If a loved one suffers from depression

If the one we love, our loved one suffers from depression, we ask ourselves: what can be done for him?

First of all, we can help him recognize the symptoms of the disease (insomnia, irritability, withdrawal, depression, unreasonable tears), take them seriously and seek treatment. We can offer to accompany him during his visit to the doctor.

At the same time, it is necessary to pay attention to our own state: are we strong enough in spirit to help another? Often depression also affects those who are in the immediate environment of the patient. Taking on too many obligations, we run the risk of becoming discouraged, and then we certainly will not help our loved one. And vice versa: taking care of ourselves, we do not show selfishness at all, but we maintain strength in order to continue to love him and sympathize with him.

It is also important to avoid the mistakes that those who are new to the diagnosis of depression make. Often they try to encourage a person, but only hurt him more.

How to behave? Here is what the English writer Matt Haig, who himself has experienced depression, advises.

How to be around a depressed person

1. Know he needs you, even if it doesn’t seem like it.

2. Listen.

3. Never say “pull yourself together” or “cheer up” unless you are going to give a detailed briefing.

4. Remember: depression is a disease. The patient may say things that he does not really mean.

5. Try to put yourself in the place of a loved one. What seems easy to you (like going to the grocery store) can be overwhelming for a depressed person.

6. Don’t take depression personally, treat it like the flu, chronic fatigue syndrome, or arthritis. This is not your fault.

7. Be patient. It won’t be easy. And stable too. There will be ups and downs. Do not take someone’s good/bad deed as evidence of recovery/deterioration. Get ready for a long journey.

8. Ask how you can help. But the main thing you can do is just be there.

9. Relieve life/work pressure if possible.

10. Try to make sure that the depressed person does not feel even more “weird” than now. Three days on the couch? Cried while making a difficult decision about which pair of socks to wear? Not scary. There are no normal standards. The concept of norm is subjective. There are seven billion variations of normal on this planet.

“They don’t understand that you have a nuclear explosion inside you”

At 24, writer Matt Haig nearly committed suicide. It was very hard for him, despite the fact that he had a loving girlfriend and caring parents. He tried many ways to cope with pain, fear, and loneliness, including pills, food, alcohol, science, and sexual fantasies. In the end, he found his own “reasons to stay alive” and wrote a book about it (in the original it is called: Reasons to Stay Alive).

We cite one chapter (“Head in the Window”) from his story, which shows what difficulties a person suffering from depression has to overcome in relationships, even with the closest people. Necessary explanations: Andrea is the name of his girlfriend. Together they visit Matt’s parents, in the house where he spent his childhood.

I was in my parents’ bedroom. One. Andrea seemed to be downstairs. I stood at the window, leaning against the glass. This time the anxiety got rid of its presence. It was October. The saddest month ever. The street where my parents’ house stood led to the city center, and several people were walking along it. Some of them I have known since childhood, which officially ended just six years ago. Though it may still be going on.

When you feel bad, you mistakenly believe that no one has ever been as hard as you. I dreamed of being one of those walking people. Anyone. An old man, a child, a woman, a man and even a dog. I really wanted to exist in their minds. I could no longer endure the endless self-torture. It’s like holding your hand on a red-hot stove for a long time, seeing buckets of ice around you. Exhausted by the fact that I could not find peace of mind in any way, and any positive thought came to a dead end from the very beginning, I began to cry.

I have never been one of those men who are afraid of tears. After all, I became emo before they even came into fashion. However, it is strange that when I was depressed, I did not cry often, despite the fact that the depression was very strong. I think the surreal nature of what I felt is to blame. Tears were like a means of language, then too far from me, as if he were somewhere far beyond the tears. Tears are shed in suffering, but when you are already in hell, it is too late to cry. There, tears evaporate before they have time to arise.

But now I was crying, but these were not ordinary tears that form behind the eyeballs. Those tears seemed to be coming out of my stomach, which was shaking so hard it was like a dam had burst. I couldn’t stop crying even when my father entered the room. He looked at me, but did not understand what was happening, despite the fact that the sight of a sobbing man was familiar to him: my mother suffered from postpartum depression. My father came up, looked at me and became infected with my tears: his eyes became red and wet. I don’t remember the last time I saw him cry. My father silently embraced me, and I felt his love.

At that moment, I tried to absorb as much love as possible, because I needed it.

“Forgive me,” I said.

“Stop it,” my father said softly. – You can do it. Stop doing that. You can pull yourself together, Matty. You will have to do it.

My father was never strict. Being gentle, caring and intelligent, even he didn’t have the magical ability to see what was going on in my head.

My father was right, of course, and I wouldn’t want him to say anything else, but he had no idea how cruel his words seemed to me at the time.

Pull yourself together.

No one is able to do it. Outsiders see your physical form, a single mass of atoms and cells. However, they do not understand that a nuclear explosion has occurred inside you. You feel lost and scattered throughout the endless darkness of the universe.

– I’ll try, dad. I’ll try.

He wanted to hear those exact words, so I said them. Then I continued to look at the ghosts from my childhood again.