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Grief. Loss. Pain. Depression. It all really really sucks, and it all really really hurts. I've been thinking a lot lately how I feel guilty for being so broken and sad and depressed over a breakup. I mean, when it comes down to it it's just a breakup right? Big deal, who cares, you'll heal, move on and forget about it. At least that's what you think everyone is thinking. The first month or couple months sure, cry, weep, eat ice cream and chocolate and talk to your friends because you need someone there. But eventually, people move on from your grief, and they expect you to too. You love your friends and you know they love you, but you eventually get tired of being the sad one, the needy one, the lonely one, the damaged one, and the broken one. So you stop. Or at least you stop showing it. It's like we feel ashamed of our emotional state because we feel like we should be over it by now; that enough time has passed and that we aren't supposed to feel this way any more, so we stop asking for help. We stop reaching out and we stop being honest about how we really are. But the truth is, no matter why or what the reason is, we are all entitled to feel the way we feel. We so often hide where we're at from those that care about us, whether it be out of guilt or shame or whatever that feeling is that makes us feel like we aren't worthy of the sadness any more, when really, I think it's the hiding that causes more damage than the actual guilt of being sad when we think we shouldn't be any more. True, people may get sick about hearing about your heartache, and honestly, I personally get sick of it coming out of my mouth. But the minute we decide to bury our suffering and struggle is the minute we give up on ourselves, at least a little. It's like we let it all bury and bubble under the surface. We push it away because we don't want to deal with it any more and we don't want anyone else to have to either. It's like we start holding our breath; waiting for a moment where we can finally breathe and release it all. It's a horrible feeling. Because the more you bury and deny the more fucked up you get, seriously. You stop processing, you stop healing, you stop confronting and you just shut down in order to function, but you aren't really you, you're half (if even that) you. You become almost zombie like, just going through the motions and the routine of your life. You enjoy company but don't feel like yourself, like you're guarded but don't know why. At least with me I act a lot more 'okay' than I actually am. When in reality I'm not falling asleep until 4 in the morning, sleeping all afternoon, not going to class and not taking care of myself. Appearances are easy to maintain, going out with friends, going to work, putting on a smile, having some drinks, dancing, whatever. But it's still there, the knot of all the buried shit that is still going to be there after your nights or days of distraction wear off and you're still stuck in the same place you were before: depressed, grieving, sad, and lonely.
So why, if so many people (and surprisingly a lot of people we know) are dealing with depression and anxiety and all of this shit, do so many people, myself included, hide it. We all know that it's there, we all know it's a very common and prominent issue that a lot of us are struggling to deal with, yet we all bury it under the covers and pretend that we're all okay, when really, if we all just swallowed our pride once in awhile and admitted that no, we aren't fine, we aren't okay, we want company and we want sympathy, then I think we would all be a lot better off, a lot healthier, and a lot happier.