“Sometimes, the people with the most to give are those who need to receive the most.”
I never met Robin Williams. In fact, although I have seen and enjoyed much of his work, I knew very little about him. I wasn’t aware of his struggle with bipolar and depression, but in the few clips I’d seen of him I sensed there was a dark sadness about him. I could tell because it was all too familiar. It was the same look I’d had most of my life, the one that no one notices.
That’s the thing about depression. You have no control over it, so you can respond to it in one of two ways. You can pity yourself, or you can compensate by finding ways to provide others with the joy you are unable to experience. During my struggle I experienced both responses, and I am willing to bet most people do, but there is always one that is prevalent. Those who are predominantly of the pity party persuasion usually try to get others to join in in pitying them. And whether or not they receive sympathy, people generally recognize that something is wrong. But for those of us who kill our depression with kindness, the pain goes unseen. Even our moments of self condolence are done in secret (and often met with self criticism) because such behavior does not benefit anyone. Usually the best way to get out of it is to throw yourself into some other project that helps someone, whether it’s making people laugh, giving someone an opportunity they never had or just being a listening ear. We make excellent listeners. At least this has been my experience.
The problem with behavior like this is that it creates a never ending cycle that often does not end well. The deep desire of everyone is to be loved an accepted. Depression, among other things, messes with our self value and/or our self worth. It either creates a sense of loathing that makes us feel like we have no worth, or we question our contribution to society (especially during the particularly dark times) and how much value others put in our existence. You know what else does this? Being an entertainer. Being a giver. It’s nearly impossible to know if people like you for you or just for what they can get from you. Thus creates the toxic back and forth of needing to give to satisfy your worth, and questioning whether or not you’re valued beyond your gift.
The point of this blog post is not to speak for everyone who is or who has ever battled with depression. But if you also can relate all too well to what I’ve said, know that you’re not alone. Recognizing behavioral patterns associated with depression and remembering that there were times when I didn’t feel overcome with sadness helped get me through the times when I felt broken. It felt like running a marathon, where you know there’s an end in sight but you can’t see it, and eventually everything within you aches. You can consume yourself with thinking about the pain, or you can think about how great it will feel to rest after the race is over. Now place that marathon on a tight rope, where you can either keep moving or fall, and that’s the closest I can describe depression to someone who hasn’t experienced it. Some people, like me, only have to race every now and then while others seem to go from race to race, with little reprieve in between.
I’ve gone a little off track from my original point. But I guess if I were to continue along with my race analogy, to everyone who has someone battling depression in their life (which is most likely everyone), your loved one needs people on the sidelines, cheering and helping him or her along. We won’t always tell you we need help. But learn to recognize the signs. Sometimes, the people with the most to give are those who need to receive the most. If you know someone who is constantly pouring into other people’s lives, figure out a way to pour back. That person may or may not be struggling with depression, but everyone’s well runs dry if not replenished. Show the people in your life, all of them, how much you value them. We may not be able to fix the world, but we can make it a place that’s a lot more bearable to live in.