Sarah Smith’s Path to Healing

Hello,

Today I rewrite my past.
Today I become the hero of my story.
Today I am the main character.
Today I become me.

Depression has been my companion for probably 27 years of my life. I didn’t know there was a life without depression until two years ago, when I talked to a friend about the symptoms, and I realised, “Hang on a sec. That’s not me anymore.”

I didn’t even notice I had come out of my depression because it felt so natural. It felt natural to be me.

Even now, when I try to look back at who I was with depression, it’s hard to feel into it again, because for me, depression wasn’t something I carried. It was something I lacked.
And how are you supposed to feel lack?

But I’ll try because it is part of my story.

For me, depression felt like hopelessness. It felt like I was absent.
I didn’t know what made me happy, and I didn’t know (still don’t) what my hobbies were.

I didn’t know what made me feel whole, or what brought the light into my eyes because I didn’t even know if I was capable of it.

The worst times were when I felt helpless.
I remember being with my ex-husband, who tried to help me in every way possible, and just made it worse without realising.

He would do the household chores, take care of the dog, work full-time. He took all of the responsibility from me so I could heal and gather strength.
And honestly, it did the complete opposite.

The more he did, the more useless and worthless I felt.
I felt like I was the biggest burden. Like he could never really love me because look at me.
I couldn’t even get up to brush my teeth.
He would do everything, and I couldn’t even take care of myself.

My world felt grey and joyless.
I had to eat sugar just to feel something.
I only felt anything when my stomach was so full, I couldn’t fit anything else in.
My stomach had to feel heavy for me to feel full.

Laughing was a mask I used to hide my emptiness.
Sarcasm was my humour to cover up the seriousness.

The depression made it easy to hide because when you feel empty, you blend in.
You don’t have the energy to make people notice you.
You’re just the person in the corner of a party, waiting for it to be over, while everyone ignores you or doesn’t even see you.
You become one with the shadows.

I realise now that my depression, my unwillingness to feel, was my way of protecting me from me.
If I didn’t have to feel who I am, then I couldn’t hurt myself.

I didn’t love myself, so I had to hide from myself.
And with that, I hid from everyone else too.

And that’s how I lived: in the shadows.
I made sure no one could see me.
I made sure I was always a perfect picture of fitting in.
And if I wasn’t sure how to fit in, I’d just be quiet and smile.

Even my clothes were bland, muted colours and basic.
Always a shirt and trousers.
On special occasions, or for worship, I would wear a skirt.

Compliments were the worst.
There were only rare moments when I could receive one.
I believed I was only allowed to be accepted or loved when I was doing something to earn it.

So I avoided situations where I could be trapped like owing people money, getting too emotionally intimate or anything that made me feel like I didn’t have an exit.

I made sure there was always a way out.
Because I didn’t know if I could find my way back without someone there to show me how.

So how did I go from having no hobbies, feeling like I’d never change my life, and wanting to hide in the shadows…
to being the person who writes this blog?
To being someone who wants to live?

Honestly?
I realised my depression came from abandoning myself.
And that healing meant reclaiming who I am.
It meant learning how to love me.

Loving someone, to me, means choosing them.
It means consciously choosing to make that person’s needs and wishes a priority.

So how could I love myself, if I never chose myself?

My first step was actually to start dating me.
My first date with myself was at a lake, watching the sunset and going for a walk.
I had an open conversation with myself, as if I didn’t know me yet.
And honestly, I learned some new things that day.

And then I kept going.
Every time I didn’t know what I wanted, I asked myself, What would I do for someone I was dating?
And I did that for me.

It helped me find me.
It helped me become the person I am today.
And I would do it all over again.

Sometimes I forget that this is how I got here.
And those are usually the times I feel the most lost.

So what do I think depression is?

I think it is the fundamental abandonment of the self.
It’s losing yourself so completely that there’s nothing left to hold on to.
Like bleaching your hair so much, it can’t hold colour anymore — and you have to give it something else first, before it can become what you truly want.

That’s how I see depression.
You lose so much of yourself that you need something in your life to anchor you.
Something to keep you functioning until you’re ready to find your way back.

And if that’s true, then leading yourself back to you, helping you claim your core…
That might be the real “cure” to depression.

If I could go back, I wouldn’t change a single step of my journey.
But I will tell you this: it is a lot easier when you have a therapist by your side.

So I’ll leave you with this:
Depression isn’t the end, and it isn’t the beginning. It’s a cry for help.
A quiet, desperate signal from your core trying to protect itself from you.
Not because it hates you, but because it loves you so fiercely, it’s willing to go quiet just to keep something of you safe.
So that one day, when you’re ready, there’s still something whole for you to come home to.