The Face of Depression Doesn't Discriminate

The face of depression is a happy one. The face of depression is sad ... it's shocked, it's delighted, it's a confused face. The face of depression is a surprised face ... it's angry, dauntless, it's a grumpy face. The face of depression is that of your friend, your neighbor, your spouse. It is the face of your child's teacher, your hairdresser, your priest ... your son, your daughter, your boss, your employer. The face of depression looks like the everyday face and it is everywhere, you just may not know it.

Depression Doesn't Discriminate: It Affects Over 10% of Us

Statistics is North America, whether in the U.S. or Canada, are pretty much the same. More than 10% of the population have (or will) suffer from a mental illness in their lifetime. If they don't suffer from one themselves, one in five people in their circles is suffering.

As someone who suffers from depression, I am the one in five. I walk in and out of people's lives, most of whom have no idea that I suffer from depression.

Depression Doesn't Discriminate and It's Invisible

Over the years I've gotten very good at hiding it. Hiding in plain sight, as it were. I have worn all the faces; happy, sad, confused, dauntless, delighted, angry, grumpy... and more. I look like anybody else. A person looking at me wouldn't have a clue what's going on inside.

Pick your poison: one of these depression wars is taking place inside me, inside your friends, right now:

The battle; the constant tug-of-war between how I feel and how I look like I feel.

The stress of battle; the constant worry that somebody is going to figure out my dirty little secret.

Injured in battle; the inevitability of hitting rock bottom.

Recovering from battle; getting the much needed treatment for my depression.

Helping others with their battle; helping to educate people about depression.

While it is far from easy, I have also begun talking about my depression openly. I told my family right away, over a decade ago. Close friends came next, some right away, others took years. I recently told a couple of coworkers. I try to talk about it more often, to be open, to help educate. To be part of the solution, to end the stigma of depression and mental illness.

The face of depression looks like anybody else's face. It is my face. It is your face. We are no more, no less than anybody else. If you don't have mental illness, you invariably know someone who does, whether you realize it or not. We ... you and I ... are the face of mental illness.