Depression feels like a demoniac possession!!! Something sucks my energy, my motivation, my concentration, my ability to consider my options and take decisions.
From the outside, it appears like everything is fine with me while, in the inside, I pray for my deliverance. I pray for good reasons why I should wake up in the morning and go to work. And while I sit at my desk, I pray that people around me will not notice that I struggle to be able to accomplish my tasks, as expected of me.
But I am good at putting a face of someone who has it all under control. I do accomplish my tasks! So well that they are even convinced that I am smart and good at what I am doing! They are happy and they want me to come back, another day, another time, to do more of what they’ve been impressed by me doing. They don’t know that for me, a working day achieved is a miracle day! They don’t know that I’ve used all my energy, my strength, and my faith to go through that day.
They don’t know that when they gladly ask me to come tomorrow, I am scared of my tomorrow. Because tomorrow is another day and I am not sure if the same miracle working day will be accorded to me. I am afraid that God and the angels will forsake me and I will be laying in my bed, desperate and praying for the end of the world for me or for the whole world. Because, you see, like most depressive people, I can be very egoistic! So badly egoistic that it happens that I rather have the whole world collapsing if I can’t be part of that world and being among those who made it! Nothing for me, nothing for all! Fortunately, this prayer has never been answered. There has never been a global collapse, just a personal collapse. The collapse of my strength and my inner world. Here I am, laying in my bed, defeated!
But they’re waiting for me at work to do what they think I am good at doing. Plus, the society expects me to be productive! But, here I am, unable to brush my teeth! But this weakness, which is my reality, I can never tell them! I want them to keep seeing me in a way that gives me a little bit of glory and dignity. I cannot call them and tell them that I can’t come to work that morning because I am into a deep darkness. I am buried so deep down and that from where I am, I am unable to see any stairs or elevator that could bring me up; up to the light or up to a functional version of myself. No, I will never tell them this! This will be my secret for the day, for the weeks but hopefully not any longer.
I will keep this secret for myself because I am afraid they will never understand what I am going through and I don’t want to take any risk. So, I play it safe. I call them. I gather my strength and I use my non-depressive-sad-to-death voice. The voice that will reassure them. With that voice, I start to lie. A “white lie”. I tell them that I can’t come to work that morning because, eh, I have a stomach ache, the flu or any others “approved” diseases, but, nothing they could associate with mental illness. Oh no! A bad virus is always better that depression. A stomach ache will always beat a depression. In the popularity contest of sicknesses, I go for the winner. It works! And it makes me feel good. For a while. Because even if my lie keeps me away from being put on the list of the losers, I feel that I am one.
You see, “I have a terrible flu” will always be cooler than “I have a terrible depression” and the last one, not the former, is my current truth. While my co-workers are convinced that, pretty soon, I will come back to work because my official flu cannot keep me long in my sick bed, I pray. I ask God, Jesus and my angels for help! I pray for my deliverance from the demon that sucks my energy, my motivation, my concentration, my ability to consider my options and take decisions. Simply, I pray to be delivered from depression.
This is the confession of a depressed worker!
NB: This is how I felt until recently!
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