We don’t lay in bed because we are sad, we lay in bed because we feel hopeless. We lay there because there is nowhere else for our lifeless bodies to collapse.
Beds symbolize a place of comfort, warmth, safety and rest — which is true, but for the depressed, it’s also a place of sheer torment.
What no one mentions about staying in bed when you’re depressed:
The bed sores.
The tears.
The aches.
The restlessness.
The dissociation.
The noticeable dip in the mattress from the imprint of your body.
The messy hair.
The desperate nap fueled from pure mental exhaustion.
The fantasizing.
The crushing realization that those fantasies aren’t reality.
The sensation that feels like a toxic chemical flowing through you eating away at your ‘health.’
The tangled and sweaty sheets.
The fear someone will see you.
The judgment of others.
The deafening sound of silence.
The noticeably empty half of the bed.
The sad sight of the sun peeking in behind the blinds, knowing there’s life out there.
The heartbreaking & unrecognizable reflection of your face in your computer screen between episodes on Netflix.
The soft vibration of your phone notifying you that it’s been a while since you last worked out.
The feeling of loss of who you used to be.
The crumbs of food itching your skin.
The wet spot from the spilled drink.
The tossing. The turning.
The computer’s battery constantly dying.
The let down as you realize there is someone who could make this better for you.
The realization that that person is nowhere around.
The endless thoughts. Oh man, the endless thoughts.
The visions of death.
The ear pain from falling asleep on your headphones.
The rumination.
The nightstand full of cans & wrappers.
The darkness.
The despair.
The loneliness.
The “not today’s”
The shame.
The constant reminder that the world is moving on without you as you lay there, hopeless & in pain.
For us, laying in bed isn’t refreshing — it’s soul-sucking and depression breeding. It’s not because we’re lazy but because every last drop of our heart and soul has been tainted, and we need a place to lay our weighted body.
We only sleep because our brain collapses out of exhaustion as a result of its relentless and ruthless thoughts. But we don’t sleep, we shut down.
“Well if it’s so terrible, then why do you do it?”
Because it’s a sick trick that depression likes to play on us.
The idea of comfort, hope, rest and safety is so deeply desired that we fall for it each and every time out of pure desperation.
We naively hope for it just the same as a kid would waiting for the ice cream truck to finally come. But just because the ice cream truck’s music is playing, doesn’t mean it will come. And just because the bed looks like it can provide the comfort, rest, safety and warmth we need, doesn’t mean it will. The idea of that is so painfully devastating to us that we choose to hope instead.
But ultimately that lands us in bed which only exasperates our symptoms more due to the reasons listed above. The increasing pain we feel in bed validates who our depression wants us to be — creating a vicious cycle.
You see, it’s like a mirage, we see it as a sign of hope — a sign of hope that doesn’t exist once we get there. But by the time we realize that depression has already trapped us and sunk its teeth deep into our soul.
Compare it to a person stranded in the desert severely hydrated and burnt — if they saw water in the distance, don’t you think they’d walk to it?
Absolutely! That person would pull on all its willpower to get to that river despite being weak. It’s worth the pain because it means the suffering will be over soon. They will do whatever it takes because they are fighting for their life.
Yet when they get there, the river doesn’t exist — their mind played tricks on them. Now this person is even weaker, more hopeless, more dehydrated and eventually collapses and succumbs to Mother Earth’s unforgiving nature.
They thought they saw hope in a river; we think we see hope in our beds.
Just as the water is key for survival in the desert, hope is key in our survival. We’re truly fighting for our life but sometimes we get led astray due to the messages our disease has entrenched within us; which expends precious energy leaving us weak. Exactly how depression wants it.
Suffering from depression is one thing, but to actually try to overcome depression — well that’s another whole story. I see them as two very different phases with different pains, hurdles and struggles. Laying in bed is caused by our depression but getting out of it is overcoming it — because once we realize it’s just an illusion of comfort, rest, safety and hope — we’ll see the truth.
Yet don’t be fooled, that truth is buried deep and wrapped in sh*t. It is also incredibly hard to believe when your physical body is also genuinely tired. It’s truly a fine line between your body needing rest and your soul not being sucked into depression’s black hole. Discernment is muddied but your inner child is in there and will guide you.
Remember, depression is NOT a choice. Why would we choose to be kicked when we’re already down? But overcoming depression IS our choice. The hardest choice we may possibly ever make.
Depression is a master of illusion, a true magician but it’s no match for our willpower. It takes guts to overcome depression; it’s the furthest thing away from a cakewalk, but let’s redirect that misguided hope to fuel our comeback.
I hope that people can start to understand that just because someone is isolating all day in their room, they aren’t lazy — they very well could be enslaved and chained down to their own misery that’s disguised as an angelic cloud, or a fresh river in the desert. This person is fighting for their life — help them, rather than hinder them with judgment.
Don’t despair however, the strongest and wisest person you’ll ever meet is brewing deep inside that bed stricken body — and it’s coming out with a vengeance. Soon. Just wait.
You’ll get out of bed someday, and I will too. We always do. Leave the sheets, don’t make the bed — it doesn’t have to be pretty; we just have to put one toe down.
But for now, it’s OK. Lay that precious head down if you need to, you’ve been through a lot. Give yourself some compassion and know that a new day is coming.
