Depression, in Color.

I used to be a very sad girl. Most days, I still am but I stopped being gray. I struggled a lot with self love, with the feelings of self worthiness, I struggled with starting. I always said well I’ll do this or that when i’m not sad anymore. I believed in my heart that one day my depression would just go away and that I would finally see in color again. I would love sunshine and sprinkles, I would wear colors other than just black and I wouldn’t be sad ever again. I convinced myself that the delusion of curing depression would come true if I just believed it long enough. SIKE. I had to put in the work, I had to add the color.

When I moved to Charlotte, I was still very much sad. All my problems didn’t go away by moving, but the clarity was there. Kind of. Like, I knew what I had to do, it just took me forever to do it because I figured that eventually, maybe, someday, soon I would just… wake up not sad. You know in the movies where it’s in black and white and then all of a sudden we get color on the screen and the main character is okay again. That’s what I expected. I put it off for so long. I’ve been here almost two years and I think I finally found the colors in my depression. I stopped waiting for it to happen, got a pack of metaphoric crayons and colored that bitch in.

I had a job that kind of started putting the color back in my life. I had a routine I could stick to, I got to wear cute outfits, I had a reason to get dolled up, but that quickly took a turn. I had a boss who made me feel that I wasn’t young enough, or pretty, or skinny enough. All that I had worked towards was shattered by me just not looking the part. That kinda thing sets you right back to black and white. It reminds you that color is hard to maintain, you know? I quit because my husband told me he saw my color fading. He saw me going back to the girl who lived in her grey cloud and never wanted to leave. A month later, I got another job. Same position, better people. I realized that I wasn’t the problem and that I shouldn’t have given up on coloring.

I worked hard. I got a promotion within a month, got another one in three months. I got to wear cute outfits. I had a routine. I realized that I had gotten another chance at being able to live a beautiful life within my illness. I stopped waiting for the depression to pass to love myself. I started wearing color again, literally. I started seeing life in a way that depression never let me see it. I put her in the passenger seat and allowed myself to take the wheel. Am I the happiest I ever been? Yes. Am I depressed? Also yes. I think that’s okay though. We have this weird stigma of not being able to feel both or like we’re not depressed enough if we feel joy or were not happy enough if we’re depressed. Everyday I wake up and I am grateful. I am grateful that I am able to live a life where depression doesn’t dominate and is just simply a part of it.

I wake up and I avoid wearing black. I started wearing green and pink again. If you didn’t read my book, ( why haven’t you read my book? it’s on Amazon, go buy it, don’t piss me off right now ) I tell the story of that time in Junior High School where 3 girls made fun of my outfit so bad that my big sister had to pick me up from school. I had on a baby pink shirt and green cargos. It was a brand new outfit that my mom had just bought from me and I was so excited to wear it to school. They did not stop. They followed me around the halls telling me I didn’t match and that my outfit was ugly. I vowed to never wear those two colors again. And I didn’t for years. Anytime I would try to put it on, I would get triggered and have to change. Even as an adult who had been out of JHS for years, I still couldn’t do it. But one day I just, wore it. I got dressed and left the house so I wouldn’t have any choice but to keep the outfit on. I got compliments at work. Nobody bullied me. That restored something in me I thought would never come back and it did. Changing something as simple as the way that I dressed, helps ease my depression. I wear color everyday. If I wear black, I try to wear something bright. I wear prints, I wear neon, I wear whatever I like. I am blessed to have found a job that allows me to wear these outfits and these colors. Hosting, I had to wear all black and it just, I don’t know, kept me sad. When I wear color, I feel happier. In a weird way, it calms my depression. She’s not so strong when I allow her to see in color too. It’s not just wearing color, it’s doing those extra steps to allow myself to feel good. Doing my skincare, doing my hair, wearing a little makeup for the day. It keeps her happy. She doesn’t want to grab the wheel when she sees I am doing all the right things.

I write this to tell you that it’s okay to not wait for the depression to “heal” to start feeling good about yourself. Two things can be true, you can be happy with who you are while working towards who you want to be. Am I there yet? No. I still struggle with my weight loss, with adult acne, with the changes my body made after having a baby, with feeling unworthy sometimes. I struggle with impostor syndrome a lot and feeling I do not deserve the things I am receiving. That’s fine. You can love yourself on your way there, you don’t have to wait to get there to give yourself love, it’s okay to give yourself grace. Don’t let social media make you feel less than because you don’t do Pilates or soul cycle. Don’t let it make you feel like you’re not allowed to feel love for yourself because you aren’t 110 lbs. Love yourself overweight because who you are inside matters more. Well obviously like, take care of yourself, drink water, blah blah blah. What I’m saying is allow yourself to see your depression in color. Allow yourself to see that there is beauty and flowers and sprinkles even when you’re unhappy. Your outfit doesn’t have to match your mood. Now, I’m not saying never wear black, what I’m saying is stop wearing it because you think your depression needs it. I mean hey she probably does but if she’s going to control your thoughts and your emotions, don’t let her control your outfits too.