Edited by Avleen Grewal
Depression is a difficult thing. We’ve all come to know it. It is insidious and overwhelming and incessant. Adults all around the world face it. However, depression is not just a problem for adults. It is a growing concern for children, tweens, and teens alike. A study conducted by PhD Dr. Heller estimates that anywhere in between 10 and 15 percent of adolescents suffer from depression. Adolescence in itself is a tricky time, with hormones and puberty intermingling emotion and confusion and curiosity together. Add in depression to the mix, and it can be a rocky road to adulthood.
Unfortunately, while people dealing with depression are becoming increasingly aware, a third of those who are chronically depressed go untreated, with the numbers likely skewing higher. People have the perception that depression is a one-trick-pony; that depression is only running mascara and darkness and loud cries and isolation and the inability to go to class. While it can take these forms, it has less obvious signs and symptoms. As a result, teens possess the internalized stigma of not wanting to be classified as ‘depressed’.
In middle school, I came to grips with the reality that I was depressed. As a young girl, it took a lot of exploring and understanding to come to that conclusion. I didn’t know whether what I was feeling was normal, whether I was a ‘problem’, or whether I could be fixed. Researching didn’t help that much, with a Google search for “depression” giving me a plethora of lists including WebMD symptoms and technical jargon I found even more confusing. Having an open conversation with people my age seemed too dramatic, and having an open conversation with people older than me seemed too embarrassing. So I had to find another way to cope.
This came in the form of writing. Poetry, prose, fiction, journal entries, any form of writing helped. It was like writing an open letter to myself, where I could not be judged or criticized or wrong. In poetry, I was allowed to be confused, I was allowed to ask questions, and I was allowed to feel whatever I was feeling. It helped me articulate my intrusive thoughts into a coherent string of words when I found speaking about them impossible. And I found out that I wasn’t the only one to find it helpful. As my personal project in high school, I started a group called “Poetry for Applause” which aimed at using poetry as a form of catharsis for students at school. It allowed for a safe space for students to write and present what they were feeling in front of an audience of other students. Poetry, writing and reading it, really does help. It has been a medium of expression for centuries, and I believe its expressiveness is what makes it appealing to teens. It is easier empathizing with depression and recognizing it as a part of your life if it is in verse instead of Wikipedia articles. This is why I believe adolescents should be exposed to more poetry about depression, namely what I call “Depression by Dr. Seuss.”
It was too wet to play.
So I sat in the house.
All that cold, cold, wet day.
I looked at the door,
And the white on the wall.
I looked at my book,
And read nothing at all.
So all I could do was
Sit!
Sit!
Sit!
I didn’t like it at all.
I didn’t like it one bit.
This is no time for fun.
This is no time for games.
There is work to be done.
It gets really hard,
When you’re a grown up.
It gets really easy,
For work to pile up.
Each task takes longer,
Because I have to fight.
Every single thought,
Depression brings to light.
And memory chooses,
To keep negativity.
Not all the knowledge,
That’s exciting to me.
It’s hard being sad.
It doesn’t go away.
You just need to learn,
To survive every day.
Every day,
Every hour.
It takes a lot of power.
To get out of bed,
And go take a shower.
Sometimes it’s even hard,
To do what I like.
When I plan for my day.
I don’t know if it’ll strike.
It comes to classes.
It follows my friends.
It lingers at lunchtime.
It never ends!
So I make up a bowl,
And sit down to eat.
But each bite is heavy,
So I sit in defeat.
Eating ice cream is easier.
Chicken nuggets too.
But even those taste like nothing,
When I’m feeling blue.
It gets better some days,
People shut it out.
But once they’re gone,
Depression opens its mouth.
Happiness feels temporary.
It can postpone the sad.
And the numb and the emptiness,
I knew I always had.
Depression takes forms,
Of things that remain.
Numbness and Pain.
I keep them in a box.
I keep them locked away.
But when they get out.
Chaos is underway.
There are aids I rely on:
Movies and books,
And music and hobbies,
And pictures I took.
Talk! It can help,
Write all the time!
Depression is easier,
If you trap it in rhymes.
If you get it all out,
In verse or paint or song.
Then dealing with the sadness,
Doesn’t take very long.
I sit!
sit!
sit!
sit!
I don’t like it at all.
I don’t like it one bit.
But I start with what’s easy.
I live bit by bit.
Recovery is slow,
But impossible to quit.
And depression doesn’t stop,
Giving hit after hit.
So I still eat ice cream,
I still throw fits.
It’s difficult to say,
But I cannot deny.
Depression will remain,
Until the day I die.
But that doesn’t mean,
I’m doomed from day one.
With enough love and progress,
Life will still be fun.
And happiness would have won…
UofT has a wide variety of mental health services. If you or anyone you know are suffering from depression, reach out to at least one of the support systems found here or here. Seek the help you need, depression should not be fought alone.