Flawed perfection

Kat Dart

(9/2012) I talked to a close friend of mine a few days ago. We met once, about a year and two months ago at an SAT test. We became very fast friends, and though we haven’t seen each other since then we have kept in contact through text and facebook. She told me a lot about herself, including her struggle with depression, and how she was slowly but surely pulling herself out of her dark hole.

I personally believe she’s perfect in every way possible. Flawed perfection the best kind there is. Flawed perfection, where cracks and fissures are the true beauty of the piece, and what make it so powerful.

So this month is dedicated to Tori, a person who I am so proud to call a friend.

There are three collisions in a car crash.

One car collides with an object. The force of the collision begins to crush the car.

The passengers inside the car are still moving even after the car crashes. Because of that, human bodies (and inanimate objects) will fly until they hit a force that stops them, like seatbelts, windows, the dashboard.

Finally, the organs inside a human body are still moving forward even after the car has stopped, and the body has stopped. The organs stop moving when they have hit the skeleton.

It is common to feel stiffness for twenty four hours after a crash, not including bruising or other bodily injury.

Depression can be described as a number of things. It’s, first and foremost, an emotional crash. Events stack up. Stress and reality piles on top of each other. Collision one.

All these events, they make a person feel repressed and hopeless until they can’t see the light at the end of the tunnel anymore. Not being able to see a way out just pushes a person down further. Collision two.

And finally, when the freefall starts, and won’t end, when everyone around becomes aware -something isn’t right- that is collision three, where the lasting damage occurs.

Ninth grade made depression sound so simple. Someone seems to be depressed. Look for the signs. Tell an adult, tell a guidance councilor. Easy. Tell someone else, problem goes away. It’s not yours to deal with anymore.

It’s so much more complicated than that. There’s no telling when a depression started, there’s no telling when it will end. There’s no telling whether or not interference is needed, whether or not being a standing presence will help or hurt.

Depression is, above everything else, a parasite. Depression is far-reaching, it hits everyone close to the host. It eats away at everyone’s mind, causing more worry and more stress. It’s painful to go through, and it’s almost as painful to watch. Throughout the past three years, I have met and made friends with a lot of people dealing with depression.

Throughout the past three years, I have watched as friends succumb to their own internal shadows. Through luck and guardian angels, all I have known have lived to continue their uphill-downhill coaster, trying to deal with their heavy emotions and encompassing fears.

Some of my friends, I worry that one day I’ll find out, through some social network, that they succumbed to the darkness and decided to stop trying.

When they stop texting me back at night, I worry that they’re never going to text again.

When they tell me how they wish they had died when some major event happens, I die a little more inside.

There comes a point where it seems that there is nothing anyone can do to help. That all an outsider can do is watch as their friend falls. It’s like a train wreck – you can’t look away, can’t block it from your mind, but you can’t help either.

I may not know personally, but I know enough to say – depression is hard. It’s not something to ever joke about, to ever make light of.

I don’t know who reads this paper. I don’t know what they’ve been going through, what they’ve gone through, what their circumstances are. I don’t know what they believe in, whether they think there’s a higher power out there or some pre-destined force controlling life.

I do know enough to say, even in the darkest hour – there is someone who cares for you. Someone who wants to look out for you. Even at the darkest point of your life, there is always a better way to deal with any problem.

So I will say this: There’s always a way. It just needs to be looked for. And life does get better. Sometimes it just needs a shove.