Tag Archives: believe

10 Depression Symptom Analogies For Those Who Have Trouble Understanding

If others don’t believe you when you are certain you speak the truth, if you get blamed for something you know is not your fault, if no matter how many times you try explaining something the person just doesn’t get it, how does it make you feel?

Pretty frustrated, I’m sure.

Sadly, this is the case for many who suffer mental illness, like depression. Imagine being accused of creating your own illness with your negative attitude, laziness, or self pity. It’s pretty awful. Those with depression long to be believed, long to be understood. Depression is NOT a feeling. It’s a very real disease, and I’m going to attempt to describe it to you with some analogies below.

10 Depression Symptom Analogies To Help You Understand:

1.) Irritability (The Sandpaper Bed)

You stand beside your bed. It looks cozy and inviting. You climb in and are startled by the feel of the sheets on your skin. They are rough, like sandpaper. Your pillow is hard as a rock. You roll over, nothing changes. The sandpaper sheets hurt your skin, the rock pillow makes your head hurt. This is what irritability is like. You know you should not be bothered, but everything annoys you, angers you, makes you very uncomfortable. You wish with all of your might you could relax and feel peaceful, but it just won’t happen. You want to explode at everyone around you, but you hold it in as best you can. You press on, try to appear normal. Like a night spent in the sandpaper bed would be, it’s totally exhausting.

2.) Empty/Numb (The Worst Comedy Show Ever)

Depression frequently makes you feel…absolutely nothing at all. Imagine you’re at a comedy show, but you’re the only one who finds nothing funny about it. Everyone else cracks up laughing at jokes that evoke no response in you at all. You wish you could enjoy yourself as they are, but your heart and mind are void of all feeling, You throw back a few drinks, to try to ignite a spark of life within you, to no avail. You just want to go home so you can stop pretending you actually feel something other than numbness. Depression often makes you feel as though someone has reached in and ripped your soul out of your body. It’s not fun.

3.) Extreme Fatigue (the 500 lb lead weight suit)

Picture yourself wearing full body armour made of lead. You try to go about your daily activities, but every movement requires tremendous effort. You want to move. You try your best to move. It’s just completely exhausting. No matter how hard you try, you seem unable to take off your lead body armour. It only removes itself when it feels like it.

4.) Self Loathing (tied with a rope to someone you really dislike)

What if that person you can’t stand being around, that person you have a hard time finding good qualities in, that person you just can’t seem to like was tied to you with a 3 foot long rope for an entire day? “No way in hell,” you are probably thinking. Well, if you suffer depression, that person is tied to you permanently. That person is yourself. It is a very sad, but very true reality of depression. The majority of the time during a depressive episode the sufferer thinks very negatively about themselves, and they might even have feelings of self hatred.

5.) Guilt (A body covered in long whiskers that bug everyone around you.)

Imagine you walk through the mall, or attend a family function, and all of a sudden your body grows huge, prickly whiskers that poke at everyone around you. You’d feel the need to apologize an awful lot. You’d probably feel pretty bad. Guilty. Guilty for being your prickly, whiskery self. Depression doesn’t make a person grow whiskers of course, but it certainly brings on constant, tremendous feelings of guilt. It makes you feel as though you are letting everyone down, that everyone is annoyed at, or disappointed by you.

6.) Physical Discomfort (The Constant Hangover)

Headache. Body Aches. Joint Pain. Nausea. Dizziness. If it gets bad enough, depression makes you feel like you have a constant hangover. If you haven’t experienced a hangover, think of how you feel when you are coming down with the flu. Many cases of depression/anxiety are diagnosed only after the patient has sought medical help for physical symptoms.( I myself was one of those cases.) Those “Depression Hurts” commercials do not lie.

7.) Confusion (partially soundproof, translucent glass box.)

If you spent an hour surrounded by glass that was hard to see through, hard to hear through and tried to go about life as usual, things would get pretty darn confusing. Depression often feels exactly like this. Focusing on anything becomes very hard. You find yourself holding your head in your hands all the time. Your vision literally blurs, and you have a hard time understanding what anyone is talking to you about. This confusion just increases other symptoms, like irritability and fatigue.

