TW: Depression, Anxiety, Suicidal Ideation/feeling


Today, I lectured my classes on Albert Camus’ The Myth of Sisyphus. So, naturally the question of suicide and depression reformulated itself in my head. Fair enough, my research and theoretical work as of recently has been turned towards moods and mood disorders. Probably will be for some time.

I cannot remember a time in my life in which I didn’t suffer from extreme anxiety or depressive moods. I cannot. This is who I am. Growing up, I had an internalized streak of anxiety that bent me towards staying absolutely within the confines of rules. The rules I was given were fundamental to life and I couldn’t waiver from them. There were times at a young age in which I scolded my mother for speaking to strangers, since I didn’t understand that those rules only applied to myself and my brother, not to her. Anxiety warped itself and demanded that I adhere to rules to the point that I made myself a pain upon others. I policed my brother’s play habits to ensure that legos did not mix with k’nex, and so on.

Anxiety and depression warped to the point where I spent much of my adolescence thinking about my death. My anxiety manifested in nausea when I was in middle school, to the point that I stayed home from school for two weeks. This time was in fear of who I was becoming, and fear that I would not become. I feared I would not live beyond high school. I feared that I would be the direct cause of this mortality.

Ten years ago, in the summer of 2005 at the age of 16, I considered suicide. Considered, never attempted. There is a strange internalized stigma here. Where other depressives and mental illness advocates narrate suicide attempts as a turning point, I never tried for anything. When talking with people who have attempted to kill themselves, I have an inadequate feeling. I experience impostor syndrome because I never acted.

I feel cowardly over not making what in retrospect would have been a cowardly move. 

This is absurd.

I backed away from any attempt, but I spent 2005 obsessed with methods. I shook myself out of it. But still, I find myself inadequate and an impostor among others due to public romantic feelings that depression isn’t real unless one attempts to kill oneself, as if questioning it weren’t bad enough to warrant concern. This is internalized stigma.

I had, for what it’s worth, some spiritual experience that I’ll never make sense of again that prevented me from attempting. This experience happened twice. Once to shake off the notion that a necktie could support my body weight in July, the second on a long secluded ocean pier where I decided that drowning was too terrifying a concept.

I had forgotten that I had told my family and friends about the latter experience, chalking it up to some transcendental experience. I never told anyone in my family what that summer really meant. I instead twisted the narrative to something they could understand, something that ameliorated myself and warmed their hearts. I found hope, but I never divulged the depth at which I had fallen to find that hope, staring at stars and thinking over the direction of my life.

I don’t know what exactly broke the spell for me, but frankly rereading Camus after putting distance between myself and that summer allows for me to realize that it doesn’t matter. I’ve embraced the absurd and am holding out.



Losing Friends to Depression: an ambivalent necessity

Mental illness is a community of strangers. Those suffering from major depressive disorders constantly feel alienated in social situations and relationships. Depression makes friendships hard to come by and inevitably strained. It can be hard to maintain a lasting and consistent connection with others when one’s own mind prefers solitude or fears betrayal or loss. Oftentimes the fear of rejection or inadequacy blocks a depressive person to reach out to others who they would like to get to know better. Other times, having recurring patterns of depression and seclusion is too hard to understand or too much of a hassle for neurotypical friends to feel like keeping in touch. Friends then become all the more important for those suffering from mental illness. Depression sets its sufferer alienated from others and having a close ally and confidant can make all the difference. However, just because someone with a mental illness has trouble maintaining friendships due to their changing moods does not mean that they have to hold on to every friend who comes their way. Unfortunately, depressive individuals can easily find themselves within a toxic friendship. Sadly, suffering from major depression and feeling worthless means that one can get too carried away with the attention and not notice the damage the other does to them.

Recently there has been an influx of articles on the importance for self-care. Clearly having close friends is just as important for the maintenance and care for one’s well-being. But having toxic friends who further stigmatize your mental illness cannot be self-care, but instead are a form of self-harm. The pattern of harm when remaining in stigmatizing friendships mirrors those in other forms of abusive relationships. What is too often forgotten is that emotional abuse is just as harmful if not more harmful than physical abuse.

My argument is that friendships that foster emotional abuse must end. When depressed, it is too easy to believe the blame is upon oneself and oneself alone. This is hardly the case.

What is hard is that oftentimes a harmful or toxic friend only means the best intentions towards their friends, but nevertheless repeat the same patterns of abuse. The following are questions to consider if a depression-sufferer is worried that their friends and allies are actually doing them more stigmatizing harm than good:

  1. Are you anxious whenever you make plans with this friend?

Making plans with a good friend should not be the cause of stress. Repeatedly feeling the pang of an oncoming anxiety attack when thinking about spending time with someone betrays that your relationship with them is strained and troubled.

  1. Do you feel like this friend has a hard time listening to you or being careful/aware of you triggers?

A good friend should be responsive. Good intentions mean nothing if one is not paying the proper attention to your concerns.

  1. Does this friend mention how much they have sacrificed for you? Do they ever seem satisfied with what they think they get in return from you?

This sort of rhetoric converts a friendship into an economy of give and take. The insistence upon reminding the other of actions done “out of love” are not actually love, but a transaction. Introducing the concept of debt into a friendship is an immediate cause for concern and emotional blackmail.

  1. Does your friend police your feelings, suggesting that your feelings are “wrong”?

This is a form of gaslighting, turning your mood disorder against you and claiming that you are incapable of having rational reactions to anything. Feelings are never “wrong” and you should never be made to feel inadequate due to your gut reaction to events.

  1. Does your friend treat others with mood disorders with any respect?

Someone with double-standards when it comes to ableism and refers to others’ disabilities as “crazy”, “overdramatic”, or “difficult” cannot be trusted. Someone who makes fun of a mutual friend for having a panic attack is not likely to be empathetic to your own.

Ultimately, depression and other mood disorders demonstrate a need for a higher quality friend. But at no point should someone with a mood disorder feel that they are too discerning when it comes to finding someone to trust. Frankly, expecting high standards from others is a necessity for survival. Disassociating from toxic friendships is hard. There is always the trap of falling straight back into these harmful patterns, but it is much better for yourself to cut ties when possible to those who hurt you, even if they claim they are doing what is best for you. It is not up to the depressive to change their condition; it is up to the ally to better oneself in dealing with one’s friend.

What I am calling for in this piece is for someone in such an emotionally abusive relationship to step up and resist stigma. This may come in many forms: either a direct confrontation, or a passive disassociation ignoring invitations to go out or other messages from the abusive friend. While the former may seem to have more closure and dignity, I think the latter approach can be just as vital. An abusive friend may beg for forgiveness without feeling real remorse or change. I have found that there are many ways that an abuser can talk about forgiveness, and that all of them are wrong; it is only up to the person who is harmed to discuss forgiveness. If you feel that your friend has continually put you down and made you feel worse, there is little to forgive in this person.

For those suffering depression, having a stigmatizing friend is worse than having no close friends at all. It is a hard process to find friends who are actually supportive of fluctuating mood disorders, but it makes all the difference.