Depressed Doesn't Mean Weak

by Sofia Blue
Sep 10, 2017
4 min read

I was doing my things when I remembered a painful memory. I lost someone I considered a true friend because she couldn’t accept that I have depression. She was my maid of honour, so you can imagine how much of a dear friend she was.

But that afternoon on my terrace in my hometown I didn’t see a friend. I saw a stranger. But before I tell you more about this story, I need to tell you who she is as a person, and what I was when we were studying in the same class in high school…

I studied in a very prestigious school - the best in the country. But unlike other systems around the world, back home it didn’t matter how much money you have as it is a public school and you enter by passing really hard exams. Competition was fierce. But I did it. And it took a lot. In fact, so much that I couldn’t start the year in my new school because I got seriously ill. It was basically possible that I could die.

Anyway, I went to school after 4 months pass the beginning of the school year and I managed to catch up and make friends. I was always an A student. I was among the smartest in the school and all teachers loved me. As you can imagine, my friend, let’s call her Liz, only saw me at my best. Liz was another one of the smartest. I always admired her - super intelligent, ambitious, beautiful, resourceful, speaking 3 languages at the age of 16 (now they are 5). She is a very good hearted person, very genuine and compassionate. So compassionate that she started dating a guy who she felt sorry for because he was madly in love with her. And then he broke her heart. His confidence got so high that he was referring to himself as "God". And I'm not exaggerating! Crazy, I know...

Years later we lost contact. Until today I keep in touch with my other girlfriends from school but Liz was different. She entered university and started working immediately. With all her talents and drive she got up the ladder pretty fast and didn’t take long before she dropped out of uni. She disappeared. We rarely ever heard from her. But in my heart I always had love and aspiration for her. My other friends were pissed at her but I knew she is doing what she loves and wants, so who am I to judge…

At uni I was under incredible pressure - I worked two jobs while studying Law at the best university in my country and at an international school at the same time. And I had my heart broken. Then, I met my now husband and had to deal with distance of 10 000km between us for 2 years. But I fought hard. Eventually, of course, I collapsed. It was really bad. That was about 8 years ago and is when my depression destroyed me. I couldn’t deal with life. Oh man…. Just thinking about all of this makes me want to cry AND vomit!

At the end of the day things got a bit better for me. I started therapy, pills and had huge support from my family (which by the way didn’t come easily with my parents). When we decided to marry I asked her to be my maid of honor. We kept somewhat in touch during the years and this was a way for me to try to get close to her again.

The wedding was amazing, she helped me so much, everything was great, we were close again. Until I told her about my depression. I will never forget her eyes. She was looking at me with so much frustration, disappointment, and even disgust. She started shouting at me, while I was crying after pouring my soul out. And I didn’t even tell her 50% of the pain that was inside me all these years. Liz kept repeating: “You are not that weak, get yourself together, you cannot really be serious". Then she got up and left my house. Without saying goodbye, without making an eye contact.

That was not even the most heartbreaking part. I knew it was a lot to take for her. I know it is not an easily acceptable topic. It is hard to realize all the pain I have been through. Even more so, considering she knew me as that tough girl who never stops and always aims at the top. I knew she needed time. So I gave it to her. She didn’t reach out to me for more than 6 months. Not a single word. And all of a sudden she texted me saying she wants to talk and “fight it out if we have to”. Fight it out? Does she seriously believe we can “fight out” this conversation? She expects what - for me to say sorry I am depressed? Sorry I let you down?

Even despite that I decided to give it a try so I texted her when I got back to my hometown. She got back to me saying she was working and has no time. Unbelievable. I still haven't seen her. That was two years ago. It is clear to me - it is all about priorities and I am not a priority for her at the end of the day.

Well Liz… You are not a priority for me either. You are simply an example of one of the many people who don't want to hear about depression. You are one of those who think they are strong because they don't let themselves feel down. For you, depressed are only the weak ones. But you are wrong, Liz. I am strong. Depressed doesn’t mean weak. It means I have the courage to face my demons on a daily basis. To win my struggles and challenge my urge to perish every. single. day! Can you face your darkest thoughts? Can you face your monsters? Can you stop for a minute and ask yourself who you are and why you are? I can. I do. And that is why I am so much stronger than you will ever be.

I'm a fucking lion!