Lately, I’ve been reflecting a lot on my own mental health and how others perceive me.
The two go hand in hand, but not in the way you might think. I’m not particularly affected by how others perceive me; I’m known to be the odd man out. I’m loud, outspoken, and pretty comfortable with expressing my emotions and embracing how weird I am.
I’m also known to be laid-back, easygoing, and maybe even chill. Because of this, I’ve realized something: nobody knows how fucking depressed I am.
Like a lot of folks in my generation, I’ve been battling depression since I was able to form a coherent thought.
Being a teenager in the age of social media ruined my self-esteem, and being a young adult in the pandemic gave me overwhelming anxiety that I’m beginning to think may cause permanent brain damage. The thing is, I’m being super chill about it right now.
There’s this pretty stereotypical idea of what depression looks like: not showering, laying in bed, being too sad to leave or produce anything. Sure, that exists, I do plenty of that too. High-functioning depression manifests itself differently though.
It looks like overbooking your schedule to compensate for your inadequacy, and then crying until blood vessels pop at the end of the week.
Maybe it’s being overly funny in social situations, filling every quiet moment with noise and then going home and replaying it until you can’t stand it anymore.
It looks like being involved in every single thing you can find, collecting ribbons and cords to try and soothe the intense imposter syndrome that haunts you, or simply crying in the bathroom in between events because being out of your house feels like drowning.
To me, high-functioning depression feels like performing in a play except your audience doesn’t know you’re an actress. It’s complex, it’s confusing, and nobody knows if it’s happening to you.
I write about this because I recently realized that I’m not the only one.
I often look at my peers and feel jealous, feeling bitter that they get to exist and enjoy life without a constant dark cloud in their brains. It wasn’t until I began actually talking with some friends that I realized: some of the people around me were also crying in the bathroom. Just like they perceive me to be fine, I perceive them to be fine too.
But the truth is: we’re both miserable right now.
This goes to show that you often don’t know how someone truly feels. In my experience, my funny friends struggle the most. So, let’s be gentle, let’s check in with each other and maybe be a little nicer. Cheesy, I know. And if you read this and thought, “Holy crap, I feel that way too.”, just know that you aren’t alone. We’re in this together, it’s gonna be okay.
