Depression, the complex beast
Oct. 8th, 2025 02:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
arisoturaAnother personal post... this time to talk about depression and the relationship I've had to it throughout the years. I hope it will help you, reader, if you're also dealing with depression.
-
As far as I can remember, depression started for me around my puberty. Prior to that, I was pretty much living in my own world, and exercising a sort of denial to keep myself shielded from the ugly truths.
But there's also the intersection of trans stuff in there. Puberty was when I started getting those gender feels, which in a way, makes sense, as it was when I started being flooded with the wrong sex hormone.
Anyway, at that point, depression was a background noise for me. I had low self-esteem, felt disconnected from everything and everybody, felt lonely, had the feeling I wouldn't get anywhere in life.
There was also a pattern I exhibited where I would sometimes feel down because of something, feel the need to ruminate it for hours, and I would seek comfort and reassurance, but I wasn't able to receive any of it. It would turn into something draining and toxic, and sometimes lead to fights. There are deep rooted reasons behind this pattern, which I'm currently getting to.
The pattern wasn't new, but being fully depressed gave it a new dimension. Well, there were times where I was more absorbed into something and less depressed, but the baseline was there.
-
The first change I saw was when I started transitioning. The hormones made a night and day difference on my emotions. I was able to experience the full spectrum of human emotion. I felt that my emotions were more "how they should be", that I could feel and express them more easily, and also, that I had more control over them, which was interesting.
For example, if I was feeling good, I would smile naturally, which was unthinkable to me before - smiles had always felt forced to me.
But it works both ways. Depression was also more vivid, in a way. I remember the first time I felt down: I cried. I was shocked by that.
Over all, the change made me more whole, in a way. I have a trait which I consider very interesting - I'm very well connected to my inner world, and I know very well how I feel, and generally why. Obviously I don't know everything, but it's still a great help to introspection and in everyday life. Having access to my full emotional range can only improve this ability.
At the same time, depression is something that's so deep rooted that even that kind of ability isn't sufficient alone to deal with it. I lacked proper emotional and psychological frameworks to understand it and effectively act on it. There's a lot to be said about Western education, the overemphasis on external reality (concrete, material stuff) at the expense of your inner world (it's in your head, it's fake), or how we're never really taught how to deal with our emotions, how to get to know ourselves, ...
My view of depression at the time was that it was just how things were, it was part of my life, and I had no real power to change that. To me, it felt like an uphill battle: fighting depression with facts and logic, fighting deep impulses very hard, might occasionally work, but the next time it would strike harder. I felt that I had too little to actually prove depression wrong, which would supposedly get rid of it once and for all.
So it was largely just how things were, for me.
-
In 2021, I got an opportunity to try weed. Since I don't smoke, I decided to consume it in edible form. This is worth noting because ingesting weed this way yields different effects than smoking it - it lasts longer, and has more of a psychedelic vibe.
I quickly noticed that I felt different. I was consuming edibles about once a week, or less, but it seemed to be enough to lift the veil of depression. I felt lighter, happier and less plagued by the old depressive thoughts and rumination. I still avoided things I didn't feel confident about, but my mood baseline was elevated.
This led me to the realization that depression wasn't a permanent state, that things didn't have to be this way. I figured out that since my views of myself and the world were different, depression alters my perception. From this point, I was focused on beating depression by proving it wrong, or at the very least, keeping it at bay. You know, fake it until you make it.
This realization was important as it helped me feel empowered to act, and not just remain passive in a defeated state of mind. But it wasn't yet enough...
After a while, the antidepressant effect wore off, and depression tried to fight back harder and harder. The breakdowns would incapacitate me for one or two weeks. It didn't help that I ended up using drugs as an escape - from my own feelings, from boredom.
This doesn't go well. I remember a nightmare I had in March 2022, which was a very clear warning from my subconscious.
