8 min read
mood: honest
🌫️
Beyond the Stereotype
When people think about depression, they usually picture someone crying, staying in bed all day, or talking about how sad they feel. But that's not what my depression looks like most of the time. My depression is more like living inside a thick fog where everything feels muted, distant, and gray.
The sadness comes and goes, but the numbness? That stays.
The sadness comes and goes, but the numbness? That stays.
🔇 The Great Emotional Flatline
🔇
The Great Emotional Flatline
Depression, for me, isn't dramatically sad it's dramatically nothing. It's waking up and feeling like someone turned down the volume on life. Colors seem less vibrant, food tastes like cardboard, conversations feel like they're happening behind glass. I can go through entire days feeling like I'm watching my life happen to someone else.
People expect depression to look like crying or expressing pain, but often it looks like me sitting at my computer, staring at the screen, unable to care enough about anything to actually do it. It's not that I'm sad about my work—I literally cannot access the part of me that feels motivated or interested or excited about anything.
The numbness is particularly cruel because it robs you of both positive and negative emotions. I can't:
- Feel excited about good news
- Feel satisfied by accomplishments
- Even feel properly upset about things that should bother me
It's like emotional anesthesia that I never asked for.
People expect depression to look like crying or expressing pain, but often it looks like me sitting at my computer, staring at the screen, unable to care enough about anything to actually do it. It's not that I'm sad about my work—I literally cannot access the part of me that feels motivated or interested or excited about anything.
The numbness is particularly cruel because it robs you of both positive and negative emotions. I can't:
- Feel excited about good news
- Feel satisfied by accomplishments
- Even feel properly upset about things that should bother me
It's like emotional anesthesia that I never asked for.
⚖️ When Everything Feels Like Too Much and Nothing at All
⚖️
When Everything Feels Like Too Much and Nothing at All
Here's the paradox that's hard to explain: everything feels overwhelming while simultaneously feeling meaningless. Taking a shower feels like climbing Mount Everest, but I also can't understand why it matters whether I'm clean or not. Responding to texts feels impossible, but I also can't connect with why maintaining friendships is important.
This is especially complicated when you're dealing with other challenges. During my worst depressive episodes, the energy required to manage my visible differences, navigate social situations, and handle the daily realities of being different feels absolutely insurmountable. But I also lose the ability to care about any of it.
It's like depression takes away both your capacity to handle life and your ability to remember why life is worth handling.
This is especially complicated when you're dealing with other challenges. During my worst depressive episodes, the energy required to manage my visible differences, navigate social situations, and handle the daily realities of being different feels absolutely insurmountable. But I also lose the ability to care about any of it.
It's like depression takes away both your capacity to handle life and your ability to remember why life is worth handling.
🎭 The Mask of Functionality
🎭
The Mask of Functionality
What confuses people is that I can still function during these periods. I show up to work, have conversations, even laugh at jokes. From the outside, I might look fine, maybe just a little tired or distracted. But inside, I'm running on autopilot, going through the motions without feeling connected to any of it.
This functional depression is almost harder to deal with because it doesn't fit people's expectations. When you're not dramatically falling apart, others assume you're okay. You start questioning yourself too—maybe this isn't really depression, maybe you're just lazy or ungrateful or broken in some other way.
But functioning while depressed is exhausting in a way that's hard to describe. It's like trying to run a marathon while holding your breath technically possible for a while, but not sustainable.
This functional depression is almost harder to deal with because it doesn't fit people's expectations. When you're not dramatically falling apart, others assume you're okay. You start questioning yourself too—maybe this isn't really depression, maybe you're just lazy or ungrateful or broken in some other way.
But functioning while depressed is exhausting in a way that's hard to describe. It's like trying to run a marathon while holding your breath technically possible for a while, but not sustainable.
📏 The Comparison Trap
📏
The Comparison Trap
Having visible differences adds another layer to depression because there's this constant narrative about overcoming challenges and being inspirational. When I'm depressed, I feel like I'm failing at being the "strong person with disabilities" that everyone expects me to be.
