Depression is a subject that I am usually extremely uncomfortable talking about as it is something that stems from deep scars and past memories.
Depression is something that is thought of as overly dramatic and extremely easy to spot. Many people believe that people with depression are often dreary, always talking about how everything is going wrong, and don’t take care of themselves.
While this may be true for some people, many others, including myself, are well versed in the art of hiding one’s depression.
For those who know me, I am often quite bubbly, upbeat, and a rather bright and talkative person, pretty much the opposite of what people think of depression. However, more often than not, I deal with depression which does make it extremely difficult for me to function daily. Simple tasks such as waking up, getting dressed, and even just eating are things that I have to force myself to do more often than not.
Paying attention in my classes, completing homework, and taking exams are tasks that often exhaust me. Hobbies such as playing music, applying makeup, even watching and making youtube videos often feel forced.
I mentioned before that my depression comes from past memories and scars which are experiences and events from my childhood.
There are two main events that my depression stemmed from.
The first of these events involves my issue with self-worth and esteem.
The people responsible were the people from the church that I used to attend. What I would get picked on was the fact that I was academically more advanced compared to the other children that were in the same grade as me. What they would often tell me is that I was extremely annoying because I was talking about sciences while the other kids were talking about the newest Pokemon card deck that they got their parents to buy for them. I would often talk about the newest book that I borrowed from the library while the other kids would talk about the newest video game that they saved up for.
The adults, excluding the elders, were no better than their children as they would often make threats towards me or make condescending statements or jokes about how I was dressed or what I was reading. One incident that I clearly remember was the during my very first mission trip to Taiwan where a group of people from the church were visiting an orphanage. The way that the whole trip was organized was that certain people would be assigned tasks to complete such as cooking or repainting the walls. As much as I was eager to help, I was not assigned a task and when I was approached by the leaders of the mission group on why I was not doing anything, I told them that I was not assigned a task. After hearing this they threatened to kick me out of the group and leave me to figure my own way back to the hotel that we were staying at. I was told that I was rather useless and that it was a mistake to have brought me along to the trip.
The second event was in regards to my self-image and weight problem.
This is a far shorter story as it was an event that was simple and straight to the point.
I was 9 years of age and was attending a program that my violin professor at the time had forced me to join. Being the only male attending the classes, I was often picked on and made fun of just for simply being a guy.
This one occurrence was the trigger to my breaking point.
On one particular day, one of the girls decided to show off the fact that she was capable of performing a split which was rather impressive to someone who was rather stiff at the time.
I commented that I was unable to perform the splits simply because I had never had any formal dance training. The girl made a very simple statement: “You can’t do the splits because you’re too fat.”
This was the line that broke me and caused my downward spiral towards anorexia and bulimia, which to this day I have to fight against.