I’m going to do something fairly unusual for me tonight and piggyback on other people’s content. But when I saw this article, I immediately knew I had to riff off it.

The article in question is entitled “30 Things People Don’t Realize You’re Doing Because of Your Depression” and it’s from the fairly amazing website The Mighty, which seems to be a blog for giving people dealing with various disabilities, like autism or mental illness, a very positive message of hope and empowerment and validation.

As is the case with a lot of Internet articles, it’s also “borrowed” content, because it’s just a compilation of answers to a certain Reddit question.

The Internet is so cannibalistic!

Anyhow, here are my responses to some of the answers that resonated with me :

1. “In social situations, some people don’t realize I withdraw or don’t speak much because of depression. Instead, they think I’m being rude or purposefully antisocial.” — Laura B.

I have run into this in my life. Not as much as a lot of depressives, because I don’t find myself tongue tied or afraid to speak as often as some people. I have never been shy in that way. If anything, I go a little too far in the other direction. I feel compelled to participate in conversations by my enormous need for connection… and attention, of course. I am not sure I am capable of just sitting back and letting other people do the talking. I can listen to someone, but it’s active listening, where I say little things to reassure the person that I am picking up what they are putting down.

Purely passive listening would be very difficult for me. It just wouldn’t be stimulating enough. My mind would automatically try to tune it out.

Anyhow, despite this, I have had people mistake my shyness for aloofness or a sense of superiority. I suppose that’s the only explanation that makes sense to an extrovert, or a very over-sensitive introvert who thinks everything is always about them.

But that’s bullshit, of course. I have distilled that down into a mantra that I have been using to quell my fears lately : “Nobody is watching. Nobody cares. ”

And it’s true.

“I struggle to get out of bed, sometimes for hours. Then just the thought of taking a shower is exhausting. If I manage to do that, I am ready for a nap. People don’t understand, but anxiety and depression is exhausting, much like an actual physical fight with a professional boxer.” — Juli J.

And how. It’s hard to convey the sheer power drain of depression to someone who has never experienced it. I guess the closest comparison is to the kind of exhaustion you get from having a really harsh flu.

Except that results in you fighting off the infection. Depressive exhaustion doesn’t result in anything but more exhaustion.

But you look perfectly healthy. You don’t act crazy. Depression is one of the most invisible of invisible illnesses. There is nothing you can point to that would seem like evidence of illness to the average person. No rash, no wheelchair, no oxygen tent.

So it is easy for an average person to conclude that we are simply lazy. Or too into ourselves. Or some other normalcy-level thing.

They are not malicious. They simply lack understanding.

8. “I don’t like talking on the phone. I prefer to text. Less pressure there. Also being anti-social. Not because I don’t like being around people, but because I’m pretty sure everyone can’t stand me.” — Meghan B.

Same here. I don’t like talking on the phone. Text is more my speed. Part of my depression slash social anxiety is being incredible sensitive to social stimuli. Phone calls are too realtime, too stimulating, too real. Text is safely virtualized and hence almost completely a product of imagination.

And I feel safe in my imagination.

After all, I grew up there.

13. “Answering slowly. It makes my brain run slower, and I can’t think of the answers to the questions as quickly. Especially when someone is asking what I want to do – I don’t really want anything. I isolate myself so I don’t have to be forced into a situation where I have to respond because it’s exhausting.” — Erin W.

I have been there. I’m still there, in fact, but to a far lesser extent than before. With me, it’s complicated, because in some ways I am very quick-witted and can answer questions rapidly and with confidence.

But in other ways – especially with questions like “what do you want?” – I am completely thrown off track and it takes me a while to come up with an answer.

To me, it seems like healthy people carry a list of things they want in their head at all times. Either that, or they just don’t think about their answers much.

16. “Not keeping in touch with anyone, bad personal hygiene and extremely bad reactions to seemingly trivial things.” — Jenny B.

Yes to the first two things. I am terrible at keeping in touch with people. It’s not that I don’t care. It’s that I have trouble imagining anyone actually wanting to hear from me. I always feel like people would respond to my reaching out by thinking “Oh god, not this loser again. I’d just managed to forget all about him. Now I have to deal with him again. I wish he would just fuck off permanently. ”

It’s a crazy thing to think. And I am crazy.

As for the bad personal hygiene, it’s a daily struggle. Something as simple as taking a shower can seem like a trip through the jungles of Borneo to me sometimes. It;s such a large increase in stimulation levels and such a departure from my tiny comfort zone of bum in seat in front of the computer. It can really loom large, and dark.

Self-care is one of the first casualties of depression. Because it’s hard to take care of yourself when you don’t care about yourself.

In fact, you hate yourself.

30. “Keeping the house dark is a comfort thing for me. People always point it out, like, ‘No wonder you’re so depressed. You need to let some light in.’ Darkness in my living space makes me feel comfortable, almost like I’m not alone. Good days, I’m all about the sunshine!” — Michelle T.

I can sympathize. A relative of mine used to sit in a dark house all alone when a glass of whiskey in his hand due to his depression. It is all about reducing your stimulus level as an unconscious attempt to control the anxiety stimulus provokes.

It’s like always being a pot that is almost boiling over. Anything that raises the temperature must be suppressed. And nothing can be let in, either.

I sometimes think that the residents of the House of Usher were depressives.

Well, those are my thoughts for the night.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow!