For the longest time, I thought I had two options: fight my depression or let it consume me. I spent years forcing myself to just push through, pretending I was fine, and convincing myself that if I just tried harder, I could shake it off. That never worked.
What I’ve realised is that fighting my depression like an enemy only makes things worse. The only way forward—the only way to survive it—is to work with it, to stop resisting the reality of how I feel. And figure out how to exist alongside it. Some days, that means barely getting by. Other days, it means making room for things that help. It’s never easy, but here’s what has helped me:
Letting Myself Feel What I Need to Feel
For years, I was the master of pretending that I felt fine. I could plaster on a smile and fake my way through any situation. But every time I ignored my emotions, I was just setting myself up for the inevitable crash. Now, I let myself feel what I need to feel—without guilt, without shame. Some days, that means crying in the shower. Other days, it means taking the time to sit with those uncomfortable thoughts and feelings, instead of running from it. It’s messy, but it’s real.
Not Beating Myself Up for Struggling
I tend to be too hard on myself. I’ve spent so much time telling myself I should be doing better, that I shouldn’t feel this way, that I should just get over it. But none of that has ever helped. If anything, it’s made things worse. I’m learning—slowly—that I don’t have to be so hard on myself. I’m allowed to struggle. I don’t have to be perfect.
Stepping Back When It Gets Too Much
There are days when my thoughts spiral so fast I feel like I can’t breathe. The pressure, feeling overstimulated, and exhausted all pile up. Instead of forcing myself to push through, I step back. That might mean cancelling plans, turning my phone off, or spending the day in bed. And while my brain still tells me I’m being “lazy” or “weak,” I remind myself: I’m just trying to survive today.
Leaning on the People Who Actually Get It
I used to think asking for help made me a burden. That if I let people in on how bad things were, they’d run. Some did. But the right people—the ones who truly care—stayed. I’ve learned to lean on them, even when it’s uncomfortable. Even when it feels easier to isolate. Because no matter how much depression tries to convince me otherwise, I don’t have to do this alone.
Taking Breaks Without the Guilt
Depression drains the life out of me. Some days, the thought of doing anything feels unbearable. I used to force myself to push through, to keep going even when I was barely holding on. Now, I let myself take breaks. I rest when I need to. And I remind myself that doing nothing isn’t failing—it’s survival.
Doing the Absolute Bare Minimum—and That Being Enough
Some days, life feels impossible. Cooking is just not happening today. And the chances of me leaving the house? Forget it. I used to beat myself up over it, but now I work with my depression instead of against it. If all I can manage is microwaving food instead of cooking, that’s fine. If all I can do is crack a window instead of going outside, that’s still something. Survival mode means adjusting the bar—and that’s okay.
Finding Ways to Connect (That Actually Feel Doable)
Depression makes me want to disappear. And while sometimes I do need space, total isolation only makes it worse. I’ve realised that connection doesn’t have to mean seeing or checking in on people daily. Sometimes, it’s sending a short message. Sometimes, it’s just existing around people, like sitting in a coffee shop with my headphones on. Whatever feels manageable—that’s enough.
Accepting That Healing Will Happen in Waves
Some days, I feel like I’m making progress. Other days, I feel like I’m drowning again. I used to see this as failure, like I was back at square one. But I’ve come to understand that healing isn’t about constantly moving forward—it’s about learning to ride the waves. Some days will be better than others. That doesn’t mean I’m failing. It just means I’m human.
Asking for Help—Even When It Feels Impossible
I am still working on this one. Asking for help makes me feel uncomfortable, like I’m admitting I can’t handle life on my own. But the truth is, I can’t—and I don’t have to. Whether it’s therapy, medication, or just telling a friend, “Hey, I’m struggling,” letting people in has been one of the hardest but most necessary things I’ve done.
Working with my depression helped a lot—giving myself grace, letting myself feel, asking for help, and taking things one step at a time. Some days are better, some are worse. But no matter how hard it gets, I remind myself: I’ve made it through every single bad day before this one. I can make it through this one too.
Mental Matters is a resource and information platform. We do not provide medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. While the information on our website is for general awareness and support, it should not replace professional advice. For any mental health concerns, please consult a qualified healthcare or mental health professional.
