The Conflict of being an Extrovert with Depression

Despite the title, I'll say now that I'm more of an inverted extrovert; I like going out, spending time with people, but I also love to curl up with a good book or write now and again.

I am both sides of the coin, but I favour the loud, chatty, let’s-dance-to-Shakira side as I thrive off other people’s energy.

Therefore it probably isn't surprising that (looking back) when I had depression I didn't know what it was and didn't understand it until several years later.

I was formally diagnosed with depression at 19 and my therapist said that (from what I'd explained) I'd been depressed for the past three to four years. I was shocked.

I'd done my GCSE's in that time, gone to university, made new friends, been on nights out. I couldn't be depressed, right?

My initial reaction was that I didn't want it. I wanted to get rid of it and get as far away from it as humanly possible. I told very few people about the diagnosis, perhaps just my Mum and boyfriend at the time and then I never saw that particular therapist again.

It isn't something that you can run away from, but it was the beginning of being able to identify why I did certain things that didn't feel or seem like me.

In sixth form I missed a considerable amount of school. My mornings would consist of being unable to get out of bed and telling my Mum I wasn't going to school, which was met with a lot of resistance (understandably).

On most of these occasions my Mum would send me to school, otherwise I'd stay home and eventually get up to revise.

I remember I wanted to be invisible. I wanted people to forget that I existed so I could have some peace and do whatever I needed to do to feel better. No responsibilities or rigid school timetables, just a pocket of time and space outside of the every day to just be.

I didn't know why I couldn't get up. I felt sad, I really struggled to be normal at school and talk about my day, my lessons, how I felt. I didn't mean to push people away, but it happened as a result of my behaviour and as I didn't notice until about a year later that I was effectively the issue it was too late to repair a good proportion of those friendships.

Yet, some of my friendships grew during that time.

We'd sit together and either I'd listen and laugh along with the conversation, or we'd complain about life. I had a varied group of friends and no one ever tried to be anything other than themselves and I appreciated that. We were all different, but that was what made us happy.

The worst thing about having depression is that you aren't yourself when you're depressed.

I think of myself (and have been described as) bubbly or vibrant. I was a smiley, happy child eager to do everything and anything, I was as busy as a child can be with drama groups, singing groups, scouts, camps, rehearsals, dancing, swimming (the list could go on and on).

So getting depression was something I didn't see coming and had no idea what the hell it was and neither did my family.

We all coped differently after my Dad's death, but I was the only one who struggled to be normal and go to school, make it through lessons, concentrate, connect with people. This only added to my guilt as I physically couldn't do what they did.

I didn't know if it was because I was weaker or I made it worse, it was as though I was standing a few steps away from myself watching it happen but being unable to stop it. I had a lot of self-loathing at this time as I didn't like who I was or what I did when I was depressed and I didn't think that people would believe me or know that I was different as it happened for so long.

Thankfully my depression improved over the course of university. It had low points as all university experiences do, but it was a time of emotional growth and personal reflection.

Being an extrovert with depression is hard to explain and it's often met with anger either at myself or by others as no one can understand why you don't want to do things you'd normally love.

I just felt like I couldn't or didn't have the energy to do and I didn't really know why, it was how I felt and it was very hard to resist it at times.

Breaking through that feeling took a lot of work and a lot of forcing myself to go to things that I didn't feel like doing at the time, because I knew that I'd feel 1000 times better for going than cancelling.

It's a long road, but the more I did it, the more I went, the more I felt like myself, the bubbly sociable Jess. Not Jess with depression.

Having depression is like watching your life happen around you. You know you're a different person on the inside to what the depression is making you do, but it's so hard to bring the real you to the outside.

I wouldn't suggest to fake it till you make it, but definitely push through it. Go to things that you don't feel like, reach out when you feel down or lost, try to connect in a small way or do something that feels like a step for you.

For me, the main thing that helped was talking about it. First to my counsellor, then to my Mum and then to my friends. My friends have often commented how open I am now to when I first met them, I'm more me than I perhaps was before, but they've always been my friend regardless of if I'm down or not.

Published originally on my blog, www.jessicakatie.com