Following this, I took a break from weed for one month. I was abusing it at this point, and it had adverse effects. The break helped settle things, but the withdrawals combined with real life issues made for very intense depression bursts.
I took drugs again after this, but less often. The fact I had a job helped with moderation, too. But my mindset hadn't really changed. This ended with a very ugly breakdown in November 2022.
-
Following that breakdown, I started an antidepressant, venlafaxine. I had tried antidepressants before, but they never seemed to be efficient. I decided to try another one. The onboarding was rough, especially with the insomnia, but I was desperate, so I kept going.
I was also doing therapy, but before that, it felt like building a sand castle, which would be razed by the next wave of depression.
Venlafaxine was efficient. I felt good about myself, about things, my mood was good. I thought the therapy was finally working. I thought I had finally done it - I was defeating depression.
Except it only lasted about 5 months. Then one of the depression topics returned, followed by another. The dam had burst.
Following this, I thought I had to quit my antidepressant, and I did that. There was another reason for that: it didn't mesh well with Ritalin.
But the depression breakdowns returned. I wanted to cling to the idea that it was protracted withdrawals from venlafaxine, and that it would get better. But it did not get better. It only got worse, infact. I hadn't learnt any way to work with depression, and was solely relying on medicine, so that didn't work out.
-
Past that point, I was pretty defeated. Therapy didn't make a dent. Antidepressants only worked for 5 months.
I felt that I was just broken beyond repair. After all, if a concrete, radical solution like antidepressants failed, how was I to believe that anything else would work? I felt that my best option was to be on the medication merry-go-round for the rest of my life, which was unappealing.
Following some arguments with internet friends that went very poorly, I decided to try therapy again, with another therapist. But it felt similar to the last time, superficial therapy...
-
Things changed when someone told me about IFS therapy. At first, I felt conflicted about it. I thought the model explained things like inner polarization very well, and that it made a lot of sense. But I also thought that it wasn't going to work. After all, if a "real", "concrete" solution like antidepressants didn't work, it was hard to buy that talking to myself would make any change.
The change came with a shift in mindset.
Before, my view of depression was that it was an evil force, feeding from my past experiences to ruin my day, and that I had to vanquish it. I had the idea that depression had to be proven wrong, or at the very least, countered with logic. Unfortunately, it hasn't really worked: depression has its own logic, and even when proven wrong, it will find something else. Or figure out ways to tear down your achievements so they don't matter.
IFS views things differently. The basic idea is that your psyche is a group of different parts with different roles, sometimes extreme, but the parts all have good intentions. IFS provides ways to get in touch with those parts, gain their trust and help them out by providing what they need. There's more to it, but that's the gist of it.
So under this angle, depression isn't so much an evil force anymore. More like parts that are seeking your attention. Much like children, if you ignore them, they tend to get louder.
I find this view to also be very empowering. Now it's not about fighting myself very hard all the time, something which I've always felt was doomed to fail, instead it's about working with myself. IFS also gets to the root of things. In my experience, getting to understand myself has been invaluable. Instead of being like "why am I like this", I know why I am this way, I know that it makes sense, and I know how I can work on it without beating myself up.
But obviously, it's not always smooth. There are parts of me who are scared of what's deep inside, and who understandably try to halt the process. So it can take time to reassure them that it's going to be okay.
Regardless of this, I can already see improvements. My baseline mood isn't great these days, and real life stuff doesn't really help, but depression crises seem much less intense. I don't feel the need to ruminate negative thoughts for hours, or to seek out certain types of negative information. I feel more of an ability to connect with people, and I feel less lonely. That is definitely progress.
-
So that's been my history with depression... I hope to be able to continue improving, and I hope this post may be an inspiration to other people. You're not alone.
-
As far as I can remember, depression started for me around my puberty. Prior to that, I was pretty much living in my own world, and exercising a sort of denial to keep myself shielded from the ugly truths.
