If depression was an Airbnb

What you need to know about a long-term stay

Make yourself at home - depression definitely will.

Inside

Quiet, lonely, and better when it’s dark. Clocks don’t tell time. Windows distort light. Doom piles of clothes everywhere.

Outside

Yard needs some work. Car’s been sitting there awhile and probably needs some gas. Mailbox is full.

Important info

Kitchen is empty, and so is the fridge. You only need one set of pajamas to wear day and night. No need to make the bed, because you’ll be sleeping in it most of the time. No parties or gatherings. Quiet hours, always. There’s no point counting the hours anyways.

Visitors

There will be a lot of people looking inside, peering through the windows. They’ll motion for you to come out and roll their eyes when you don’t. They’ll frown with disappointment, watching you take your third nap of the day.

“Have you tried being more grateful?” Someone will ask.

They might call you on your cell, and say, “Look, everybody has to deal with stress. This is just life. How can we move past this?” Most won’t call at all.

I’m sure some emotionally-frozen-in-time immigrant parent would think, “Must be nice to have time to be depressed. I got through it. Why can’t you?”

You might get a text, “Have you tried exercising? That’s probably why you’re sad.”

Or someone will give you a thumbs-up and mouth, “You’re doing great. Just… try not to focus on the negative so much.”

Someone will impatiently check the time on their watch and think aloud, “You’re always feeling like this. It’s kind of exhausting for me.”

Or better yet, they’ll feign a frown, “You’re doing this” - and use their index fingers to turn the corners of it upside down on their face - “when you should be doing more of this.” When you stare back, they’ll whip out an exasperated sigh. “Just try it.”

Details about your stay

Depression is like a house, so it influences all of your days, how all of the rooms feel, and whether you get enough sunlight or not.

It’s uncontrollable. Like when you’re sitting on the shore, and the tide keeps rolling in, or when the sun starts to set. Or when it starts to rain unexpectedly, even though you made plans to go out. You can’t reach out and block it, and you can’t turn it off. It’s not a switch.

Doctors may tell you it’s caused by an imbalance of chemicals in your brain, low neurotransmitter levels (like serotonin - “feel good” chemicals), and/or a deficiency in cell growth and nerve connections.

The point is - it’s complex. It feels like you’re haunted by life. You’re a dramatic ghost of a person, not really sure if you want to be here or there at all.

It’s a physical illness, with emotional side effects. And emotions are always hard for people on the outside to touch and see. It’s not like there’s an auto-shop to see what’s going on under the hood with your feelings. And you don’t get a brace or neon bandage for emotional injury, so people can visualize what’s hurting, and maybe sign their name on it for fun.

Most people, I’d imagine, are frustrated (with good intentions) that they can’t fix whatever The Problem is. So, they keep offering ways to fix it, to bring in “happiness.” Open the curtains, eat up, put on some make-up, and go for a walk (please?).

The problem with happiness is that it’s a very personal thing, and it looks different for everyone. Your happiness certainly won’t be someone else’s. We all live in different houses.

A lot of people might also think happiness is like a mold you can bake cookies in. As long as you follow the recipe, the cookies will come out in the same shape. And you’ll definitely want to eat them, and you’ll definitely feel happier.

Our happiness cookies are, in fact, not the same shapes, and I’m not even sure I’d have happiness cookies in the first place. Mine would be a happiness steamed egg - but more on that another time.

It’s like that one Star Trek scene (I’m not a hardcore fan, but I just remember this line) when Kirk asks Spock, “How do you choose not to feel?” Depression is not something you choose. Ironically, though, empathy is a choice - one that a lot of friends and family choose not to make.

People don’t set out on being depressed - it just happens. It’s a rough season passing through. So, going for a jog, or eating a healthier snack, or just deciding to trick their thoughts into wearing different outfits isn’t always going to solve things.

It’s like asking someone to run a marathon with a broken ankle. Just get up and try. Sure, we can - but at what cost?

Recommendations

For people on the outside

I’d recommend depression for anyone who feels unheard or unseen. Depression is a way to sit with your feelings, because no one else will sit with them, or with you. Depression is a way to validate and protect yourself - it’s scientifically proven through a lot of people’s experiences, including my own (in case the science helps you believe it with more conviction). The irony of depression is that it feels good to linger in your worst feelings, because you just want someone to believe them.

Walking distance

Depression is minutes away from your bed, and sits right at the corner of stressful thoughts that you can only escape from with medicine, or when you’re asleep (which is why some people, young and old, tragically choose the permanent kind).

Where to eat

In the morning, you can have it with your non-existent breakfast. And at an afterthought-lunch, you can eat it with the only leftovers you can find in the fridge, or takeout you ordered but can’t even finish. At dinner, you can sleep through it instead, and wake up after everyone’s already eaten.

Things to do, things to see

Some things you can do include: leaving people in your text inbox on read and feeling horrible about it, not showing up to anything, sleeping, losing all interest in your historically favorite things, and feeling hopeless and silent during conversations at dinner that don’t involve you.

Some things you can see include: luxury-sized bags under your eyes, your hair falling out, four hours pass by when you check your phone after a nap, people continue to live their lives more fully online, the same walls of your bedroom in the morning/afternoon/night, and your parents struggling with what to say to you to make things right.

Tips for a perfect stay

For people on the inside, I’d say that you can stay as long as you need. It’s okay to be staying here in the first place. Know that it’s not forever, and don’t put pressure on yourself for staying longer than intended. Don’t condemn each additional day you wake up in the same Airbnb of depression where you don’t belong. You’ll find your way home. It’s your freedom, and responsibility, to create the home you need. Because you deserve it, and you’ll find it.

For people on the outside, I’d recommend to believe in depression first, in order to support the person living with it. Hold hands with it, hold hands with him/her, and listen to both of them. Learn how to understand, and why it’s chosen to make itself at home in a person you love. When you choose to hear its story, instead of dismissing it - it may question its purpose, and slowly see its way out. It may feel heard (finally), and sigh with relief.

When you stop blaming it, and start treating it like a deep-set wound that needs time to recover, it will appreciate you staying by its side while it heals.

And the person you love may start making their way back home.

Hope this helps.