As I lie down, I feel the cold breath of despair wash over me. The dream invites me to it, a welcome escape from the noisy crowd in my head and the heavy weight pressing down on my chest and stomach. My body involuntarily curls up, assuming the characteristics of an unborn child, totally dependent on another person to meet her every need. But I can feel my umbilical cord twisting and tangling. Life itself is draining from me. Maybe I’m already asleep and this is a dream. I desperately try to wake up, but the more I try, the more I realize that this is my reality. Now I must sleep to escape his cold, hard gaze. My soul, wrinkled, dry, lifeless. My essence… disappearing. Disappearing inside of me All that remains is a broken shell.

My first encounter with clinical depression was the most terrifying experience of my life. The term ‘depression’ is misleading to many, after all we have all felt down, sad or ‘down’ at some point and managed to get over it. How bad can it really be? In fact, mild depression bears little resemblance to severe clinical depression. At its most virulent, depression is dark, terrifying, crippling, and life-threatening. It is more than just feeling sad or sad. Clinical depression is the darkest shade of blue possible, the shade that teeters on the brink of total blackness.

According to the World Health Organization, depression may soon become one of the leading disabling diseases worldwide. Approximately one in five women and one in eight men will personally experience depression at some point in their lives. Even more disturbing is the fact that children are increasingly being diagnosed with depression. And it is estimated that up to half of the sick do not seek help.

Despite what is known about this condition, there is still a great deal of stigma attached to it. The one who suffers is not only ashamed of his condition, but his shame is perpetuated by society’s profound misunderstanding. Along with their shame, they often feel like they are sinking into the quicksand of madness. And the fear of madness can be worse than the fear of death.

So where does this severe form of depression come from? There are no definitive answers, but there seem to be myriad influences on depression, ranging from religious beliefs to changes in the weather. Some of us are genetically predisposed to depression with evidence showing that more than half of a person’s vulnerability is in their genes. A person with a severely depressed sibling or parent has more than double the risk, and that risk increases to about five times if that relative falls victim before the age of twenty.

There are certain life events that trigger around two thirds of depressive episodes. The other third of the episodes seem to come out of nowhere. No matter the risks or the causes, no one is immune.

It is, without a doubt, an inconceivable disease to anyone who has not found themselves in its terrifying clutches, a terrifying and paralyzing despair, bordering on madness. For many, suicide is the only escape; the final victory comes at a supreme price and a tragic loss for loved ones.

What is it like to find yourself in the depths of a severe depression? Many, in their efforts to describe it in words, have found that even their best attempts have failed. Throughout history, philosophers, writers, and poets have attempted to portray the dark terrors of the most severe form of depression. They have discovered that the ‘indescribable’ can only be represented through metaphor. It was Winston Churchill’s ‘black dog’, Julia Kristeva’s ‘black sun’, William Styron’s ‘visible darkness’ and John Milton’s ‘cascading darkness’. Emily Dickinson’s eloquent description of a depressive breakdown in I felt a funeral in my brain it is full of metaphors. Marie Cardinal in her autobiographical novel, The words to say it offers a movingly honest and descriptive portrait of his long struggle with clinical depression which he calls the ‘Thing’. Then, between the metaphors, the writers carefully place the subtle gaps and silences, which contain what is ultimately inconceivable. There are no words to describe it, just concepts that come together to give the reader an idea of ​​what it could be like.

The depressed desperately need to be understood, but having personally experienced the suffering of depression is the only way to truly know and understand. The support of family and close friends is also vital, but how do you help someone whose illness is inconceivable and whose behavior is misunderstood?

The depressed person already carries an unimaginable weight of shame, guilt, and self-condemnation. His illness is not of his choosing, nor is it his fault. It is a serious and almost inexplicable disease, often more terrifying than death itself. Those who suffer from depression need as much love and support as those who suffer from cancer. Please don’t be hard on them. Avoid telling them to get up and get over it. Doing that is critical to telling an epileptic to take control during a seizure.

The depressed need their loved ones to love them unconditionally and forgive them for their mistakes. The world of the depressed is dark and unimaginably scary, but even the slightest glimmer of light can snap them out of their world of darkness.