Just a shell.

"Depression" is a word I don't even like to use, because many people completely fail to comprehend it. They think depression is just sitting around feeling sorry for yourself. But it goes so much deeper than that, to places in the mind and heart that they themselves fear to explore or have never even discovered. For me, it is being utterly empty and defeated by life. Not feeling--being. It is my reality, and nothing save mind-altering substances--which I reject in every form--can alter my perception of it.

My family can't help. My father scarred me for life with his anger issues and now lives far away. We haven't spoken in seven years. My mother is generous in her way but almost entirely without empathy. She has never once validated my feelings or attempted to understand me. All she can do is coach and lecture me. "Be your own cheerleader," she says. That's so phony. And it's the complete opposite of everything she, my father, and my Catholic school told me when I was a child. Now I have permission to feel good about myself? Why couldn't I be allowed to feel good about myself back then? How can you treat someone like a burden for all those years and expect them to snap out of it later? What sick, hypocritical people.

If there's anything that pleases me, it's that I'm not like them. When a "normal" person cries, it's merely because they're sad. It's just a stage they're going through. Eventually it passes and then they feel better. It seems somehow cheap and inauthentic. When I cry, you're seeing the real me; the pain I have to hide almost every day, sometimes even from myself. It means I'm taking a break from the mask. It means that I see life itself for the sad, empty charade that it is. As long as I'm alive myself, I am crying. It's just a matter of whether I do it inside or out.

I don't need pills and I don't need a life coach. I need somebody to listen to me. That's why I go to a therapist. Not to be "cured," but to have someone I can talk to without having to sugar-coat things and hide what I'm feeling. I may be just a shell, but at least I am aware and accepting of it.

Most people who never experienced depression have this idea that it means "oh yes I had a break up a while ago and I cried for five days and listened to Nick Cave a lot but then I got better" or "yeah I get those sad days too when it's raining and I don't have nutella at home". To me depression isn't even related to sadness. It's emptiness. It's having a gaping hole inside me that is full of nothing. Our parents can be particularly bad at interacting with us because they have a subconscious feeling they did something wrong. "You aren't feeling SO bad honey are you? Look at the bright side of life!" No, mom. I am actually feeling worse than I told you. It's not your fault. But please stop. – That's how I feel, of course, I might be misreading you here.

I know you are against meds and I respect that, but they really can help. Won't say more.