A Gift?

I think depression can be a gift, because it strips away all of the fake and shallow everyday routines and exposes the truth. Not everyone can handle the truth. It is dark, lonely, and painful, but it is all there is. I have always been aware that many people do not critically think their life through. I also knew that I never settled for habitual, meaningless actions, which is strange because I struggle so much with change. I don’t think I realized how few of people actually live thought-out, purposeful lives until I discovered my need for meaning in my actions recently. I am experiencing an existential crisis, because everything I believed in has failed me. I used to believe that people were such amazing creatures. My therapist says I “put people on pedestals.” I always have, and I still do to some degree, although the depression has definitely brought out a pessimism that makes it hard for me to hold people so high. I have done that with pretty much anyone older than me whether they are worthy of it or not, parents, family, friends, and boyfriends (that is why my relationships never work, because we are all flawed humans and I have a hard time accepting boyfriend’s flaws as well as revealing my own). With this newfound pessimism I am starting to realize that maybe everyone is not that much more qualified than I am to assert opinions. It is heartbreaking, because I feel like there is less to strive for, but exciting, because I am beginning to realize I have valid opinions on a lot of things too. Age is getting to be less significant the more I learn. I have always admired humility, and I still think it is a sign of maturity, but I realized I was trying too hard to be humble. I am human and I feel slighted sometimes, I feel deserving sometimes, and I get jealous. Those are all immature emotions, but I don’t think many people outgrow them. Realizing that I will never know it all, I will always be confused about a lot of things seems very depressing.

If I asked people “What is the meaning in your life?” The only legit reason I would get is for other people. I think as humans we really only live for each other. People might say they live for their spouse, their kids, their family, their friends. Does anyone ever really want to live just to live? I mean, there are some advantages to life, considering it is all I know and not everything is bad. Is there really anything bad about not existing, though? Everyone is so afraid of the thought that they fantasize about the afterlife. There are honestly people who think that as a human race we do not need to worry about things like global warming or war, because God will save us all in the afterlife, and this life doesn’t matter. That is a terrible way to think, because this life is all we are given that we know of. Living in the moment is essential, but so few people do. I have such a hard time just existing with depression. Coming to the realization that there is not meaning in most anything I do makes it hard to keep going. I have been learning so much from constant questioning. Questions like, “Why am I going up these stairs? Am I really going to do anything important when I get to the top?” takes me to a whole new level of thinking that many people are afraid to face.

I can’t stop thinking of this famous short story I read a month or so ago, “Bartlby the Scrivener,” where Bartlby stops working and doesn’t do anything that he doesn’t feel like. He answers “I prefer not to,” to everything without offering explanation. The story ends ambiguously after Bartlby’s death when the narrator reveals that he heard Bartlby used to work at the dead letter office and he quotes, “Ah Bartlby! Ah humanity!” The ending has been interpreted in many different ways, but many believe that the epiphany the narrator experiences is his realization of the insignificance of everyone’s individual actions. My professor interpreted it to mean that the author was saying that as humans our actions are insignificant. He explained it like this: Bartlby used to work in a place where letters were stuck. People actually took time to send out a letter and they never knew that it did not reach the person. Do we ever know if our “letters” reach the “person?” Are we blinded by our intentions that are overshadowed by results or lack there of? Many people cannot handle thinking about why they do what they do. Why do you wake up and go to work everyday? Why do you go to church every Sunday? Why do you smile when you are not happy? Why do you laugh when something isn’t funny? Why do you talk when people aren’t listening? Why don’t you listen like you should? The list goes on. If everyone thought their actions through so thoroughly, then I think the world would be a better place and everyone would appreciate life in the moment, instead of waiting for something great to happen to them, and then realizing on their deathbed they didn’t do anything. I would rather have my breakdown now, than a midlife crisis, or depression on my deathbed. I think this type of critical thinking and self-evaluation is a skill that will not just vanish even when I feel happy. Depression changes you forever. As awful and hard as it is, it really can be a gift. My fairy tale world has been shattered, but the reality I am finding is forcing me to mature in a way I could never have imagined. What kind of world is it when age is just a number and depression is a gift? I call it a real one.