Relieve Depression By Accepting Responsibility

When I was severely depressed, I would sit in my room and think of every possible way I could block out the rest of the world. I had blackout curtains on the windows so no light could get in. My bedroom door was constantly closed. I never answered my cell phone. Most of the time, I didn’t even get dressed – I would shower and put on another pair of pajamas, deciding right then and there that I would not be going out that day. Eventually, my friends caught on and stopped inviting me anywhere.

I would sit and think how much I hated the sun – it was too hot, too bright, and it gave me sunburn because I am pale. I didn’t want to put on sunscreen and go outside anyway because the sunscreen made me feel greasy and the fact that I was fat pretty much guaranteed that I would be sweaty and pink the entire time. I hated the traffic where I lived and made every excuse not to drive anywhere. For three years I pretty much sat inside and hated everything.

And yet, I could not deny that, when I did go outside, I felt so much better. Because I could not hold a job or stay in college classes, I really only left the apartment for my once-a-week visit to my shrink appointment. I always dreaded it the morning of my appointment – I had to actually get dressed and go somewhere… But I always left the appointment feeling like a huge weight had been lifted from my chest, regardless of what we had talked about.

I eventually mentioned this to my counselor, and she told me that so many people suffering from depression do not realize the harm they do themselves by staying inside. I tried to make the excuse that being so horribly depressed makes a person just want to sit inside and not have to face the world. To have to put on a happy, or at least, normal face, is just more effort than it’s worth, frankly. Not to mention being a fat person in the tropical heat and humidity just added so many more layers of discomfort to the whole ordeal of leaving the house.

She acknowledged that, but she also told me that it was silly to keep trying something that was obviously not working. Whether or not it was easier to stay inside my comfort zone of my dark, cold bedroom, I had been lurking there for three years and only getting worse. She pointed out that the few times I actually left the apartment, I felt like my depression had somewhat receded – surely that couldn’t be a coincidence?

She gave me an assignment. I had to leave the house at least one time every day, and it did not matter why. I could go for a walk around the block, go to the grocery store, or just sit outside on the sidewalk for a few minutes and get some fresh air. At the time, I was so far gone that it was really difficult for me to do this. I didn’t get outside every day, but I did do it more often than I had been. I continued to have that temporary feeling of being relieved from depression whenever I got out, but it still wasn’t enough for me to be able to do it every single day.

While I couldn’t use it as a permanent solution because I was still massively depressed and, even when I could make myself venture outside, the relief was temporary and, most of the time, only partially effective, her assignment did teach me that there were things that I was doing (namely, hiding from everything) that not only were not helping but were actually holding me back. Until that point I had kind of used the isolation as a coping mechanism. The realization came slowly that depression relief would not just fall into my lap one day, as I had been hoping. I would actually have to take control. This was a terrifying realization in itself that could probably fill out an entire series of posts, but it was an important realization nonetheless.

Having the information that I needed to take control did not make it any easier to actually take control, but it did float around in the back of my mind for a while, and kept me focused on things that I should be doing, even if I wasn’t doing them. At the time, I had no idea what actions I could even take to help myself but at least I had the hope that I might recognize those decisions when they presented themselves.

Even though I came to the conclusion that I needed to be responsible for my own happiness when I was hopelessly depressed, this realization did not really begin to make a huge difference in my life until at least a couple of years later, months into my recovery. I began to recognize the things that I could do for myself on a regular basis that made me feel better. Maybe I didn’t feel better all or even most of the time, but I had a few things that I could do to lighten the load a little bit every now and then. It was even more amazing to me that I actually had the strength to do those things. Whereas before I had been utterly unable to even part the curtains and look outside, I could now get dressed and go out even when I felt horrible because I believed that doing so would help me feel less horrible for a while.

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