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In my dream, people near and dear to me knew my depression was out of control. They kept urging me to “talk about it” with them. “Talk about it” is a common refrain and yes, talk therapy with a professional can be an effective treatment for depression.
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But it’s certainly not as simple as “talk about it”. Depression is insidious. It sneaks up on you. It’s like a fog that slowly rolls in, imperceptibly at first. *No one thing is suddenly wrong*.
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There’s nothing to _talk about_ because nothing has changed. Except everything has, ever so gradually, shifted. And then shifted some more.
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I spent my entire dream trying to explain that while something is clearly wrong, no THING is wrong. There’s nothing to talk about except everything, which is overwhelming and impractical.
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Dysthymia with chronic major depression is like the worst fucking roller coaster of all time. It’s a constant ride downward punctuated by tiny blips of “I’m all better!!!!” that’s really only a fraction of what mental health actually feels like.