What depression actually IS (first of many posts on the same topic)

I went to a party with a friend this afternoon...a nice Saturday BBQ with a bunch of really chill people. The person who invited me is a friend of my roommate's, so I've gotten to know her pretty well. The sun was shining, people were laughing and having a good time, there was good food on the table and there were great smells emanating from the grill. Sounds like the set up for a great afternoon, yeah?

Wrong. (Apparently.)

Here's what really happened:
I was introduced to a bunch of people whose names I instantly forgot (not that big of an issue...that always happens to me...and is a topic for another post), I went through the food table and grabbed a hot dog, some out-of-this-world potato salad, and a beer. Sat down with my friend to eat. Watched people talking and laughing. Chatted a bit, but mostly listened to my friend chatting with people while I simply answered questions if someone talked to me. I felt a bit tired, but nothing that some good food wouldn't solve (I thought). Went for seconds. Couldn't eat any of it.

And this is where I started noticing something wasn't right here. All the sudden, everything on my plate looked hideous and I couldn't eat it. I couldn't finish my beer...it tasted awful. I couldn't pay attention to what anyone was saying. The world suddenly got significantly smaller.

And then it hit me: social anxiety strikes again. Terrific, I thought. Fan-friggin-tastic.

Let me tell you a little about myself on a normal, any day sort of day. I love to be the center of attention. I love sitting down and talking to random people. I enjoy meeting new people, and I'm known for finding new friends in grocery stores or on the T or walking down a sidewalk. I love being around people. I'm a very social person. I love having huge parties at my apartment with so many people that I realize that there are many people there who neither my roommate nor I actually invited directly.

And so, social anxiety is a crazy thing for me. So counter-intuitive, I have no idea what to do with it. How to process it, how to fight it, how to "control" it. It hits me like a ton of bricks and pretty much makes me seem like a useless space filler at a party/gathering.

But I suddenly couldn't talk to people at this party. I wanted everyone to leave me alone--or better yet, just simply leave for good. I stuck close to my friend to make it seem as though I was a part of a conversation, lest someone suspect something was really wrong with me--or worse: think I was just really lame. But again, let me remind you, I only spoke when spoken to. I didn't really laugh when something was funny. I forced a smirk, since that was usually all I could muster. I made the excuse of being tired today or feeling a little out of it all day.

But really, all I wanted to do was run into a corner and hide. How ridiculous is that???

----------------------------
Why did this happen today? What caused it to flare up as soon as I hit this party with all these people? And why is it sooo embarrassing that it happened? Why does it always still surprise me?

I know I'm prone to social anxiety. I don't get really serious anxiety attacks (of the general, not-focused-on-one-distinct-thing-necessarily, sort). But I know that these episodes can happen. So, the surprise seems a little out of place, yeah?

I also know that there is no real answer to any of the 4 questions. It is, of course, up to interpretation and speculation. But truthfully, no answer will really satisfy me completely. Because, ultimately, it comes back to that little chemical imbalance in my brain telling me that I have depression. And that, somehow, is both a soothing thought and a completely unsatisfactory explanation for any given behavior I'm struggling to understand.

It's all so frustrating! As I watched people interacting with one another, I got this overwhelming desire to be normal "like them." Because those people have a home, most married and starting their lives together. Those people can manage their budgets/money. They can do laundry on time, they pay their bills on time, they know how to manage their time. They are relaxed and enjoying themselves.

And I suddenly hated them all for it! They're all happy. They're all laughing. They're all chilling out. And I can't even manage a conversation of small talk.

This episode sounds so familiar, yeah? Trapped inside my own brain, blocked by my lack of the proper amount of seratonin. This is what depression IS. Medical journals, textbooks, people, teachers, books, TV programs: they all tell us the "definition" of depression. But this experience today is what depression means in my life, in my world. This is what depression IS for me.