But there's also the intersection of trans stuff in there. Puberty was when I started getting those gender feels, which in a way, makes sense, as it was when I started being flooded with the wrong sex hormone.
Anyway, at that point, depression was a background noise for me. I had low self-esteem, felt disconnected from everything and everybody, felt lonely, had the feeling I wouldn't get anywhere in life.
There was also a pattern I exhibited where I would sometimes feel down because of something, feel the need to ruminate it for hours, and I would seek comfort and reassurance, but I wasn't able to receive any of it. It would turn into something draining and toxic, and sometimes lead to fights. There are deep rooted reasons behind this pattern, which I'm currently getting to.
The pattern wasn't new, but being fully depressed gave it a new dimension. Well, there were times where I was more absorbed into something and less depressed, but the baseline was there.
-
The first change I saw was when I started transitioning. The hormones made a night and day difference on my emotions. I was able to experience the full spectrum of human emotion. I felt that my emotions were more "how they should be", that I could feel and express them more easily, and also, that I had more control over them, which was interesting.
For example, if I was feeling good, I would smile naturally, which was unthinkable to me before - smiles had always felt forced to me.
But it works both ways. Depression was also more vivid, in a way. I remember the first time I felt down: I cried. I was shocked by that.
Over all, the change made me more whole, in a way. I have a trait which I consider very interesting - I'm very well connected to my inner world, and I know very well how I feel, and generally why. Obviously I don't know everything, but it's still a great help to introspection and in everyday life. Having access to my full emotional range can only improve this ability.
At the same time, depression is something that's so deep rooted that even that kind of ability isn't sufficient alone to deal with it. I lacked proper emotional and psychological frameworks to understand it and effectively act on it. There's a lot to be said about Western education, the overemphasis on external reality (concrete, material stuff) at the expense of your inner world (it's in your head, it's fake), or how we're never really taught how to deal with our emotions, how to get to know ourselves, ...
My view of depression at the time was that it was just how things were, it was part of my life, and I had no real power to change that. To me, it felt like an uphill battle: fighting depression with facts and logic, fighting deep impulses very hard, might occasionally work, but the next time it would strike harder. I felt that I had too little to actually prove depression wrong, which would supposedly get rid of it once and for all.
So it was largely just how things were, for me.
-
In 2021, I got an opportunity to try weed. Since I don't smoke, I decided to consume it in edible form. This is worth noting because ingesting weed this way yields different effects than smoking it - it lasts longer, and has more of a psychedelic vibe.
I quickly noticed that I felt different. I was consuming edibles about once a week, or less, but it seemed to be enough to lift the veil of depression. I felt lighter, happier and less plagued by the old depressive thoughts and rumination. I still avoided things I didn't feel confident about, but my mood baseline was elevated.
This led me to the realization that depression wasn't a permanent state, that things didn't have to be this way. I figured out that since my views of myself and the world were different, depression alters my perception. From this point, I was focused on beating depression by proving it wrong, or at the very least, keeping it at bay. You know, fake it until you make it.
This realization was important as it helped me feel empowered to act, and not just remain passive in a defeated state of mind. But it wasn't yet enough...
After a while, the antidepressant effect wore off, and depression tried to fight back harder and harder. The breakdowns would incapacitate me for one or two weeks. It didn't help that I ended up using drugs as an escape - from my own feelings, from boredom.
This doesn't go well. I remember a nightmare I had in March 2022, which was a very clear warning from my subconscious.
The dream was set in an odd, large building where I apparently lived.
I was on my way to my room, when this guy showed up. He knew I was waiting to receive drugs. He named the exact drugs I wanted to take. He added I was going to "take them with HDMI" -- I liked to play music on my TV while high, and the TV was connected to my laptop via a HDMI cable, so that was a reference to this.
I stopped in my tracks. He came right behind my back, pushing me in a "continue in your wrongdoings" way.
Then I turned and he was making a noose out of what seemed to be electrical cable (or HDMI cable? heh). At this point I had a clear feeling that this guy had special powers and the situation was bad.
