Depression Lies To You About You

2024 Author: Harry Day | [email protected]. Last modified: 2023-12-17 15:43

"I was depressed, as I understand now. It was difficult for me to wake up, it is difficult to fall asleep, it is difficult to think, it is difficult to move." that at night you gave up your ghost. And there is nothing to rejoice in except that you died a natural death, so that they will not be able to transplant your dead organs. " All my days have been like this, with an anchor on my feet and through the thick of mud.

Through this filth I tried to earn money as a freelance, went to therapy across the city twice a week. I tried to make ends meet. I didn't even have the strength to think about getting a permanent job. In addition, I was so disgusted with myself that I saw no point in offering myself as a worker. I had meager earnings, I rented an apartment, so there was some money, but it was still not enough. I owe my therapist. I wanted to leave therapy for a while in order to catch my breath and save money, but the therapist did not allow me to do this. I was obedient. The therapist allowed some time to go to her on debt. Of course, I had nothing to repay the debt with. I felt worthless, desperate, and unhappy. There was no money, no earnings were added, I simply could not do anything in order to actively look for new orders.

I didn't have the strength. None. And besides, a terrible feeling of guilt for everything was with me too. And the feeling of guilt for debts, and for the fact that I am so worthless, helpless, and I cannot really explain my feelings to the therapist. I could only cry. And I couldn't explain what I was crying about. The therapist did not understand me, or pretended not to understand. For this I was also to blame - for the fact that I could not clearly explain to her what was happening to me. And so, in the midst of all this nightmare, the therapist, being angry, probably, for my debts to her, said, “Don't you know how to count? Can't count your money and distribute it so that there is enough for everything important? " And she added, "Are you not testing reality at all?" It was terrible. My reality, the reality where I am nobody and nothing, stood before me in all its enormous growth. It was true - I couldn't earn enough for a normal life, I couldn't do anything at all. This was my reality. The most real of realities. This was my truth. The truest of all truths.

My main thought after the therapy was to go and hang myself with the therapist in the toilet. Or buy pills at the nearest pharmacy and drink them all in the same place. I was depressed and my reality was terrible. Terrifyingly destructive. I struggled through all this horror of my own worthlessness to the light, to faith in myself and my strength. And the words of the therapist just killed me. Sitting on her expensive sofa, I tested my personal reality - I was without money, without work, without strength, without mind and knowledge. It was my reality, my truth that lied.

But then I did not know about it. I didn't understand that my truth was lying. And to hear from a therapist, a rather significant and authoritative figure in my life, about “not testing” reality was a blow in the stomach, a blow below the belt. I don't remember what happened next. Judging by what I’m writing here now, I didn’t hang myself in the toilet, I didn’t have enough pills. In general, I am strong and tenacious. Then I just once again concluded that in a depressed state it is better for people not to open up - they will not understand, condemn, blame and destroy. I never returned to that therapist. What for? For me, therapy is all about gaining new experiences. I did not receive anything new, I received confirmation of past experience.

On the other hand, in that state, I would not have believed in the good things said about me.

How can you support a depressed person? What can a psychotherapist, a psychologist do for him? McWilliams writes about working with the pathological self-beliefs of a depressed person. Do not argue with these beliefs, or support them, but take a keen interest in these beliefs. From my experience, I understand that expressing sympathy does not support me, but rather humiliates me. So you can sympathize, but in moderation. Rather, it will support me if the therapist talks about her experiences. It is important for me that he stays close and, most importantly, does not remain silent. To be curious, to be interested in my beliefs about my universal badness and guilt. He asked and made a little laugh. Who are you to blame? Before everyone? Who are all of them? Right now, all the inhabitants of the earth will gather and say "And you, …, are to blame for everything before us," right? I picture this picture and begin to giggle softly. And my enormous guilt begins to diminish to a reasonable level. The spell of Ridiculus."