough and truly enough to burst out of your own body and into the molecules shifting through the empty spaces. And you will be able to get words down onto pages, and let your emotions spill out of your mind and onto a paper and maybe you will read them silently to yourself or maybe you will share them with others but nonetheless a writing block does not last forever, and mental illness does not have to cage you inside of one. Let it pour out of you and try to have patience with yourself because your mind and body are fighting for their lives as hard as they possibly can. It will take time. Have faith.

God bless you!

Thank you so much for this post. I have struggled often with depression because of jobs that I never found fulfilling, relationships that never led anywhere, and many other disappointments that I won't catalog here. And sometimes in the midst of the depression I feel a chaos, a madness fill my mind in a way that I can never seem to explain to anyone and that does not leave me alone despite distractions and even conversations with good friends, as you mention. I have discovered just recently how important a role writing can play in releasing those feelings. Somehow I can write all the things I cannot seem to say, and writing them allows me to sort through the madness, to get a better understanding of what is truly troubling me, and even though the process does not immediately quiet all the turmoil, it allows me to feel human again. When I write, whether it be personal reflections or fictional stories, I feel that I belong somewhere. I no longer feel that I am on the outside.

Thank you for sharing.

lovelyreader21 wrote:There will be times where you will look at the universe you are in and fall silent in utter appreciation for it. There will be times that you will smile long enough and truly enough to burst out of your own body and into the molecules shifting through the empty spaces.

I suffered from deep depression several years ago and it changed me completely. You are never the same person afterwards and it's not something that you really "recover" from. It's always there in the back of your mind, eating away at good thoughts and bringing you down. It annoys me when people don't take depression seriously because they can never understand until they experience it: the deepest, darkest sadness that you can ever feel. And it's constant and it hurts and it just makes you want to escape it by any means necessary. It's like walking around blind with nothing to grab onto and it's terrifying and only deepens the depression. Nothing has any substance anymore -- everything becomes obscure and dull. The only thing that you know to exist is your own sadness and emptiness and all sense of futurity seems to disappear. I'm not a good enough writer to describe it adequately, but constantly being under your very own personal storm is the best I can do. It affects nobody else so the damage it inflicts on you is incomprehensible.

But that's the negative part. I quoted the section because it made me almost jump off my bed with happiness because it's so true. The darkest bits are only so dark when compared with the brightest and those moments are so bloody wonderful. They engulf your whole body and suddenly everything is palpable and warm and clear and you can barely contain your happiness. It's magical! Thank you so much for this post. Nobody I know ever understands, but it's so nice to see a reflection for a change!

I'm so glad, ryanj1, that I helped a bit. I get what you mean, and I think you described it with absolute clarity. But my hope when I wrote this was that someone would relate and maybe be lifted up a bit, and I am so glad I made you smile a bit. Dark periods only become darker if you compare them to good times and sometimes you just need to accept them all together. The moments of such happiness are the most incredible feelings.

-- 01 Nov 2014, 18:12 --

Inkuisitive wrote: When I write, whether it be personal reflections or fictional stories, I feel that I belong somewhere. I no longer feel that I am on the outside.

Beautifully and wonderfully put. Writing has the power to kind of transport us into places we thought unreachable and I can't ever word it as eloquently and accurately as you just did. Writing is certainly not a "cure", per se, for depression, but it is a form of expression and frankly, I have never felt quite so at home, and as you said, as though I belong somewhere, as when I am writing. Thank you for sharing your thoughts. X

lovelyreader21 wrote:Writing is certainly not a "cure", per se, for depression, but it is a form of expression...

I think this is the important thing. One of the greatest ills of depression is that it makes us feel isolated, alone--and unexpressed. When I am depressed, there is a part of me that desperately wants to communicate, to hear that my feelings are valid, to believe that I have not wandered into a darkness from which I can never return. And often, when I try to communicate any of this in person, words fail and I find myself forced to swallow all that sorrow and keep it locked deep inside. Writing allows me to release a measure of that pain.

Inkuisitive wrote:

lovelyreader21 wrote:Writing is certainly not a "cure", per se, for depression, but it is a form of expression...

When I am depressed, there is a part of me that desperately wants to communicate, to hear that my feelings are valid, to believe that I have not wandered into a darkness from which I can never return.

It's the same for me. I want to show how I feel, but saying things in person scares the living daylights out of me. My words get all crumbly and I fidget and jump from subject to unrelated subject. Getting things on paper, getting them down there, true and real and solid, makes me feel like someone can hear. Just sorting out what I feel and getting it out of me can make it feel so much more manageable and clear. It doesn't solve all my problems but for just a little while it allows me to feel as though I am truly heard and loved; I belong to something.

