What does depression look (and feel) like?

Just came back from a research screening session for depression at the University of Washington. They’re testing iPad/iPhone video game(s) for their ability to help reshape the brain. (This is my hypothesis given that there are before and after MRIs.)

It was much longer than I expected … and the conversational history wasn’t that different from an intake session with a new therapist. Read that as HARD.

I am physically the most wrung out that I’ve been in a long time.

Now that I’m home … I’m trying to figure out what happened in August, other than my birthday, that might have been a trigger. Because either something happened that exacerbated my symptoms (post starting anti-depressant in June) or my brain can’t seem to go back before that for assessing symptoms.


I’ve not thought about what my depression might look or act like before now.

It feels like my depression, which has been with me for most of my adult life, is like walking a path that’s winding its way alongside a cliff face (sometimes as deep as the Grand Canyon).

At times, it is well-lit and bright, with guardrails and a nice slope to the bottom.

At other times, it’s narrow and windy with potholes and gaps in the rails and the drop is steeper. And sometimes it’s a narrow mud track with no rail, and I occasionally slip and find myself knee-deep in mud, unable to move.

So far, I’ve always caught myself before falling, but I’ve occasionally been stuck for a really long time.

Right now, I’m in spot where the path has narrowed but it’s still pretty well lit and not too rocky. This started before Katie’s health declined. There have been a few days in the last four weeks where it felt like the lights were out and I was also blindfolded, but those episodes have been relatively short – thanks to Lexapro, I’m certain.

The fact that I could spend an hour answering questions for a researcher without incessant crying is also a testament to Lexapro.

I’m ok – I’m not going to harm myself or someone else.

I’m sharing this because depression is one of the MANY things that we do not discuss enough in our culture, IMO.

Consequently, it’s an emotional state that can feel unique to the person experiencing it, making them feel abnormal and alone. I’m always impressed when a male friend speaks about depression because I think it’s even more taboo for a guy.

Peace. May this post help someone, some where.

Leave a Reply