My playroom in preschool had an empty wheelchair for us to play with. It was usually occupied; everyone wanted to play in it because it was different. Even at four or five years old I was aware of the power it brought about. I eyed it carefully, always aware of who sat in it and the mock sympathetic comments that person received.
“Sara, what happened?”
“Were you in an accident?”
“Do you need me to push you?”
“Are you okay?”
I remember finally catching it empty one day and I rushed to sit in it. Everything looked different to me and everyone seemed to notice. After one person chimed in with the usual sympathy, I stepped out of the chair because I didn’t deserve their kindness. Yet I still looked longingly at the next kid who sat in the chair. I didn’t want to stand out as needy, but I felt crippled.
Oh, despair…
Sometimes when I tell people that I’m living on disability payments they say, “Oh, what’s your disability?!” Sometimes the tone is purely surprised, and other times it has a joking ring to it. When I say that my disability is mainly depression, they always look puzzled.
Now I know why I envied people in wheelchairs as a kid: people generally are a lot more accepting of pain or impairment if it’s visible. If I were in a wheelchair, I bet I’d rarely ever get the question, “Oh, what’s your disability?”
People in wheelchairs undoubtedly get rude comments, they get stigmatized, and have their own list of battles as a result of their condition. Being disabled in any way guarantees that people screw you over. But to my child’s mind, I wished I could have the simplicity of support I perceived surrounding our playschool wheelchair. I didn’t know how to explain my pain to the world and I needed a metaphor to hang on to.
I understand my pain better now that I’m older. I’m accepting of my pain now. If someone asks I will tell them that my depression makes my life hard to live. Depression affects my thinking and my energy and my engagement in life. It affects my appetite and my sleep. It gives me headaches and stomach-aches.
To continue living I’ve had to relearn everything. I’ve had to stop beating up on myself for feeling depressed. I’ve had to learn to be kind to myself. I’ve had to learn to be patient with myself and with life.
Karen O of Yeah Yeah Yeahs has the most perfect voice. It is innocent, adorable, raw and pure.Yesterday I watched the music video for Yeah Yeah Yeahs’ Despair track. It captures my experience with depression, despair, and rebuilding my life. There is hope. It’s a battle, but there is hope and a future for all of us.
Trigger warning for violence and upsetting themes. The first full minute is this one guy getting beat up, but it’s a metaphor for the rest of the video. If it makes you queasy, skip ahead to 1:25.
I love it when artists capture the pain of life alongside the pleasure of life. Both Daisies and Bruises. Here’s the lyrics:
Yeah Yeah Yeahs ~ Despair
Don’t despair, you’re there
From beginning, to middle, to end
Don’t despair,
You’re there through my wasted days
You’re there through my wasted nightsOh despair, you’ve always been there
You’ve always been there
You’ve always been there
You’re there through my wasted years
Through all my lonely fears, no tears
Run through my fingers, tears
They’re stinging my eyes, no tearsIf it’s all in my head there’s nothing to fear
Nothing to fear inside
Through the darkness and the light
Some sun has got to riseMy sun is your sun
My sun is your sun
My sun is your sun
My sun is your sunYour sun is our sun
Your sun is our sun
Your sun is our sun
Your sun is our sunMy sun is your sun
My sun is your sun
My sun is your sun
My sun is your sunYour sun is our sun
Your sun is our sun
Your sun is our sun
Your sun is our sunOh despair, you were there through my wasted days
You’re there through my wasted nights
You’re there through my wasted years
You’re there through my wasted lifeYou’ve always been there
You’ve always been there
You’ve always been there
There through my wasted years
Through all of my lonely fears, no tears
Run through my fingers, tears
They’re stinging my eyes, no tears
We’re all on the edge, there’s nothing to fear
Nothing to fear insideThrough the darkness and the light
Some sun has got to riseMy sun is your sun
My sun is your sun
My sun is your sun
My sun is your sunYour sun is our sun
Your sun is our sun
Your sun is our sun
Your sun is our sunSome sun has got to rise
My sun is your sun
My sun is your sun
My sun is your sun
My sun is your sunYour sun is our sun
Your sun is our sun
Your sun is our sun
Your sun is our sunSome sun has got to rise
Why do I write when I could become a therapist and earn a steady pay cheque? Because before speaking to any therapist about anything, I go to the library. Books are my number one therapist.
