‘check up on them’

As an in­tro­vert who’s been di­ag­nosed with de­pres­sion, anx­i­ety, ADD, etc. through­out her life, I of­ten spend a lot of time to my­self, lost in my own mind.

It’s al­ways been hard to try and or­ga­nize my thoughts, be­cause they lit­er­al­ly come to me as un­fin­ished pieces.

A sen­tence that breaks off into a dif­fer­ent ques­tion. An an­swer that’s in­ter­rupt­ed by the line in an in­cred­i­bly an­noy­ing song that re­peats it­self over and over.

Some­times I lit­er­al­ly strug­gle to main­tain a straight­for­ward sen­tence in my mind. I dare say that it’s men­tal­ly ex­haust­ing.

Any­way. I’ve been think­ing about how depressed/introverted peo­ple have a hard time reach­ing out to peo­ple.

Lord knows I have a ter­ri­ble prob­lem with it. And that’s when I start­ed won­der­ing …

Ba­si­cal­ly, some­times when one gets de­pressed and iso­lates them­selves from friends and fam­i­ly, those loved ones prob­a­bly as­sume that the per­son doesn’t want to be both­ered. Just wants to be alone.

Maybe they even think that the iso­lat­ed per­son just doesn’t like them any­more.
Maybe they stop talk­ing for a few days. A few weeks. Years …

Mean­while, that de­pressed per­son could pos­si­bly be des­per­ate for hu­man con­nec­tion, but they don’t know how to ask for it. So they ex­pect oth­ers to “check up on them.”

Then, when they don’t, the de­pressed per­son as­sumes that their friends and fam­i­ly don’t care about them any­more, or have just moved on from them. For­got­ten them.

And they nev­er end up reach­ing out to them be­cause they get this idea in their mind that they are un­want­ed.

And time goes on …

I guess, what I’m try­ing to say is that keep­ing those so­cial con­nec­tions re­al­ly mat­ters. A lot.

I mean, it’s AL­READY hard to keep in touch with peo­ple as it is!

So … if you ever feel like reach­ing out to some­one. Maybe a friend or fam­i­ly mem­ber you haven’t spo­ken to in a few years, then don’t be afraid to say “Hel­lo again, my good friend!”

Yeah.
Some­thing like that.

 

—kait­lyn­jane

Flom­mist KAiT­LYN­jane has been draw­ing and writ­ing sto­ries ever since she knew how to scrib­ble on a piece of pa­per, or her sister’s fore­head when she was just two weeks old. Copy­right © 2020 KAiT­LYN­jane.

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