Mapping Depression and My Relationship With It

This topic was suggested by my therapist, and this blog is an attempt to write down my thoughts on it. I wondered what the best way would be to depict my depression over the years, and I decided to create a line plot to better capture the situation.

In the plot above, the x-axis runs from 2018 to 2025. I initially wanted to start from 2019, but including 2018 felt more significant. The y-axis is a happiness scale ranging from -1 to 1. Here, 1 is extreme happiness, 0.5 is overall positive, 0 is balanced/neutral, -0.5 is negative, and -1 is depression.

So let’s start from the beginning. In 2018, two things happened: I experienced conscious and spiritual awakening for the first time, and I also had Shikha in my life. By 2019, the graph peaks in happiness. But by mid-2019, I lost Shikha, and the line fell. 2020 brought Covid, of course. Still, overall, I was at zero, balanced, not bad considering.

From 2020 to 2021, with COVID slightly under control, I got admitted to my Master’s course, so the graph rose again, tilting positive. Between mid-2021 and 2022, two more big things happened: I had Teresa, and I was in Leeds. Then I lost both by mid-2022, followed by my return to India. The line dipped, but still stayed on the positive side. The real drop began after mid-2022, when I had to search for jobs. By early 2023, I landed one, which gave the graph a short-lived rise, but as months went on, I couldn’t sustain it. The line sank past -1, even touching -2, extreme depression, well beyond the original scale I had drawn. If you trace the trend, that’s about 4.5 years of depression. The result of chronic depression often leads to anhedonia, and that’s exactly what happened.

But this timeline is only one layer. The topic of this blog is my relationship to depression. To that, I’d say it has mostly been positive, though in a twisted way. At first, it was pure sadness. Over time, after rationalising everything, I became more comfortable in that depressive state. Strangely, it made me more human. My empathy and sympathy for people and for life in general grew to unmatched levels. I began noticing subtle emotions and struggles in others, which made me even more empathetic. It also stripped away a robotic version of myself, grounding me into something more natural.

But with that heightened perception came something else; I started recognising sadness everywhere. At the same time, I was contemplating death as a concept, deeply and often. This sensitivity to sadness, combined with thoughts on death, humbled me profoundly. My ego-self was broken down over these years of depression. And in that collapse, I found a stronger sense of appreciation for people, for life, and gratitude for small and big things alike. Yet, all of this came with an undertone of extreme sadness, depression, and eventually anhedonia.

Now, I mostly exist in a state of observation, seeing, not feeling. As I write this, I realise the last time I cried was May 12, 2022, my birthday. Since then, I haven’t cried. Sometimes I feel on the edge of tears, but the release never comes. Each failed attempt seems to strengthen the suppression of emotions.

What surprises me most is how I can still function at the highest level, whether in work or relationships, while carrying so much darkness inside. At first, it feels like a superpower, but deep down, I know in extreme situations it could turn into a curse. Believe it or not, I live with extreme empathy and extreme apathy at the same time.

In short, my journey with depression is not just about decline but also transformation. The timeline shows years of losses, struggles, and sinking into anhedonia, yet the relationship I’ve built with depression is oddly constructive. It stripped me of ego, sharpened my empathy, and grounded me in a raw awareness of life and death. What remains is a paradox, living with both deep compassion and cold detachment, a state that feels like both a hidden strength and a heavy burden.