It is from my doctor.

While I don't know it’s SPECIFIC contents, I know what it contains.

But I am afraid to open it.

Not because it contains test results (it doesn’t). Not because it contains any sort of diagnosis (it doesn’t). Not because it contains anything scary at all.

In fact, it contains a list of possible therapists to talk to about my depression. And it terrifies me.

It terrifies me because of what it means if I do open it. It means I need help. Which, obviously, I do, but at each step of this process, I have balked like a horse being led into a blazing barn. It took me four visits with my doctor before I got the courage up to even ask for a recommendation despite him asking me point blank ‘Have you been experiencing depression?’ as part of the routine questionnaire, and me saying ‘Yes’ in reply.

It terrifies me because I feel like once I open the envelope, there’s no going back. I have set myself on a path, and that path leads to dark places that involve dark things being exposed to the harsh light of day.

It terrifies me because it means that I am no longer capable of maintaining my thin grasp on whatever it is that I have a thin grasp on, but… I've known that for quite some time now.

And I still can't bring myself to open it.

Because opening the envelope makes it all real.

Opening the envelope means that it’s no longer something that I can sweep under the carpet when I’m having a good day. Even though the good days are fewer and farther between than I ever thought possible.

Opening the envelope FEELS like surrender.

But sometimes you have to surrender. Sometimes you have to ask for help. Sometimes you just can’t do it alone. And once I convince myself that opening the envelope makes me a stronger person than NOT opening it… well, then I guess the envelope will get opened.

(Photo of AFP, by me.)

In some way, shape or form, we can't do everything on our own.

Sometimes it’s physical assistance, sometimes it’s for a project, sometimes it’s just pure and simple emotional support.

But we all need help.

Sometimes it’s easy to see that someone needs it. Sometimes it’s more difficult. But either way, people are generally GOOD people, and they try to reach out to lend a hand.

The stumbling block comes in how we offer that assistance. If you don’t offer in the right way, you can inadvertently make it more difficult to assist.

How can I help you?

This is the question I get asked most often. Whether it’s because I am working on a project, or just sad, this is how most people phrase their offers of assistance.

The problem with that question, however, is that the questioner is making an assumption that the person in need of help KNOWS what type of assistance they need. For me, at least, this is generally not the case. Take, for instance, the recent light plot I did at the theater I work at. The last thing we do once the set is built is hang and focus the lights. One by one, everyone who was there at the end of the day came to me and asked how they could help with the light hang. I didn't have an explicit answer for them outlining a job, so one by one, they just left. I kinda sorta know what needs to be done, but the process of me explaining the next step would take longer than me just doing it myself, so my general answer is “I'm not sure there’s anything specific I can give you to do. I’ve got it, don't worry.”

The last person there that night, however, asked that question, and when I didn't have a detailed answer for them rephrased it to “Then just let me help.” And that’s what they did. They were there, and as I needed a wrench, or a bulb, or someone to stand in a specific spot while I focused, they did it. And it was AWESOME. I couldn't tell them what I needed, because I didn't have the minutiae detailed out in my head, but in the end, just being there TO HELP was really all that was required.

The same thing goes for emotional issues. I’m sad as hell right now. I have been for quite some time. And people who see me regularly KNOW this. But everyone just asks me “How can I help?” And I don't have an answer for them, because I don't know what’s wrong other than “me sad.” And I feel them all leaving, one at a time — because really, who wants to be around guy who is always sad and can't tell anyone what’s wrong? And then that just feeds the sadness. It’s a pretty shitty cycle, and I'm not sure how to break it, because “Just be here for me” is generally interpreted as “I'll call you when I need you” not “Come here and hold me while I cry for a little bit.”

Depression sucks. Chances are you know someone who’s sad. When you reach out to them, try not to expect an answer that will give you an explicit set of instructions for making them feel better. Go to them. Hold their hand. Let them cry. But most importantly, just go to them, and be there for them as their friend. Sometimes that’s all it takes.