{"id":97927,"date":"2025-10-10T14:57:22","date_gmt":"2025-10-10T14:57:22","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/sotnews.agency\/?p=97927"},"modified":"2025-10-10T14:57:22","modified_gmt":"2025-10-10T14:57:22","slug":"what-it-feels-like-to-live-with-chronic-depression","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/sotnews.agency\/?p=97927","title":{"rendered":"What it feels like to live with chronic depression"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n
\n \t<\/i> Read Time:<\/span>6 Minute, 38 Second <\/div>\n\n <\/div>
\n

October is recognised as National Depression Awareness Month in the United States, while October 10 marks World Mental Health Day.<\/p>\n

Although I don\u2019t live in the US, I\u2019ve chosen to use this month as a reminder to talk about what it\u2019s like living with chronic depression, specifically Persistent Depressive Disorder (PDD)\u2014also known as dysthymia.<\/p>\n

Let\u2019s get the technical part out of the way. PDD is a continuous, long-term form of depression. You may feel sad and empty, lose interest in daily activities, and struggle to get things done. You may also have low self-esteem, feel like a failure, and carry a sense of hopelessness. These feelings can last for years\u2014sometimes, for life.<\/p>\n

I want to share what it\u2019s like living with this condition\u2014to take you through a typical day in my life, how it feels in my head and in my skin. You still may not fully understand, but perhaps this glimpse might help someone out there.<\/p>\n

I wake up at 4:30 a.m. because I live on the outskirts of Accra. I used to jump out of bed the moment the alarm rang, but now it takes me a while. I sit at the edge of the bed, breathing deeply, staring out the window, trying to steady myself as anxiety crawls over my skin and the heaviness in my chest grows.<\/p>\n

Eventually, I move\u2014unlocking the main door so the housekeeper can get in\u2014and pack my gym bag, handbag, and computer bag. Then, at 5 a.m., I wake my son.<\/p>\n

I have three methods: I either tickle him, sing loudly, or say, \u201cYo, it\u2019s time to wake up; we\u2019re running late!\u201d It depends on my mood. He\u2019s an instant waker\u2014energy floods his body as soon as his eyes open.<\/p>\n

I leave him to his rituals and head back to my room to change from my pajamas into gym clothes. This is when I really drag my feet. I sit on my bed for long minutes, drowning in heaviness and thoughts. Sometimes I lie back down.<\/p>\n

When my son comes in to borrow tissue or something from my bathroom, he chastises me for still being in bed. I grumble something inaudible. Eventually, I turn on YouTube for \u201cDaily Effective Prayer.\u201d If he\u2019s ready, he joins me to pray. I try not to skip it\u2014but some mornings, the weight is too much, and I stay under the covers, unable to step into the world.<\/p>\n

We get into the car between 5:30 and 5:45 a.m. Thankfully, I have a driver. If my son\u2019s chatter quiets, I sleep\u2014or at least pretend to. It\u2019s not real rest; it\u2019s grief and fear forcing me to retreat.<\/p>\n

I think about all I\u2019ll face that day\u2014and that I\u2019ll face it alone, as always.<\/p>\n

We drop my son off at school between 6:00 and 6:15 a.m. It sounds early, but there are other kids there. We\u2019re in silent competition with a man I call \u201cDaddy Warbucks\u201d\u2014he drives a fancy Lexus and drops his kids off even earlier.<\/p>\n

I give my son his medicine at school, since it\u2019s after meals, and he eats breakfast in the car. We used to hug, but now he\u2019s outgrown that\u2014though sometimes, I still get one.<\/p>\n

Afterwards, I nap again on the way to pick up my mom for the gym and again until we arrive.<\/p>\n

At the gym, I\u2019m all smiles\u2014dapping with the bros, teasing, laughing. I doubt anyone there could imagine I have depression. But I hate the mirrors. There are none at home, so the gym is my first daily encounter with them. They reflect every ounce of self-loathing I try to hide.<\/p>\n

And that\u2019s why I push harder. Would I rather lift lighter weights? Of course. But I can\u2019t be fat and weak at the same time. So even if the mirror shows a fat person, it at least shows one lifting heavy.<\/p>\n

Then I swim\u2014the one time I feel free. There are no mirrors at the pool. I swim in peace. I\u2019m a good swimmer\u2014and maybe that\u2019s the one place I truly feel calm.<\/p>\n

After the gym, I shower and change at my mom\u2019s house. The mask comes on. I have to be chatty and engaging; otherwise, there\u2019ll be too many questions.<\/p>\n

But in my old room, as I change, I sit on the bed for ages\u2014frozen, grieving, exhausted. I don\u2019t want to talk. I don\u2019t want to smile. I\u2019m surrounded by people, yet I feel completely alone.<\/p>\n

At work, everyone knows I\u2019m an introvert. I don\u2019t hop from office to office socialising. I greet, smile, and stay polite\u2014then get to work.<\/p>\n

