Dating depressed person
Yeah, it might mean missing out on something wonderful, but wonderful tends to wait when it’s real.
I’ve broken things off in the past that seemed promising in order to work on myself, and I regret nothing.
A challenging part of dating while depressed is a challenging part of dating in general: Putting yourself out there in ways that won’t make you want to self-immolate.
For a long time, I joined Tinder and Bumble and all the sites you’re supposed to join as a hip young person, only to find that I could never bring myself to deliver on a date because I could never bring myself to actually leave my house.
This has happened innumerable times, especially when it comes to any commitment involving the evening, the weekend, whenever the sun is up, whenever the sun is down, bars, movies, restaurants, and the planet Earth.
I became particularly good at creating excuses (heads up for family and friends: there is a gas leak) which once left me with the nickname “Squirmy Shermie,” which I assume was supposed to be an endearing term about being a damn flake.
What I thought was kindness was misinterpreted—a miscommunication that occurs when you don’t really know someone.
It’s not a perfect system, but it’s certainly worked for me: gigs have led to nachos have led to beers have led to real romance.
But maybe the best piece of advice I have when it comes to dating with depression—and something I wish I realized much sooner—is that it’s OK to listen to your brain, even if it makes you miserable.
If you don’t think you’re in the position to date seriously, give yourself space to manage your own mental difference.
I am a depressed person who also happens to be in love, and it’s been an arduous journey to get here.
But if you’ve got a good partner, they’ll want to be there for you, and that can be fucking scary.