Too blessed to be depressed
There are a lot of ignorant people in this world. “Too blessed to be depressed” read the bumper sticker on the car next to my aunt’s vehicle on the passenger side. I read it when we pulled into the parking space for Yogurtland and, well, was really upset right away. See, the church I attended in Wills Point may have had some nice people, but I asked for help many, MANY times all throughout last year. I kept finding out really bad things, asking for help – like, what would be the RIGHT thing to do? – asking if they knew of any place where there was something similar to Narcotics Anonymous, etc. all for all of my phone calls and emails and prayer requests to be ignored.
Because depression is apparently something you can control. Because having suicidal thoughts obviously means that you’re possessed by some demonic force or something, and that you’re too crazy to go there. So I stopped attending altogether. I remember seeing the member of the congregation that baptized me at Brookshire’s in December whilst I was getting cough drops and cough medicine and throat drops after work. Small talk. Then, “Haven’t seen you at church lately, something happen?” I said I had work and they wouldn’t let me off (because they really wouldn’t), and then that I’d try later on. I did go back once or maybe twice more, and then very sporadically after that. But then everyone knew because it was February all of a sudden, and Mimi had told them a lot. It was unfair, and how can you go into a building where people aren’t supposed to judge you when they judge you anyway?
I think that’s where I developed my intolerance for ignorant people as far as depression goes. I mean, they really have no idea – especially when they say, “What’s there to be unhappy about? You just should just be happy. You’re alive, fed,” blah, blah, blah. I mean, how am I supposed to deal with that crap?
So I have figured out that I need to keep the people who bring me down far and the people who actually care about helping me, will listen and respect my limitations, etc. nearby. Those that I have to keep far may be people I want in my life and close and whatnot (especially if they are family), but I can’t handle that. I lack tolerance for them. I wish they would want to listen enough to actually listen and understand, but they’re very closed minded and just… won’t. I can’t make them; I need to get over that.
Granted, they probably don’t even understand that when they ask whether there’s a cure, why I can’t just “think positive/happy”, etc. that it’s very offensive to me and hurts. I’m not “being sensitive” or “just trying to get attention”. It’s even hurtful when people choose minor things and/or just ______ and call it depressing:
- This dress is depressing me.
- I have no money to go shopping this weekend. 🙁 DOES MY JOB WANT ME TO BE DEPRESSED?!
- Sleeping alone in a double bed is too depressing. (THEY’RE A TEENAGER)
- Country music is so annoying that it’s actually depressing to listen to.
- Blackberry cameras are so ugly and depressing.
- People like to ruin my way of thinking because theirs is boring/depressing/stupid.
My most despised one, because I don’t think either is worse than the other:
Animal abuse is more depressing than child/domestic abuse.
Which, then (of course) gets YouTubers going against each other:
“HOW is animal abuse worse than human abuse?! We are people, and you’re putting down your own kind!”
“Yeah, I am putting down my own kind because humans are horrible people. They deserve to be abused. Animals have no voice.”
It keeps going for about 15 replies or so FOR EACH PERSON.
People are abusing the word mental malfunction depression, which is causing it to seem like such a pedestrian problem for/to those who actually have it.
Having zero Internet, a low-to-zero power of battery, not being allowed to tan as much as you’d like and so on is not “depressing”. Those are such minor problems that give others permission to feel like it’s OK to say to one who’s actually depressed that they’re “fine” and “can get over it” and BLAH, BLAH, BLAH.
It really ticks me off. 🙁