Why is it so hard to talk about depression?

“Just get over it.”

“Suck it up.”

“Chin up, bitch.”

“You’re fine.”

These are things you might hear (or have heard) if you’re depressed. As a society, we’re not particularly well equipped to deal with mental health. At first glance, it’s at least somewhat understandable. Here’s why: We don’t know how the brain works. Yes, we know it has brain cells that use electricity to fire neurons that connect to other neurons and that’s basically how memories, emotions, original thoughts and knowledge work. But truly, I fucking dare you to go much deeper. We have a machine that can see WHERE in the brain certain things fire. But generally we don’t know how or why.

We’re still asking the “nature vs. nurture” question when it comes to things as far ranging as and as simple as preference of Coke & Peps… all the way to latent racism and sexuality.

It’s hard enough to figure out why something makes us happy, that it’s almost unfathomable to comprehend why something might make you sad.

One problem is that when a happy person has a sad friend, they can sometimes shy away from them, out of fear that they’ll drag them down with them. Like depression is contagious or something. It’s not, but you can understand the sentiment.

Another problem is that generally, empathy is on short supply. If you look at the genetics of our survival, it doesn’t take long to view every living organism as a selfish, self interested collection of cells just trying to reproduce. But in the self-involved modern era of social media, we care about our likes, views, and instant feedback. So, it’s even harder to care about anyone else.

I mean think of the last time one of your friends on social media posted, “having a really hard day, and just want to ball up on the floor and cry.” If your first reaction wasn’t, “jeez, a bit melodramatic,” just reading the status update, then it probably came shortly after, having read the overly caring comments of, “you’re the best,” and, “you can do anything” or “hang in their sweetie.”

But here’s the problem: Depression isn’t always debilitating and inactive. Sometimes it leads to a person taking their own life. And sometimes it leads to a person taking the lives of others in violent displays of their violently depressed state.

The world is a complicated place, and it’s hard to navigate. We need each other more than ever, but I propose this: Why not combine our narcissistic desire to express ourselves with the true need to get help when we’re depressed… and talk about it. If you’re sad. Post that shit.

Thinking about skipping a social hang because you’re too sad to shower: tell someone.

And when you see those things online, don’t hate. And don’t comment. Call. Reach out. Go over. Make sure they’re ok. Because depression is real, and people are dying.

But what do you think? How do you deal with your own depression?

And how do you feel about the depression of others?

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