When I facilitate training, I dig deep, like I\u2019m digging for water in the Sahara, cracking jokes, and being amiable. My performing mask is strong\u2014impeccable. No one sees the storm underneath<\/p>\n

After work, I pick up my son, and the chatter begins again. At home, we do homework, then head to our small gym. I walk or cycle; he trains with the security guard.<\/p>\n

Training time is our bonding time. I tell him I\u2019m his assistant coach. He rolls his eyes, and I tell him, \u201cAll great athletes had their mothers in the picture somewhere!\u201d<\/p>\n

Then we eat dinner, he showers, and after prayers, he goes to bed.<\/p>\n

And then, oh baby\u2014it all comes crashing down. The day wraps itself around my throat like a vise. I sit on the floor, rocking myself back and forth like a child.<\/p>\n

The self-hate, the grief, the sadness, the abandonment, the feeling of failure\u2014they all pile on. I replay everything: the things I said wrong, what others said that hurt, and every moment I could have done better.<\/p>\n

I ask myself, \u201cWhy can\u2019t I just be okay? Why can\u2019t I just snap out of it? Why can\u2019t I just choose happiness?\u201d<\/p>\n

Then it\u2019s medication time. Topiramate for seizure disorder\u2014a recent diagnosis I\u2019m still grappling with. Rivotril and Renerve Plus for the same. Citalopram for depression. Propranolol for anxiety and panic attacks. Melatonin to help me sleep.<\/p>\n

What a cocktail.<\/p>\n

But it\u2019s not just seizure disorder, chronic depression, and anxiety. I also live with complex trauma and borderline personality disorder (quiet type). That\u2019s a whole other story for another time.<\/p>\n

And as I take the pills, the cruel thoughts come: \u201cSee, this is why he left you. You\u2019re too much. Your body is broken. Your mind is broken. You are broken. Who can deal with this?\u201d<\/p>\n

Before bed, I record my BG365 post for social media. Every time I do, I feel like a hypocrite. Deep down, I want to say, \u201cGuys, I\u2019m deeply and profoundly sad. I don\u2019t think I\u2019ll ever recover.\u201d<\/p>\n

But I don\u2019t. I chose something more neutral because I don\u2019t want to worry anyone. People think I share a lot\u2014gosh, I barely share. What they see is just the tip of the iceberg.<\/p>\n

Sometimes I use filtered photos because I hate how I look. My depression is tangled with body image issues, past trauma, heartbreak, and the feeling that I\u2019m not where I should be in life.<\/p>\n

Eventually, I post\u2014authentic, but not the full truth. Then I shower and lie in bed, exhausted, crying, unseen, abandoned.<\/p>\n

As I drift, I imagine my ex cuddled up with someone else, while I\u2019m here\u2014broken, damaged, and never enough.<\/p>\n

Then I pray. I surrender to God. But I know I\u2019ll wake up again at 4:30 a.m., and the cycle will begin all over\u2014despite therapy, medication, and prayer.<\/p>\n

YouTube, Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn: @boakyewaaglover
TikTok:<\/strong> @boakyewaa.glover<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n
\n \n
\n \n \"Happy\"\n <\/a>\n
\n Happy <\/div>\n
\n 0<\/span>\n \n 0<\/span> %<\/span>\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n\n
\n \n \"Sad\"\n <\/a>\n
\n Sad <\/div>\n
\n 0<\/span>\n 0<\/span> %<\/span>\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n\n
\n \n \"Excited\"\n <\/a>\n
\n Excited <\/div>\n
\n 0<\/span>\n 0<\/span> %<\/span>\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n\n
\n \n \"Sleepy\"\n <\/a>\n
\n Sleepy <\/div>\n
\n 0<\/span>\n \n 0<\/span> %<\/span>\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n\n
\n \n \"Angry\"\n <\/a>\n
Angry<\/div>\n
\n 0<\/span>\n 0<\/span> %<\/span>\n \n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n\n
\n \n \"Surprise\"\n <\/a>\n
Surprise<\/div>\n
\n 0<\/span>\n 0<\/span> %<\/span>\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n\n ","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
\"WhatOctober is recognised as National Depression Awareness Month in the United States, while October 10 marks World Mental Health Day.<\/div>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"rop_custom_images_group":[],"rop_custom_messages_group":[],"rop_publish_now":"initial","rop_publish_now_accounts":{"facebook_2277560469115098_106292521332774":"","twitter_aToxNzczMzI3Njk4OTg4ODUxMjAxOw==_1773327698988851200":""},"rop_publish_now_history":[],"rop_publish_now_status":"pending","_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[10239,7,2128,1883,10,9],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-97927","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-chronic-depression","category-health","category-hp-opinion-1","category-national","category-politics","category-popular"],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/sotnews.agency\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/97927","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/sotnews.agency\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/sotnews.agency\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sotnews.agency\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sotnews.agency\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=97927"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/sotnews.agency\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/97927\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/sotnews.agency\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=97927"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sotnews.agency\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=97927"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sotnews.agency\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=97927"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}