8.) Strong Desire to Hide (avoiding a telemarketer who is always callng)

You know that feeling you have when you see a telemarketer’s number on the call display? Someone with depression feels this way pretty much all of the time. They don’t want to answer the phone, or the door. They don’t want to go get groceries, they don’t want to go to your party. All they really want to do is hide under the covers and stop pretending everything is alright. They want to hide away so they can be depressed without fear of judgement, or feelings of guilt.

9.) Dread (a colonoscopy is looming, every minute of every day)

I think it’s safe to say nobody out there looks forward to the day they need a colonoscopy. When you suffer depression, you always feel like something unpleasant lies in the near future. Dread. Dread for reasons you can’t explain. In fact, knowing the dread was caused by an approaching colonoscopy would probably be an improvement over the nonspecific, sinking, scared feeling you often wake with, eat lunch with, go to bed with when you suffer from depression.

10.) Hopeless/Trapped (drowning)

Imagine you are trapped in a tank of deep water. You tread water for a long time. You start getting tired. You aren’t sure how much longer you’ll be able to keep your head above water. You try to stay afloat, try to conserve your energy and pray someone will come along and help you. Time ticks on. You are so tired. You sink below the surface, hold your breath for as long as you can. Nobody is coming to save you because nobody notices you need help. Desperately, you pull to the surface, gasp for air, sink back down again. You aren’t going to make it. You have lost all hope.

Depression is a very lonely, often desperate battle to feel alive.

But it doesn’t have to be lonely.

It doesn’t have to be hopeless.

There is plenty of help available for those suffering depression. They just need to feel comfortable enough to seek it out. All of the stigma, the fear, the lack of empathy and understanding toward mental illness in our society needs to end.

The best thing you can do for someone with depression is let them know you believe them, and you are not afraid to talk with them about it openly and honestly.

You can be that arm that pulls them out of that tank of deep water with a few powerful words.

“I am here for you.”

“I am listening.”

” I believe you.”




Thanks so much for reading.

Be Brave, and Talk.

Actually, No. It Is Not All In My Head!

It is estimated that 50% of visits to the doctor for physical ailments end up being rooted in psychiatric causes.

Does this mean that half of a doctor’s patients are imagining their symptoms, or faking it?

No. No, not at all.

As you know, the brain is the “control centre” for the entire body. There are hormones, receptors for hormones, proteins involved in making these hormones and receptors…it is all quite complex, and I’m not going to pretend I know how to explain it. The main idea here though is your brain, along with your endocrine system (hormone system) controls your whole physiology. So, when something is not quite right with hormones, or hormone receptors, or the inticrate pathways these things take throughout your brain and entire body, you are going to experience physiological symptoms: mental, emotional, and physical.

The mind-body connection is a strong one. Not because we have vivid imaginations. Not due to the power of the placebo effect. The mind-body connection is a strong one that is based on real, live, scientifically observed biochemistry.


You awaken to the sound of your baby’s hearty grunting. Normally, this would make you laugh, but your head is pounding. You feel like you can’t move. Cramps squeeze hard on your lower spine. Pain radiates into your pelvic bone. Your sheets are soaked with sweat once again. Taking deep breaths, you carefully roll your body over, wincing at the back pain. You just need to relax a bit, and the pain will ease. The same thing has happened each morning lately.

You loosen up enough to move just as your baby starts crying for you. Standing up makes your head spin, so you sit back down, take more deep breaths.

It’s Okay. You can do this.

You sigh with relief and feel grateful your baby’s bassinet is right beside the bed as you sink back into your pillow and hold her close. You nurse her, and feel comforted, despite the pain in your head. Your mind wanders. Every time you start thinking of what might be wrong with your health, you desperately try to shake it off. Tears sting your eyes when you picture your two sweet little girls trying to make it in this world without their mother.

No. No. No. You do not have a spinal tumour. You do not have ovarian cancer. You do not have leukaemia. You are not dying.

A sharp burning prickles over the skin on your left upper chest. It slowly fades into numbness. Shingles. Your defences are down, your body is tired, your immune system is weak. The chicken pox virus you had as a kid has jumped on the opportunity and come back with a vengeance. You have been enduring it now for 2 months, which you know is a lot longer than normal for a person your age.

Shingles is for weak, old people, isn’t it?
Why did you get it?
Why won’t it go away?

You gently burp your baby, being careful to keep her against your right side. You bend your fingers and notice your hands are slightly swollen.

Maybe it’s your kidneys. That would explain the back pain. Maybe your electrolytes are out of balance. That can cause heart failure.

