The unseen Victims of Depression…hearing their song


why…..why…..why..I don’t understand

When you look at the title, and then picture at the head of this post what do you see?

Clearly it is lady who is maybe in her 20’s.She is deep in thought, she is supporting her head with one hand, and her down cast eyes and thoughtful pose is indicative that something might be wrong.

Ok, 2 +2 at least makes 4 if not 22, so putting all such things together, it might be supposed that she is one of the many individuals around us that are plagued by depression.

After all, if that is not so, then why is she pictured here?

Well, such a supposition would be right…yet she is not a depressive, and she does not have such a condition

She represents all those who have to live with and deal with depression, and all those who lie outside of such a condition, but who, through love or friendship with or of a  depressive, still yearn to know how to help, and to find out what is going on

Up until now with my posts on Dealing with Depression, and it’s related project, Dealing with the blues, I have largely concentrated on giving support to those suffering from depression, but in this post want to move outwards from such a position so as to raise awareness of the plight of those living with or around a depressive.

Those poor devils whose voice is often ignored or simply unheard.

This is often a poor reward for their love and affection, so maybe it is time that the tables were turned.

If you as a depressive were forced to look at those who cared for you, really cared for you, what do you think you might see?

The chances are you might well see emotions that you yourself are very much aware off, but mirrors are strange things as left becomes right, and you see a reflection which is effectively the other side of a coin.

Anger, despair, hopelessness, frustration, fear and failure; oh yes, you’ll see all of these things, and the rest besides, but maybe we, as depressive, should remember one critical thing.

Sometimes we know what is causing our depression, and once in that terrible world, we can at least recognise some of the surroundings in which we find ourselves. The poor devils who care for us are only looking in.

They cannot understand us, they cannot reach us, unless they are very lucky, and if they are unlucky they find themselves sucked into a swirling vortex that they can never understand


waiting…waiting…and waiting

How do I know this, because my long suffering mother, on watching me leaving her house as I came to the Isle of Man, never knew whether, after that holiday was due to finish, she would see me alive again; and because on too may evenings she watched in desperation as I silently stared into the open coal fire

“I didn’t know whether I would ever see you or speak to you again!”

She told me on my return to London

” I didn’t know how, when, where, or if you might try to end everything, and I didn’t know who would be standing outside, or what message they might bring, when I heard a knock on the door!”

Sure I smashed into a mental brick wall when the reality of warmth and friendship got through to me. Sure my hand ran on and off the edge of a pool table because my mind and body were totally out of control, and , sure I was in so much of a mess that I could barely hear or understand various people who tried to comfort me, but I was lucky, as I knew I was alive

How else do I now? Well what of my wife who has never truly got used to my sense of failure and my chronic insecurities, and my rare but unpleasant bouts of depression even to this day; and what of the days when even now, I push her love to one side

Neither my wife nor my mother can fully understand the full depth of my depression, and I, even if I really wanted to, I cannot take them there. Take them to the edge of the pit maybe, tell them what to do when I am down there, and how to reach me as and when I emerge from the other side; but that is all.

It is not their fault I suffer from depression, it is not their fault that I very nearly ended my life prematurely, and it certainly isn’t their fault that I’m sometimes lost in a world that they cannot understand.

So it is that this post is dedicated to the unseen victims of depression, all the unseen victims, wherever they may be, and in doing so I offer them one other service which I hope that some might use to the full

I have stated that the special project, Dealing with the blues is a support project for those who suffer from depression and for their carers, but on this occasion I want to re-emphasise the options open for carers or for anyone who loves or cares for someone with depression. It is a very lonely world you live in at times, so just as this project is here to offer support to anyone suffering from depression, it is also here for all you poor souls who have to live or work with us, so wherever you are, that includes you

Whether by comment, or, in time by post as a contributor or author, this is your project as much as anyone elses, so please let me know if you would like to come on board

As sufferers we need your voice, and we need your feedback, just as you need us to open up to you, as by joining forces, there is a chance, through mutual understanding, that all of our lives might improve

That’s all for this folks, but take care of yourselves wherever you are, and as ever, with this section, I leave you with a relaxation video which I hope you will enjoy

Oh yes, if you wish to contact me personally, please feel free to use the form below


Categories: Dealing with Depression, Dealing with the Blues, Special Projects

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