Let's Get Naked. Let's Talk More About Depression.

Let's Get Naked. Let's Talk More About Depression.

I wish you could see what's going on in my brain. As I'm writing this right now, I have so many things I want to tell you that I don't know where to start. But I have to start. It doesn't matter how; what matters is when. And there is only NOW. I've procrastinated and fought so much resistance regarding this that I don't care about how it comes out. It will and have to come out, one way or another. But there is the perfectionist in me trying to stop it. Some fear as well.

"The more important a call or action is to our soul's evolution, the more Resistance we will feel toward pursuing it." - Steven Pressfield.

What am I talking about? My depression and the countless stories and things I want to share with you and myself. Last time (which was the first time), I opened up about my mental health struggles, specifically my suicidal depression; I unleashed and emptied myself. It felt good to talk about it finally. But it was also so much that I emptied that I didn't know where to go next? Because the intention was to start a blog and write more about it.


The doubts started coming, again. Can and should I share this? What will people think? Etc. As in most of my battles with depression, it has to do with the belief in myself. The self-esteem and self-confidence vanish and hits rock bottom. Conflicting thoughts in my head that penetrate that strong inner self-belief and messes everything up. I overthink to the extreme most of the time. It depletes my energy.

Then I get angry at myself, and the inner voice tells me that I fucking suck and can't do anything right. The inner voice is getting stronger and stronger. It keeps harassing me more and more. You come to a point where you feel there's no turning back, and you will always feel like this. And even if it goes back to normal, it will come back and haunt you. You think the best solution is to end your life, to end the suffering. Down the rabbit hole I go, profoundly deep... I've beaten myself up on more occasions than I can remember—zero self-compassion.

I have to be the biggest be(n)liever to move forward here in life. It doesn't matter how much I hear good things about myself from others and get compliments here and there. If I don't believe in myself, then I'm done, finito. But somehow, I always managed to find that tiny glimpse of light inside myself that said: Hey, I believe in you! Will I always find it? I don't know. I'm not guaranteed this life here on earth.


These posts about depression, or any other post that I will share, are not meant to be perfect. As I said initially, I have so many things in my head, in all my different notes apps, that I can write about. For years to come. But the fear, the procrastination, and the perfectionist in me are trying to stop me. I'm mentioning this because I want to tell you so I can hold myself accountable. I will rather be imperfect and post once a week than being "perfect" and post twice a year. Perfectly Imperfect is what I'm striving for. There, I said it.

Many of you that read my post about it last year reached out and said you couldn't believe a guy like me would suffer from depression. I have this urge in me, and I feel an even more need to talk about it. There's too much stigma around depression, and that's something I want to change.

Signs, I've gotten so many signs telling me to do this. That I need to do this, it's a lonely and very uncomfortable path to take, but I will do it. Because I believe it's the path for me to still exist in this world, along with the other methods of help, I rely on. It started with my last Ayahuasca journey, telling me that I needed to do this. I've also had conversations with two friends in the past two weeks. One had a partner, the other a mom, that both committed suicide due to depression. That's what I want to avoid at all costs, not only for myself but also for others. Life is too precious not to live it.

What if my depression is a gift?

I've recently started to see my depression as a gift here in life. Maybe I was supposed to have this? To go through all this pain and battles so I can help other people that suffer from it? People that necessarily don't have the strength or support system for it.

Amor Fati. One of the Stoic concepts that translate to "love of fate" or "love of one's fate." To not only accept everything that life brings you, good or bad, but to love it. To embrace it. To revel in it. Every single bit of your life. Yes, even the truly horrible, awful, regrettable, don't-ever-want-to-think-about-it-again moments. And that includes: Depression.

I'm here to share. To share, like an open book: my struggles, battles, and my wins. There's no shame in me doing this. Instead, I see it like this: What we hide, we can't heal. If we hide, we can't share. And if we can't share, we can't help other people. And that's what I ultimately want to do.

Expose the Depression. Undress it.

I see it as the white elephant in the room. The more you expose it by talking about it, the weaker it gets. The last thing depression wants is for you to talk about it and expose it. It loves the loneliness and the darkness; that's what feeds it. That's what makes it thrive. I want to put it in the spotlight. I want to normalize it. I want to destigmatize it. I want to accept it for what it is. I want to become its best friend. Because one thing is for sure: I will never beat depression, and I have such massive respect for it. I will never win over it. The moment I get cocky and overconfident, the moment I will go to a full-blown war with it and think that I've defeated it—that's the moment it will defeat me, permanently.

Memento Mori, remember that I will die, is my biggest motivation in life.

"Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything — all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure — these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart." - Steve Jobs

And as the author Neil Gaiman so perfectly describes it:

"The moment that you feel, just possibly, you're walking down the street naked… Exposing too much of your heart and your mind and what exists on the inside. Showing too much of yourself — that's the moment you may be starting to get it right."

That's how I feel about this. I'm naked, and I'm exposing too much of myself and what's on the inside. But despite all the doubts and the strong resistance trying to hold me back, I feel I am doing the right thing and that I'm on the right path. I want to help people in my situation, end the suffering, save lives, and prevent suicides. I want people to live a happy and healthy life, and I want to make a change in the world. That's what gets me thinking and out of bed nowadays.

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