Pagliacci

Last week, it was the peak night for the Perseid meteor shower. I had just come in from three quarters of hour of stargazing, neck sore from craning up for so long. So far, I had seen nothing in the small patch of light-polluted London sky of my back garden. It was about 2:30am.

I sat down at my computer to take a short break. I saw the red banner of a breaking news story on my screen that had only been posted about ten minutes ago- Robin Williams had been found dead.

This post has been sitting in my drafts for a week now. I wanted to say something constructive and intelligent, and to express the strange and unexpected pain of losing someone I've never even met. I grew up with his on-screen shenanigans, marvelled at his talent and had heard stories of his kind nature, but I didn't know him; and yet I felt a little heartbroken. I couldn't find a way to express all of this. Thankfully, the internet, or indeed the whole world it seems, managed to convey these sentiments perfectly.

I was going to just delete this nod to Mr. Williams because I felt like I had nothing worth posting compared to everyone else, and certainly nothing as beautiful or thought-provoking as the heartfelt tributes that have gone out. However, I started to think about my own very personal dealings with the invisible but very tangible dead weight that is depression: both for myself and close friends. Then I began to think that if I can get through to just one person out there that happens to be reading this post- literally just one person in the whole world- and be able to help them just a little, then that's worth more than enough for me to post this.

There are days where you might feel like you could never be happy again. Or, just as bad, you feel like you could never feel anything ever again. There might be days where instantly when you wake up, you feel an invisible weight crushing down on you, and you wish nothing more than to just stay in bed and never get up again. There might be days where no matter what the hell you do you feel repulsive, unsuccessful and generally worthless to anyone or anything- and that either you, your loved ones, or both, would be better off if you just removed yourself from the world.

This is not the truth.

The sneakiest, most vicious part of depression is the way it convinces you that it's purely logical to feel this way. It's not. You have more worth than you can ever know, and are treasured more than you can ever realise. You don't deserve to be feeling like this at all, no matter what you tell yourself, and you have just as much right to be down as anyone else. Ignore people who tell you nonsense such as 'just snap out of it' or 'smile more' or 'be grateful for the life you have'. Depression is certainly not your fault, and these people are bloody idiots.

Most importantly of all, LET YOURSELF BE HELPED. You might feel like you don't want to burden others, but what good are the people on this earth if they can't support one another? Turn to the people closest to you, and sod the ones that run away- no-one needs people like that in their lives anyway, depression or no. Keep talking, and go to the doctor's to work out the best possible treatment for you. You know what? People with colds are lucky- they get streaming eyes, red noses, and sneeze and snort a lot, and they get all of the Lemsip and sympathy in the world. Depression is invisible, and more dangerously if you let it be- silent. So yes, there are people out there that will be of the "well I can't see it so it must not exist" ilk (again, these people are bloody idiots). Thankfully your doctor knows better than that. Go see them, and talk to them too.

I've been there. I nearly got lost. I'm back, and I'm stronger than ever. Sometimes it might feel like you could fall back into the pit. But once you realise the truth- that you deserve better- there will always be a safety net over the pit, and you'll never fall in again.

This is what I considered as I read the news that night, as well as how someone who has done so much good in the world can't feel of it for themselves. As for the Perseid meteor shower, I went straight back outside. I saw three little shooting stars and a great big one streak across the sky within ten minutes, this time.