People see someone who's handled multiple surgeries and medical challenges and assume I must be naturally resilient or positive. But depression doesn't care about your track record with adversity. If anything, sometimes it feels like depression is the accumulated weight of all those challenges finally catching up with me.
The numbness makes it impossible to access the coping strategies that usually work. The self compassion, the perspective, the gratitude all of it feels hollow and unreachable when you're in the fog.
People see someone who's handled multiple surgeries and medical challenges and assume I must be naturally resilient or positive. But depression doesn't care about your track record with adversity. If anything, sometimes it feels like depression is the accumulated weight of all those challenges finally catching up with me.
The numbness makes it impossible to access the coping strategies that usually work. The self compassion, the perspective, the gratitude all of it feels hollow and unreachable when you're in the fog.
⏳ The Waiting Game
⏳
The Waiting Game
One of the most frustrating things about depression is that you know it's temporary, but you can't feel that truth when you're in it. Intellectually, I understand that this will pass, that I've been through this before and come out the other side. But when you're numb, that knowledge feels abstract and irrelevant.
It's like being told that spring is coming while you're trapped in what feels like an endless winter. You might believe it logically, but your body and brain are convinced that this gray, frozen state is permanent.
The waiting becomes its own kind of torture because you're not just dealing with depression you're dealing with the meta-experience of knowing you're depressed and feeling helpless to do anything about it.
It's like being told that spring is coming while you're trapped in what feels like an endless winter. You might believe it logically, but your body and brain are convinced that this gray, frozen state is permanent.
The waiting becomes its own kind of torture because you're not just dealing with depression you're dealing with the meta-experience of knowing you're depressed and feeling helpless to do anything about it.
🛟
What Actually Helps
I've learned that fighting the numbness usually makes it worse. Trying to force myself to feel grateful or positive just reminds me how disconnected I am from those emotions. Instead, I focus on tiny, concrete things: taking my medication, eating something, moving my body, maintaining basic routines.
During these periods, I lower my expectations drastically. The goal isn't to feel better immediately it's to keep myself safe and functioning until the fog starts to lift. Sometimes that means canceling plans, asking for help, or just accepting that today is going to be a survival day.
Connection helps, even when I can't feel it fully. Talking to people who understand that depression isn't always dramatic crying sometimes it's just existing in grayscale makes the experience feel less isolating.
During these periods, I lower my expectations drastically. The goal isn't to feel better immediately it's to keep myself safe and functioning until the fog starts to lift. Sometimes that means canceling plans, asking for help, or just accepting that today is going to be a survival day.
Connection helps, even when I can't feel it fully. Talking to people who understand that depression isn't always dramatic crying sometimes it's just existing in grayscale makes the experience feel less isolating.
🌅 The Slow Return
🌅
The Slow Return
Depression doesn't usually end dramatically either. It's not like waking up one day and suddenly feeling normal again. It's more like gradually noticing that food has started tasting like something, that colors seem a little brighter, that you actually care about the outcome of a conversation you're having.
The return of feeling even difficult feelings is actually a relief. Being able to feel frustrated or disappointed means the emotional system is coming back online. Caring enough to be annoyed about something is progress.
The return of feeling even difficult feelings is actually a relief. Being able to feel frustrated or disappointed means the emotional system is coming back online. Caring enough to be annoyed about something is progress.
""Breaking the Silence
I think we need to talk more about this version of depression the kind that doesn't look like what people expect, the kind that's more about absence than presence. Because when your experience doesn't match the narrative, you start to think you're not really depressed, just weak or defective.
Depression isn't always crying in bed. Sometimes it's going through all the motions of life while feeling fundamentally disconnected from all of it. Sometimes it's the numbness that's harder to explain than sadness ever was.
If that's your experience too, you're not broken. You're not doing depression wrong. You're dealing with something real and difficult, even if it doesn't look like what movies and TV shows portray.
The fog lifts. The feelings come back. But until they do, be gentle with yourself for just existing in the gray space. Sometimes that's the bravest thing you can do.