The depressed hero

What is your concept of hero? Gal Gadot with her sword? Arnie fighting the Predator? Dan Aykroyd and John Belushi saving the orphanage?

Let us see what a typical hero must have…

1. A sword or a weapon of some kind
2. A shield? Nah, that makes him/her a wimp, true hero is too strong for a shield
3. An enemy, the antagonist, the evil in any human or non-human form
4. Some helpless, innocent people to be saved from harm
5. A sidekick, that saves him once in a while
6. A universe in which she/he operates
7. A good heart
8. An inexhaustible dosage of hope
9. A sweetheart

But, do such heroes really exist? Is it just Holywood? The hero industry. Let’s get real instead. For life is so much juicier and hurting than fairytales. So more present than imagination. Life is life-threatening. Suffering, loving, dying. All for real. Heroes are dead. Never existed. Just ordinary people in extraordinary situations.

Let us see what a typical depression sufferer has in order to battle her/his illness, the uncommon hero with depression.

1. Not any weapon whatsoever, just bare hands and some sticks and stones called antidepressants.
2. A shield, ha ha, I make you laugh, don’t I? The true depression sufferer is always fully exposed.
3. An enemy, many of them in many forms, but each one wearing your face and when you kill them, you die too.
4. No one to be saved. Just you. And the game rules? There aren’t any. Just to survive one more day. One more hour.
5. A sidekick? No. When you walk depressed, you walk alone.
6. The Universe of your mind and bad things that haunt you all day. No colors. Bad odors. And demons. The worst kind.
7. A good heart. Yes we have a good heart. That’s one of the reasons we are depressed.
8. No hope.
9. A sweetheart. Maybe, but you treat her/him like shit. Sometimes.

And you actually win, against all odds. Every day. Every hour. In a pitiful universe. Without a cause. Not a rebel, but a true silent hero.

You see, when true heroes come home they deserve a hero’s welcome. For they killed our enemies and saved the day. But you didn’t kill any enemies. You almost killed yourself. How inappropriate. You don’t get a medal for that. It is publicly unacceptable. Shame just lingers.

But you didn’t die. You survived. At home. In a hospital. At work. You are a secret, silent hero. Hush. Hush. I hear you. I have always known you. We stay alive. Every day. Every hour.

I give you the hero’s welcome you deserve. I applaud you. Silently through the lines of this post. Because on the streets we are invisible to each other hiding behind a smiling facade. Because we are the inappropriate ones. Inconvenient.

Silent heroes nevertheless.

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