Sometimes I wonder if my constant need to rationalize my depression to those who dont understand it is part of the reason for unrelenting rumination.
If someone asks how I’m doing, I cant just say “i’m depressed.” They want a reason for it and that reason must be socially acceptable.
If they ask why and I say “bc I had to make mac and cheese today and stirring in the cheese made me cry for two hours,” they will not get it. If they ask why and I say “bc my life has been uprooted twice in the last six months,” they show a modicum of understanding.
Of course, when I give the socially acceptable reasons, then I’m treated like some sort of project. Like if they fix those things then I will be fixed.
I would love a cure for depression. But they try to cure it with “get a job” or “go back to school.” I tried those things. Having a job doesn’t actually help with my depression. Going back to school seems to trigger worse episodes. Like no, how about “therapy” and “medication.” Those might actually work.
Then, in trying to think of a socially acceptable reason for my depression, I end up ruminating about every failed relationship and how it was always my fault and i’m terrible and will never be in a healthy relationship ever again.
All because someone wouldn’t believe me about the damned mac and cheese.
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