It’s easy to assume that Depression, aka Major Depression, aka Clinical Depression, is a lot like being depressed. Everyone knows what that feels like, after all. The disappointment, the sadness. Everybody gets the blues.

But no. Major Depression is completely different.

“Sadness” is not quite the right word for the feeling. In my experience, it’s a big jumble of feelings — and none of them are good.

For starters, everything has a sense of futility to it. Everything feels pointless, guaranteed to go down in flames and end in failure, so why bother doing anything at all? All roads lead to despair. A black cloud hovers over your head and stubbornly refuses to leave.

You also feel paralyzed by apathy. You don’t want to get out of bed. You don’t want to talk to people — especially people you don’t know. It can be all but impossible to work up the will to do anything.

I also find that there’s a surprising amount of anger. My temper is much closer to the surface. And any tiny thing can set you off. Absolutely everything gets on your nerves; eventually you get on your own nerves!

You feel like the world’s biggest fraud. A total faker, disingenuous about everything you say and do. It’s not like you can go out in public and not smile at people or not be friendly. And what about when you’re around the parents of kids your own children are friends with? Or their teachers? People from work? People from church? The person that rings up your stuff at the store? You can’t act all grumpy and mean when you’re around strangers — no matter how much you want to. And what about your kids, who don’t understand these things? They need love and encouragement; how can you give them that if you’re dreary all the time?

So you paint on a smile and you fake friendliness, compassion, love. While inside, you hate yourself for being a phony. Someone asks how you’re doing, and unless it’s someone you can confide in… You lie. Of course you lie.

Because Depression does not bring about socially acceptable behavior. It’s not okay to be around other people and be melancholy. So there’s a loneliness factor to it as well. Even if you have a confidant who understands, you still have to deal with these dark emotions on the inside, while using all your energy to try and hide it.

What does Depression feel like? It feels hopeless. It’s like your ability to hope has been taken from you. All your hope has been drained away and there’s nothing left.

Think about that. So many of our emotions and the things we do on a daily basis are built on a basic foundation of hope. You go to work in the hopes that you will get paid, that you will advance, that your finances will grow. You get up in the morning because you hope and believe that good things will happen to you today. You do everything you do because the future always holds potential.

Take hope out of that equation and what are you left with? Despair. Anger. Apathy. A desire to be alone. An overwhelming need for sleep. What’s the point of being awake if there’s nothing to hope for?

These feelings are horrible beyond words, and as I said in my book, if it doesn’t sound scary that these emotions can overtake you and you have no control over them… Then I’m not telling it right.

It’s terrifying.

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