I believe I understand what you mean very well. Thanks for sharing.

I know the feel all too well! Writing is one of the best treatments I have found! Of course it's not a cure like has been said, but sometimes I do feel like getting the words out is kind of symbolic for getting out the frustration that comes along with feeling trapped in my own head. Thanks for sharing your feelings with us!

Thank you so much for sharing this! While I do not suffer from depression, I do have ADHD and Dyslexia so I learned many things slower than the others. I was often bullied by my peers and teachers, the latter of which, often scolded me and insulted me because I just couldn't understand. At that time, I didn't know that I had ADHD or Dyslexia so I really struggled with being thought of as stupid by the teachers who were meant to guide me and the friends who were meant to support me. It also wasn't really recognised where I grew up at the time and the teachers just kept saying that I wasn't trying hard enough and that I was being lazy. It didn't do well for my self-esteem to be reprimanded in front of my classmates like that either. Writing became my outlet. When I was diagnosed, everyone seemed to take on a caring tone and it irritated me because for so long, I was trying so hard for so long and they didn't believe me but when I was revealed to have ADHD and Dyslexia, it was like a switch and they believed me. I cut off all ties with them and moved on from it. Now, I've grown up, I have better friends and lecturers who are completely supportive and I'm still writing.

It is true that writing is NOT therapy but can be therapeutic. Some authors even see struggles with depression as necessary:

You have to sink way down to a level of hopelessness and desperation to find the book that you can write.

Susan Sontag

Throughout my struggle with bipolar disorder I have discovered that writing put my fears, my loneliness, my isolation and my inability to find 'reason' on the page where it can be examined and brought into perspective. My greatest problem is that the medications used to control Bipolar Disorder (anti-depressants, mood stabilizers etc) have the unfortunate side effect of making it impossible for me to create and, for me, that makes life intolerable. I have been lucky to have had a psychiatrist who was able to ween me off the medication and still control the destructive effects of this disorder. However, I do not recommend that you stop any necessary treatment without the support of a health professional. What I do suggest, should medication stand in the way of your creativity or your ability to enjoy life is to get a second or even a third opinion on what medication is absolutely necessary for you.

Thank you for this interesting thread.

I, too, have suffered from depression off and on since I was ten years old. I don't have much to add to this thread, as I echo the sentiments of everyone else, but I am so appreciative of everyone here for the courage to speak up about this topic. It is good to know that I am not alone. Right now, I am coming out of another dark spot in my life, and I am again able to see how beautiful life really is. Writing and reading have helped immensely, along with prayer and staying away from junk food.

SharisseEM, I'm sorry for what you had to go through. I, too, went through public school with undiagnosed disorders, namely Asperger's Syndrome and Dyscalculia (kind of like dyslexia but for numbers). Teachers were sometimes the worst, but it all happens for a reason. I just got a job as a tutor at my son's school, and I am delighted at being able to help students who struggled just like I did.

SharisseEM wrote:Now, I've grown up, I have better friends and lecturers who are completely supportive and I'm still writing.

I'm glad to hear that . While I can't quite understand what you've been through, my younger sister suffers from ADHD, as well as a few other issues, and I've seen quite first-hand the effects it can have on people. It's awful that you had to go through that-they shouldn't have treated you in such a horrible way. It's wonderful that you've found people who support you. Your intelligence isn't measured by how well you comprehend certain information. I'm glad you feel comfortable enough to share your story with us, thank you.

I want to keep this thread alive because it speaks to me so deeply. Thank you everyone for commenting.

Hey, I'm glad we're talking about this. I'm a paranoid schizophrenic. I never get depressed--well, I'm pretty doped up most of the time. I write because I want people to understand me, although my characters are pretty darned well-adjusted and my books are lighthearted and deep at the same time. The truth is, I don't think anyone does understand. I'd be a Debbie Downer to elaborate.

I will say, though, that I was able to go off of my main antipsychotic in late 2012. And after that, a whole new world opened to me, because I realized that it had been stifling my creativity for 6+ years without my even being aware of it. (Not that I could've gone off of it sooner--Evil Spirits and all.) But then I started getting interested in things again, including writing. I'd never been a writer before, just a reader. But I just started writing a story and found out I could.

The stigma needs to disappear. We're not all violent, and we're not all dangerous. We are rather odd. Who isn't?