I tried to run away. The hallway became completely dark. I felt my neck get caught in the noose.
Then I woke up in a distressed state of mind.
Following this, I took a break from weed for one month. I was abusing it at this point, and it had adverse effects. The break helped settle things, but the withdrawals combined with real life issues made for very intense depression bursts.
I took drugs again after this, but less often. The fact I had a job helped with moderation, too. But my mindset hadn't really changed. This ended with a very ugly breakdown in November 2022.
-
Following that breakdown, I started an antidepressant, venlafaxine. I had tried antidepressants before, but they never seemed to be efficient. I decided to try another one. The onboarding was rough, especially with the insomnia, but I was desperate, so I kept going.
I was also doing therapy, but before that, it felt like building a sand castle, which would be razed by the next wave of depression.
Venlafaxine was efficient. I felt good about myself, about things, my mood was good. I thought the therapy was finally working. I thought I had finally done it - I was defeating depression.
Except it only lasted about 5 months. Then one of the depression topics returned, followed by another. The dam had burst.
Following this, I thought I had to quit my antidepressant, and I did that. There was another reason for that: it didn't mesh well with Ritalin.
But the depression breakdowns returned. I wanted to cling to the idea that it was protracted withdrawals from venlafaxine, and that it would get better. But it did not get better. It only got worse, infact. I hadn't learnt any way to work with depression, and was solely relying on medicine, so that didn't work out.
-
Past that point, I was pretty defeated. Therapy didn't make a dent. Antidepressants only worked for 5 months.
I felt that I was just broken beyond repair. After all, if a concrete, radical solution like antidepressants failed, how was I to believe that anything else would work? I felt that my best option was to be on the medication merry-go-round for the rest of my life, which was unappealing.
Following some arguments with internet friends that went very poorly, I decided to try therapy again, with another therapist. But it felt similar to the last time, superficial therapy...
-
Things changed when someone told me about IFS therapy. At first, I felt conflicted about it. I thought the model explained things like inner polarization very well, and that it made a lot of sense. But I also thought that it wasn't going to work. After all, if a "real", "concrete" solution like antidepressants didn't work, it was hard to buy that talking to myself would make any change.
The change came with a shift in mindset.
Before, my view of depression was that it was an evil force, feeding from my past experiences to ruin my day, and that I had to vanquish it. I had the idea that depression had to be proven wrong, or at the very least, countered with logic. Unfortunately, it hasn't really worked: depression has its own logic, and even when proven wrong, it will find something else. Or figure out ways to tear down your achievements so they don't matter.
IFS views things differently. The basic idea is that your psyche is a group of different parts with different roles, sometimes extreme, but the parts all have good intentions. IFS provides ways to get in touch with those parts, gain their trust and help them out by providing what they need. There's more to it, but that's the gist of it.
So under this angle, depression isn't so much an evil force anymore. More like parts that are seeking your attention. Much like children, if you ignore them, they tend to get louder.
I find this view to also be very empowering. Now it's not about fighting myself very hard all the time, something which I've always felt was doomed to fail, instead it's about working with myself. IFS also gets to the root of things. In my experience, getting to understand myself has been invaluable. Instead of being like "why am I like this", I know why I am this way, I know that it makes sense, and I know how I can work on it without beating myself up.
But obviously, it's not always smooth. There are parts of me who are scared of what's deep inside, and who understandably try to halt the process. So it can take time to reassure them that it's going to be okay.
Regardless of this, I can already see improvements. My baseline mood isn't great these days, and real life stuff doesn't really help, but depression crises seem much less intense. I don't feel the need to ruminate negative thoughts for hours, or to seek out certain types of negative information. I feel more of an ability to connect with people, and I feel less lonely. That is definitely progress.
-
So that's been my history with depression... I hope to be able to continue improving, and I hope this post may be an inspiration to other people. You're not alone.