A wave of nausea crashes over you. Your heart thunders. Your body is rubber. Your bedding feels like it has been stuffed with massive lead bars as it rests upon you. You see black spots rimmed with twinkling light in front of you.

You are going to pass out. Frantically you call to your husband. He needs to wake up and take the baby! When she is safe in his arms, you roll onto the floor. Remembering your lifeguard days, you put yourself into the recovery position. Your frail body rocks back and forth. You suck in air, trying not to pass out. Your stomach churns. You tingle all over.

Your husband has rushed to bring you some juice. He asks if he should call an ambulance.

“I don’t know.” You cry.

You press yourself into the cool floor and will yourself to stay conscious. You take deep breaths, and sip the juice. Your husband kneels beside you, cradles the baby in one arm and rubs your back. Slowly you start to feel better. You stand up, feel an urgent need to visit the washroom, pass loose stools. This has been an increasingly common health concern for you.

You wash your hands and gaze into the mirror. You look green. You lift up your shirt and examine your stomach. At least the hives that covered you the night before are gone now. You step on the scale: 95.8lbs. You have lost all of your baby weight, plus at least 10 extra pounds in only a few months.

Just add it to the list of reasons you think you are dying.

In the living room your children lie on the baby’s play mat and giggle.

Your husband pulls you into a tight hug.

“What’s wrong with me, Lovey?”

You apologize for wetting his shirt and look up at his concerned expression.

“I don’t know, Cutie, but you need to make an appointment with the doctor. No more putting it off.”


When you first walked into the examining room, your blood pressure was through the roof. 180 over something. You could hardly speak without your voice breaking.

Now, you’ve been waiting for a while, you feel a bit better. You grab your purse tightly. You mutter prayers repeatedly.

The door opens, and you jump. The familiar sight of your competent doctor, his warm greeting threaten to unravel you. You smile weakly. This is it.

Your doctor produces the paperwork from the extensive testing he had ordered for you.

Abdominal and pelvic ultrasound: normal

Chest x-Ray: normal

2 pages of blood work: all normal

Urine test: normal

Tears stream down your face and you sigh heavily.

You aren’t dying. According to the tests completed, you are perfectly healthy.

But why have you been feeling so awful?

You expect your doctor to reassure you and dismiss you, but he doesn’t.

He asks you if you have a personal and / or family history of anxiety and depression.

Yes. Yes, you have both.

“How has your mood been lately?” He asks gently.

Then, you unravel. Your kind doctor passes you the box of Kleenex and waits.

You’ve been feeling scared. Scared for no reason, almost all of the time. You are tired beyond words, but can’t catch a good sleep. You have trouble focusing when talking on the phone, when getting groceries. You get irritated very easily, and take it out on your husband. Never your daughters though, never. You are so worried that your days with them are limited that you try to pack a lifetime worth of love into each day you have. You read to them as your vision blurs. You take them to the park as your limbs tremble. You hold them close in the night, and cry.

You picture your own death far too often. You’ve even gone as far as sprinting home from the park, looking over your shoulder, convinced the man in the white van was coming for you.

Your doctor listens attentively. When you finish, he produces more paper. Information on the emotional, cognitive and physical symptoms of anxiety and depression.

You read and realize you have been having almost all of them.

“This is not your fault. It is nothing you have done or not done. Things are imbalanced in your brain, but I can help you. It is going to be alright. ”

Tears spill onto your cheeks once again. You dab them with a mascara streaked tissue.
You listen as he discusses medication and counselling, and sigh deeply.


Humans have a great ability to lie. They can also tend to attention-seek, exaggerate, and be self absorbed.

I think it’s because of these things people often have trouble completely trusting someone when they say they feel sick, anxious, depressed, or are experiencing pain.

“Oh, it is just in your head.”


“Just stop dwelling on it, and you’ll feel better.”


“Some fresh air and exercise will shape you up in no time.”

They might say.

Although saying these things may be well intentioned, they are quite harmful. The person who has confided starts to doubt themselves, to blame themselves, to feel ashamed.

And they stop talking.

The best thing a person who suffers mental illness can do for themselves, is talk.

The best thing a person who listens can do, is say,

“I believe you.”

Be Brave, and Talk.
Be Brave, and Believe.

** stat on number of doctor visits obtained at www.nursingassistancentral.com