Since the outbreak of the new crown epidemic, there have been over 70 million new cases of depression worldwide, 90 million cases of anxiety, and hundreds of millions of people experiencing insomnia disorders. Globally, over 700,000 people commit suicide each year due to depression. Research shows that there is one depression patient among every 14 people.
Depression seems to be a terrible disease that is consuming the lives of patients. However, as someone who has been battling depression for nearly 20 years, I want to say to everyone who is also in the abyss, “Don’t be afraid. We are not sick, we are just lost.”
I was a boring, insecure, and unhappy person. Since I was very young, I often pondered the question of life and death, unsure of the reason for continuing besides responsibility. The most perfect ending to life that I could imagine was: fulfilling my innate mission and then ending my life in a place where no one would be disturbed. It would be best if I could just disappear without causing any trouble to others.
I have tried to do things that seemed to make me happy. I raised pets, worked hard to rank first, traveled, enjoyed delicious food, sang, played with friends, spent time with family, read various inspirational books… even in the world of fiction, pretending to experience different lives as the protagonist. But I was still not happy; I became a “pretender,” a “chameleon.” My emotions were all an act.
I can’t find myself, I have lost the real me. Wearing the mask for too long, I can no longer hear the voice deep inside. In the quiet of the night, I start asking myself, “Do you really like that thing?” “Do you really like your current job?” “Are your likes real?” “Are your dislikes real?”… I don’t know, it seems like I am even more miserable. Or… forget it, what’s good in this world anyway?
But I refuse to give up, I at least want to find the real me, then embrace her, listen to her, and if the real me still wants to leave this world, I will accompany her and leave together.
The me who doesn’t belong here found the real me. I got rid of electronic devices, quit my job, found a quiet bookstore, and exiled myself. In the sea of books, I searched for kindred spirits that would resonate with my soul. Quiet down, examine the voice deep within myself, slowly discover what I truly like, dislike, and mourn.
I started accepting the real me, even though I am not perfect, I am both cheerful and dark, both tolerant and selfish, both kind and evil… but I am irreplaceable. Life has countless choices, and those choices make up the real me. I have goals now, things that I truly love. If today is the end of my life, what would I want to do? This is the only ray of sunshine in the abyss, I want to chase it, do my best.
To be born towards death, why fear it? I can imagine the worst, being swallowed by the abyss and heading towards death. What is there left to fear? What can’t kill me will eventually make me stronger. Even if I fail, it’s just a trial and error, I can always start over. If I don’t even have the right to fail, then I am truly pitiful.
Things are slowly getting better, I seem to have hope of climbing out of the abyss. Living on has other reasons now, which should support me through the rest of my life.
I don’t know if my feelings can inspire those of you who are also in the abyss, but I think, since we are not yet dead, we are still seeking survival. This too shall pass. Don’t be afraid, we are just lost, we will eventually find ourselves.
