What about me?

How admitting I was depressed started my healing.

Unlike my usual memories, I can’t recall what I was wearing. I imagine this is because, typically, what I am wearing plays a role in my comfort. At this moment, I could have been wearing my comfiest cozies, and I wouldn’t have felt comfortable.

I can’t remember the specifics of the conversation I was having with my manager, but I do remember the door was shut, and I was choking back tears. The walls felt like they were closing in on me, and the feeling of being suffocated was pressing in as well. My manager was asking me to get on board. There was a change happening at work, a change no one felt particularly fantastic about, and I was not jumping in like the team player I usually am.

I recall a weak attempt at self-reflection and self-talk to get myself to fall in line, and at this moment, a new question bubbled to the surface: What about me? Without a second thought, I felt the words spill out of my mouth, a plea with not only the manager but with the world around me: “For just a minute, can we acknowledge that I am a human being, having a very human experience and very human emotions? Can we take a minute to acknowledge that, to acknowledge that how I feel matters?”

She stopped and stared, and I stopped and wondered where this vulnerability (that didn’t already have the psychology and well-thought-out reason behind it) came from. Then, the truth that burned on the way up, the truth that was wrapped in shame, guilt, and confusion, came marching out. I am struggling; I am depressed. Things outside of work, things inside of work, and everything else are too much. She immediately switched her persona, one that I knew deep down cared but was also laced with her asking right back; what about me?

After a few careful words of support and solution offered, the conversation shifted. I was able to add some insight to the current work situation because, as I learned at that moment, depression makes you depressed, not dumb. The insight spoke of the current state of affairs at work. I offered a valid solution that had been shared with others and wholly supported. Suddenly, and without warning, my words of vulnerability I shared moments ago were thrown into my face as though they immediately erased my knowledge and experience.

From deep within my soul, I felt a part of myself awaken; I felt the power of anger surge within me—the beautiful kind of anger that forces you to make promises to yourself and take action. The anger in the moment removed a layer of guilt about considering myself at the same time as I considered everyone else. I was done having what was leftover from my “pie of life.” I would now be the one holding the knife and deciding who got which piece. Most importantly, I would ask, “What about me?” and know I am worthy of the answer and action.