I spoke a couple of months ago about the misinterpreted face of depression. And the frustration I have with it. An extract from the post reads; “It’s easier to smile. It is easier at the time. We all know that. But everything will always catch up with us, it has too. Especially with the weight of a world that is desperate for us to be consistently happy, consistently instagrammable, and consistently consistent. It’s all too much.” And I want to write today about this a bit more. About how I cope or don’t cope or am struggling to cope, and how my coping mechanism can sometimes be… well, The Mask.

I wear a mask, one that (to most people) makes me appear to be strong and capable, cheerful, outgoing, warm. The “nothing bothers me” mask. It continues to smile no matter what is happening to the woman behind it. The mask is a way to hide my bruised self, a way to hide or disguise the feelings that are raw and vulnerable. It is safe. It allows me to attempt perfect control over what people get to see. We all wear it at times. And it’s vital some of the time. In professional settings it’s important to be able to keep some feelings controlled, that’s your job. In a supermarket, we smile and thank the person who serves us, no matter how we are feeling. When your friend needs you, you put everything aside, you put on The Mask for a little while, to help them out. Now, I need you to know that this post is not saying that we should never wear The Mask, sometimes, it’s needed, it’s appropriate. But what we must all be doing, is taking it off. And acknowledging it for what it is, The Mask.

My Mask used to fit me so well — seamlessly even — but in the past couple of years it has started to hurt a little. It feels heavy and no longer seems to fit and holding it up gets to be exhausting and occasionally it starts to slip. What once felt as though it was made from fine china, light and smooth, easy to keep in place, now feels to be roughly crafted from harsh sandpaper — it is heavy and rubs painfully.

I don’t want to wear it all the time anymore, and I am desperately trying to adjust to a life where I only wear it part time, but I am also fighting a feeling of not wanting to burden people with the real feelings I have. Truth is, I have been and am scared. I don’t like to leave the safety of my sanctuary, it frightens me. I am scared of falling apart, every single day, I am horrified at the thought that my mask might drop, without me being able to control when I take it off. I am terrified of being seen, judged or pitied. It strikes fear in my heart to think of falling apart and having people suggest it was a way to get attention, to be noticed.

I know avoidance is considered to be a poor and dangerous coping skill, but despite that, a lot of the time, I just want to be alone. I am lonely, sometimes. But not too often. I am aware of the negative presence I have at the moment. I don’t want to burden people with my presence unless I know that I am going to be able to keep the strong and cheerful me present. I do not want to be a disappointment. And right now, I’m desperately trying to work out… work out how to be me again, I’m putting on The Mask as often as I can. But I’m letting my real self, my depressed self, breathe a bit more. Sometimes I can’t face putting The Mask on just to sit for a meal at my family dinner table, I take it off in the evenings, I am aware of when I have been wearing it too long, and even more aware when it begins to slip.

Now trust me, I’m not about to even contemplate living a mask-free life. Although I suppose that’s what I’m doing with Ellen on the Edge, I don’t find it very difficult to sit behind a keyboard and share my thoughts, and for me, it’s quite therapeutic. But opening up in person, right now… let’s just say, The Mask is still in place.

Keep your mask on if that’s what you feel you need to do. I’m totally with you. But please know that you will need to take it off at some point, your real self needs to breathe. Do what you need to do, darling.

Hang in there.

Ellen on the Edge xx