Identifying the Signs & Symptoms of Depression: There Are No Blood Tests
One thing I’ve heard time and again from folks who read my blog is “I had no idea what it meant to be depressed until I was in it myself.” And I get it. I’ve never had a broken leg, so I have no idea what it’s like to break my leg. If you’ve never been diagnosed with major depressive disorder, it’s hard to know what it’s like, especially considering the stigma that shrouds mental illness.
You’ve probably thought it’s just feeling sad or staying in bed all day.
While those things are part of it, depression is much more than sadness and lethargy.
So, what IS it like to be in a major depressive state? Unlike breaking your leg, it typically doesn’t just happen at one point in time. Yes, some folks can attribute their depression to a traumatic episode or a point in time, but it’s still not the same as taking a fall or coming down with the flu. There is no x-ray or thermometer to measure your sickness. There are no blood tests that confirm you have depression. Identifying depression is left to the patient, their family, or their doctor and that’s only if the patient is honest.
For me, depression was like a slow, dull burn that I tried to ignore until one day I realized I was on fire.
It was like wearing a heavy coat in summer, trying to hide my scars, and thinking that maybe people didn’t notice. But also worrying maybe they are wondering why I’m wearing a parka to the beach. Maybe they are talking about me. Maybe they aren’t sure what to say. I was worrying and feeling paranoid all day long.
Depression was like doing a triathlon every day of life but without the satisfaction of completion. I felt beat down and exhausted — physically and mentally. I felt like every day I was walking through Jell-O like I couldn’t get to where I was going. At the same, I felt restless, like I couldn’t be in one place. I felt hopeless — like I was never getting out of this Jell-O, never going to finish the triathlon, and this slow-burn was never going to end.
I envisioned my usual sunny and upbeat personality as a cute little emoji being trampled by an angry, dark shadow. I felt like a smile was painted on my face — almost like the Joker. (See picture above.) Everything people said felt like a personal attack or a secret message that I didn’t understand. Any decision I had to make felt like it was the end-all and be-all. I felt paralyzed and overcome with confusion.
At the same time, I found myself saying things and doing things that weren’t aligned with who I am and what I believe in. I’d often wonder why did I say that? What am I doing? Every interaction felt like a case of verbal diarrhea like I couldn’t control what I was saying. I was drinking more to get the temporary happiness that alcohol brings. But, as Jon says, when you drink, you’re borrowing happiness from tomorrow so the next day I would feel worse. I felt like I was watching someone else play Lauren on TV.
While I never felt like I was going to hurt myself, at times I didn’t care if I lived or died. I wished something would happen to me. Wouldn’t it be great if this train just derailed? However, I was self-aware enough to know that something like that would be devastating to Jon, and I couldn’t do that to him. Jon is what kept me going. He would always say, he’s got my back, no matter what. Those words kept me going.
One day, the world seemed to collapse from under me. I had a really horrible few days and I couldn’t breathe. Every breath felt like there was an elephant sitting on my chest. I couldn’t get out of bed, and I couldn’t stop crying. This was rock bottom, even though I wasn’t sure I realized that at the time.
I ended up going to the doctor. She looked at me and said, “Hon, you’re depressed.” It was so strange hearing it because I’m already on anti-depressants. I was already seeing a therapist. I have chronic depression. I felt like depression and I were buds. So why hadn’t I realized what was happening? But this was not the chronic depression that I learned how to manage; it was a major depressive episode. Medical News Today explains: “A depressive episode in the context of a major depressive disorder is a period characterized by low mood and other depression symptoms that lasts for 2 weeks or more.”
Hearing her words gave me the power to own it. Even though I was still on fire, I felt like I knew what I had to do to stop the flames. To be clear, depression or any mental illness doesn’t excuse someone’s behavior. But, perhaps, it can just provide some color to a situation.
After that, I decided to take some time off to recharge and get back to myself. It was at that point that I knew one day I’d talk about my experience. I wasn’t ready at that point, but I knew I had to be a voice for people just like me, wearing that parka during summer, burning without putting out the flames, walking through Jell-O.
It took almost 2.5 years to get to this point where I felt comfortable talking about it. But once I did and I saw the response, I knew I couldn’t turn back. People were resonating with my experience, and they were learning what it means to have a mental illness.
So maybe you’ve read this and realized that you have experienced depression. Or maybe you still can’t relate, but you at least now have a better picture. Whatever you may be feeling at this point, I want to share the signs and symptoms of depression, as identified by the National Institute of Mental Health, so we can break that stigma and get people the help they need.
If you or someone you know is experiencing any of these symptoms for a prolonged period, get screened. You don’t need to experience every single symptom to be diagnosed with acute or chronic depression, but you never know until you ask. So talk to your doctor or any doctor. No one needs to go it alone.
Here are the NIMH’s official symptoms and signs of depression:
Persistent sad, anxious, or “empty” mood
Feelings of hopelessness, or pessimism
Irritability
Feelings of guilt, worthlessness, or helplessness
Loss of interest or pleasure in hobbies and activities
Decreased energy or fatigue
Moving or talking more slowly
Feeling restless or having trouble sitting still
Difficulty concentrating, remembering, or making decisions
Difficulty sleeping, early-morning awakening, or oversleeping
Appetite and/or weight changes
Thoughts of death or suicide, or suicide attempts
Aches or pains, headaches, cramps, or digestive problems without a clear physical cause and/or that do not ease even with treatment
Call the NAMI Helpline at 800–950-NAMI Or in a crisis, text “NAMI” to 741741
