By Jessica Homann, Guest Writer
In my early to mid 20’s, I was depressed.
Not weepy, sleepy, anxiety riddled depressed; rather, my depression showed up as broad sweeping apathy and indifference. My emotions were voided out; I floated through things - work and home life - but I wasn’t present. I walked around, thin and flimsy, like a piece of shaded gray and black paper, waiting to be blown by a heavy wind so I could feel something. Anything.
One day, during my depression, I was driving the curvy back roads of my small town and took a sharp turn way too fast. As I righted myself - calmly and muted, I might add, not with any sense of urgent action - I took note of the trees my car would have slammed into before falling off the edge of a steep precipice, where it may have taken quite some time to find me.
I did not experience the heart pounding adrenaline of a “close call,” the kind that wakes you up, makes you sit a little straighter, grip the wheel tighter. Instead, I had been completely comfortable with the idea - a very clear, agreeable image, at the time - of missing that turn.
I went on to spend years in therapy and it absolutely saved me.
I didn’t need medication or any alternative treatment, but some people do. And some day, that might be me.
Maybe you identify with this because you have felt some version of it, or love someone who has.
Or maybe you have no way of personally/directly relating to what I described.....but I’m still betting you know (maybe love) someone who does.
Either way, I implore you to watch comic Gary Gulman’s, The Great Depresh.
His vulnerability, humor, and honesty normalize depression - not in the way that minimizes or waters it down, but helps others understand (and have hope). He is using his voice, his experience, and his talent for good; The Great Depresh will save lives.
Oh, and stick around for the terrific song during the credits.
In fact, just stick around.