I think your comment is right on the mark. The cycle you describe paints an unfortunately accurate picture of many of my high school and university years. I derived not just self esteem but much of my identity from having people perceive me as smart. I learned early on that people don't readily equate perky with intelligent so I dampened my enthusiasm for, well, effectively everything. Loneliness, too, played a role. Being "the smart one" shut me out of a lot of social situations which fed into my depression. But the exclusion also fueled my image of intelligence. I'm sure you can see how this situation has vicious cycle written all over it.
Thankfully I can write about this in the past tense. What changed? I moved to San Francisco for four months for an internship. I didn't know a single person in the city and used the opportunity to forge a new identity. Day after day, person after person, I would try a new Eric. I pretended, on various occasions, to be a cook, a banker, a mechanical engineer, a park ranger, any number of other professions. And, funny thing, I was happiest just being me. When I moved back to finish my degree I was happier than I had ever been. So it all came down to a change of scenery!
Wow, how coincidental. I have the same name and went through a similar deal. In my case, it was gaining responsibility for my life that has helped break me out of the cycle. The social culture of high school and college is just in no way good.
That's a good point, about responsibility. My glib comment on a change of scenery wasn't very insightful. For the first time in San Fransico I lived alone and knew nobody so it was me, and only me, that was responsible for doing everything. In retrospect, I think the situation forced me into being functional.
Yes, to be more specific, responsibility means that if I do not like my life, it is in my power to change it. Before, if I didn't like my life, there wasn't a lot I could do about it. So, since the social structure wasn't conducive to my personality, I would retreat from it all, leading to the depressive cycle.
Thanks for the discussion, you've helped me clarify my ideas on depression.
Thankfully I can write about this in the past tense. What changed? I moved to San Francisco for four months for an internship. I didn't know a single person in the city and used the opportunity to forge a new identity. Day after day, person after person, I would try a new Eric. I pretended, on various occasions, to be a cook, a banker, a mechanical engineer, a park ranger, any number of other professions. And, funny thing, I was happiest just being me. When I moved back to finish my degree I was happier than I had ever been. So it all came down to a change of scenery!